Keepin' it Together!

A long day still only has 

twenty four hours. 

It should really be called 

a crammed day. 

crammed with errands, 

(one involved chocolate)

taking more than 10000 steps, 

levering time for lunch, 

travel time from here to there 

and back again

sliding into home to

Breathe!

Did I forget?

Tidying the morning’s clutter……..

“The hurrier I go, the behind I get.”

~ Lewis Carroll

Chocolate Dreams

The oldest recipe I have: Brownie Pudding Yum!!!!

I’ve had many dreams, most of them too bizarre for words. Occasionally some of them humorous, some frightening. But never one about chocolate cake. However, my dream was creative and compelling, I measured, mixed and tried desperately to remember the recipe for chocolate cake. Keeping on, one measurement at a time, I was coming close but never got it into an oven. I woke up and smiled. 

Always trying to divine my dreams, I thought my recent struggles with my writing project had been translated into a dream. Did I want to write something sweet, something well put together but didn’t know how? Or did I just want the chocolate cake I’d been craving for the last week? Trying to decide was taking far too much time.

The solution: make a Brownie Pudding and try not to eat it all at once. The chocolate sauce is beneath the brownie cake filled with cashews with just a hint of cayenne: both are dark and delicious. Only two pieces have disappeared.

“You just need a little perspective. Warmed chocolate can give you that.”

~ Giada De Laurentiis

On a Walk Home ~ Into the Candy Store

Usually when I leave my writing group, I head straight home. Have to pass right by the candy store! My focus went askew. I ‘needed’ more licorice at home. Not everyone favours licorice especially the delicious black licorice but that is their loss. Filled with candies of all sorts, I didn’t know where to start. I found several jars of licorice lining a shelf making it difficult to choose. My favourites are the cigars or pipes of soft black licorice with the little red candies at the end. The soft Australian black licorice is good too, but none were in the store.I did balance all that licorice with two bananas and some chocolate. A store clerk came to my rescue. Describing those favourites of mine she asked if any were sweet or salty. Salty? Never tried it. So she showed me: right there in front of me were these little bags of a mix of different licorices - sweet and salty. I’m willing to be brave!

“What she did have were Bertie Bott’s 

Every Flavour Beans, Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, 

Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties,Cauldron Cakes, 

Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange 

things Harry had never seen in his life.”

~ J.K.Rowling

Wild Weather or Just Dessert

Drip, drip, drip

dribbles and drops from eaves

windy thunk and whoooosh

brown water puddling 

in dips and shallows,

soft curving mounds of snow

My preference would be ~

soft mounded ice cream

strawberries tucked safely

between light biscuits 

drizzled in chocolate sauce 

with a cherry on top!

“You can only live in the world you ken. 

The rest is just wishful thinking or paranoia.”

~ Irvine Welsh,

Scottish novelist, playwright and short story writer

 

Winter’s Reprieve

Imagining all the things in the world. A throne carved from ice - still

standing when all the others had melted in an unseasonably warm sun. A colourful trip through nations and cultures of the world in brilliant lights and colours. Regina presented families and friends with a winter reprieve at Frost Regina. Three friends spent late afternoon enjoying it all, including hot chocolate in an inflatable igloo!

One of many - the Orient, Mexico, the U.K.,
the Netherlands, and India

“How many lessons of 

faith and beauty we should lose, 

if there were 

no winter in our year.”

~ Thomas Wentworth Higginson

The Jab

Easter eggs and the memories of many Easters gone by have filled the quiet of my home tonight. As children we celebrated the Christian religious rites in the United church. A member of the Junior and Senior choirs there was always an appropriate and uplifting anthem to sing for the congregation. Many a faithful community woman at the organ, our choir gowns crisp and ironed, we sung our hearts out. At home, we had our Easter baskets with the grass green paper strips nestling coloured candy eggs. Before Easter Sunday we dyed eggs for Easter. Not terribly intricate, but Easter eggs nonetheless. As with many of my memories, finer details have vanished in the frayed edges of these pictures. I do remember the fun of seeing the white shell of an egg turn red, or pink, blue or purple. Purple - now that was fun. Mixing up the colours. Sometimes mixing them too much and just getting a muddy yucky colour was always disappointing. 

This Easter, I am not singing in a choir, nor do I have an Easter basket. I am considering dying some eggs tomorrow in honour of the day and times gone by. Today, it was a different sort of throng I joined. Not a church congregation dressed in their Sunday best. I really do miss the fancy hats and snappy fedoras of the time. Today it was not a church, or even a community hall. There were no choirs singing, no bands playing. In one door and out another. Greeted by a cheerful ‘Top of the mornin’ to you’, the security guard directed me to follow the arrows into a rather cavernous building. My goal was not a chocolate bunny or a community meal. I came prepared with my Saskatchewan Health Card in hand, my mask and wore a short sleeved shirt - for ease of ‘the jab’. When I arrived at the reception desk, I could see I was merely one of a community of seekers of vaccination against our nemesis, the deadly Covid19 virus. New clean masks were provided us by delightful volunteers when we arrived at the reception desk. We maintained recommended distancing with reminders by big orange dots on the floor. As the line I joined moved steadily toward our end goals, men chatted about hockey games, women about children or grandchildren. The time in the lineup was probably five minutes.

White plastic chairs, small tables with all the supplies each nurse would need were set well apart from each other. At each table a registered nurse presided over immunization cards, stickers, needles and syringes, alcohol swabs and of course the vaccines. More cheerful and informative volunteers! That whole process - including the pleasantries we shared - took another five minutes. Then it was following the arrows to a waiting area with chairs properly distanced and the area staffed by more charming volunteers. We were directed to sit quietly for about 15 minutes to ensure no sudden side and untoward effects. When finished, we turned our chair to the side to indicate it needed cleaning. 

This whole Easter time event took less than thirty minutes. But, what about chocolate. There had been no candy eggs, no chocolate bunnies and we were not even given a lollypop after our ‘jab’! So it was home without a treat. But I had a solution to share with my good friend. At my kitchen table, we ate chocolate brownie pudding with ice cream, good hot coffee and topped it off with a good visit full of laughter, cell phone pictures and memories.

“If anyone or anything tries to curse or kill 

the Goodness at the Center of all things, 

it will just keep coming back to life. 

Forever Easter.”

~ David Housholder, The Blackberry Bush

Chapter One, Episode 130 - Taking a Break - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

Once typographical errors become minimal, needed revision becomes the real work of writing. Getting an idea streamed down on a page can be relatively easy. Reviewing, after hours or weeks, reveals little gaps or too much filler. Todays revision involved both. Gaps are the addition of details missed in the first several drafts. Too much filler, being too wordy, was trimmed away. (i.e. ands, buts, thats,)

Taking a Break

‘When life begins

    feeling too distant, 

When, unknowingly,

   distances lengthen

Gaps form and waver all around………. Dez had been trying to write a few lines of poetry, when Emmie came back into the dining room. The sisters had decided that they needed time off together, away from the busy and bustle of either the Estate or Hartley. Pandemic self-isolation had taught them the value of rest and relaxation away from the world and, as mature women, they enjoyed one another's company. 

While Emmie was downstairs, Dez was trying her hand at writing poetry - something she’d done in high school but had left behind with her teenage self. Her sister had gone down to the kitchen to talk with Cook. “Dez and I going to hibernate upstairs for the next twenty four hours, Cook. Is there anyway we can get our meals sent upstairs. I'm ashamed of myself. For as long as I've lived here, I really should know how meals arrived upstairs piping hot and ready to serve.” Cook smiled at her employer. “Don’t you worry about it, Miss Emmie. That old dumbwaiter still works so neither of you has to come downstairs, unless you want a midnight snack. I’ll send up your meals at the regular times and some snacks, you send the dirty dishes back. If you want anything else just send a note down. I’ll send up a fresh thermos of coffee and one of tea in the morning and in the afternoon. The two of you just have yourselves a good visit up there. It’s high time you did, too.”

Emmie contacted Brigitte and Joey to cancel anything for the next day. Joey at part-time, would just have his shift replaced so he didn’t lose any pay. On a straight salary, Brigitte’s pay wouldn’t be any less. The sudden and welcome day off would be compensation for overtime hours she had worked. Dez called Mr. Jorgensson to let him know she’d be unavailable for the next day. She wouldn’t be seeing Matt for a few days, but texted him that she would busy to prevent any unwarranted calls. All that settled, Emmie and Dez, in jeans and sweat shirts, put on their sneakers and went out for the evening. Not far, though. Just to the track where they had jogged most days of their self isolation. When they came back, there was hot chocolate and fresh popcorn on the dumbwaiter. Pyjamas on, they settled in with their goodies, blankets and a good movie. The little resident ghost, Sarah, had floated outside to her swing.

“There is virtue in work and there is virtue in rest. 

Use both and overlook neither.”

~ Alan Cohen

Chapter One, Episode 45 - Cook's Letter to Lily - Situationally Theirs

June 20, 2020

Review, Edit and Update:

Letter writing is a dying art. I pen a lot of words, and once upon a time did write letters. Birthday cards, the kind you take to a party or dinner. So I enjoy writing Cook’s letters to Lily. Editing, while it may not a dying art, is dependent on time, commitment and too often, budgets. For this review, I went to my personal files as usual where I found so many problems in wording, spelling, punctuation that I had to read my actual posting from May 07, 2020. I breathed a sigh on relief to see that all those mistakes had not made it to my readers. Despite that, I did find three tiny little missteps in the posted episode that have been fixed.

Cook's Letter to Lily

The heart of any home and especially the kitchen is the Cook. Not the gleaming silver or dated avocado appliances. Not a kitchen decorated professionally or cobbled together with thrift store finds. It is the Cook. When a kitchen empties out, as it had been with Covid19 restrictions, the beat and rhythm settles into silence. Dez and Emmie had inhabited it for two weeks when they were in isolation. Anyone coming from a jail cell, and the person rescuing them, were to be isolated for the standard two week period. While the two women were in the empty kitchen, they only used the appliances as tools. Dez did make some delicious breakfasts, but a cook makes meals and snacks of all types and for any number of people. The maestro of a symphony of deliciousness.

Yes, in the Beaufort household, there is a paycheque attached to this very creative work. But Mary Elizabeth Saunders cooked because she loved cooking. She loved the chopping and peeling and arranging. She loved the aromas of the sizzling bacon, steamy bubbling of stew or soup and the yeasty breath work of bread rising, bread baking and fresh bread welcoming butter on the first slice. Mary Elizabeth Saunders loved cooking. At the Beaufort estate she had earned the title Cook.

There is one other thing that Cook loves, though. It’s a dying art that sputters along quite sporadically for many, but for Cook is as regular as clock work. She keeps pen and paper in her desk in the kitchen, just as the whisks and spoons in the kitchen drawer. When the roast is roasting or the bread is baking, when the soup is brewing or the stew was stewing, Cook would go to the desk for her other set of tools ~ pen and paper. Today, there was nothing on the big stove but the tea kettle for Cook's pot of tea. She brought it, her tea mug, a cookie and her writing tools to the long kitchen table and settled to write to Lily, her sister who lived 'across the pond' as Cook was fond of saying.

Dearest Lily,

I got your last letter telling me about your new grandson. Thank you for the photograph. He is the spitting image of his grandpa Charley. I’ll bet Charley is proud as punch! That dear little one’s hair is just like yours was when you were a baby. I loved the pictures mom always had of our baby pictures that she kept on the side table. You with your shock of black, black hair, and two years later, me with just a thin cap of barely brown hair. My hair didn’t grow in as thick as yours until I was three months old. Now it seems I’m starting to shed that hair! I suppose when you're pushing on through your sixties that kind of thing should be expected.

Do you remember me telling you about the two people that were hired here about the same time as I was? They started a bit earlier. Well, I do have some news about the two of them and neither of them know that I know that they’ve been making eyes at each other for years. In the last while, since we’ve all been isolated, it seems things have gotten a bit….how can I say this…..hotter. Well, they have been simmering long enough, Lily. But that’s not all that’s happened with the two of them. And at their age. I just shake my head. Now here’s the really interesting part. James - that’s Digby the butler.....his father had been the butler before him. Martha Haverstock, is the Housekeeper. The three of us have been here for, I don’t know 25 or 30 years.We’ve watched young Michael Beaufort grow up and watched him get married. There have been other family weddings on the lawn, pictures taken under the big redwood tree (did I send you a picture of that tree?) and all kinds of entertaining. I’ve been the cook for all of the gatherings. But I was telling you about James and Martha.

Wouldn’t you know it but James came to me the other day when I was in to inspect the kitchen and pantry. He looked real nervous and stood like a school boy over by our big table. We still have to keep our distances so I thought that’s what he was doing. He said we wanted to talk to me. So, I thought it was about the kitchen inspection I’d just done. But that wasn’t it. He was clasping and unclasping his hands, and James is always in control, he was so nervous. So I made a pot of tea and told him to sit down. I’ve never, ever told James to sit down. I may have invited him to but, no, this time I just told him. And he did! Just like he was afraid of me or something. I asked him if he would like some tea. Now I know James likes to have coffee, but it’s my kitchen and I had a pot of tea already. I thought he might like something a little stronger. You know that I’m not one for any alcohol, but I do use it when I’m cooking. I remembered our grandfather liked his cuppa, and once in a while he’d put just a tablespoon of rum in his tea. So I did the same for James. He didn't say anything one way or another. I've had rum in the back of the cupboard for the Christmas cakes I bake every year. I told Mrs. Beaufort if she wanted  something else for her parties she had to order it for herself. I thought she’d fire me when I dug in my heels. Lucky me, she didn’t. But I can’t abide having bottles of liquor cluttering up my kitchen.

Anyway, I was telling you about James. I’ve cooked a lot of lunches and dinners for a few or a lot. But I’ve never had a good looking man, looking real nervous, come to me and say - ‘Cook…Elizabeth….would you, please, make a picnic lunch for myself and one other person. A woman.” It’s a good thing he was sitting down. He might have fallen right over. So I said: “Why James Digby, are you asking me to go on a picnic with you and make the food for it?” Well, I was just teasing him because I knew who he was taking to this picnic. It's Martha - I’ve told you about Martha before. Well, he blushed and stuttered and stammered and said “No, I’m sorry Cook. It’s Martha.” Anyway, we had a good visit after that and he settled down. He didn’t know that food for this picnic would be no different than any other picnics, except that something chocolate would be for dessert. He said he wanted to have the picnic the same day as our Staff Meeting next week.  I'll let you know how everything goes.

Well, Lily, I guess I’ve talked your ear off again. Maybe some day you can come over here for a visit and meet everyone. I guess that would have to be when the pandemic is settled and all the restrictions are gone. Thanks for your letters, I love reading about what you are doing and I know you are all right.

You take care Lily and give my love to Charley,

Love you,

Mary Elizabeth

p.s. don’t forget to wash your hands

“Letters have to pass two tests before they can be classed a good: 

they must express the personality both of the writer and of the recipient.”

~ E.M.Forster

After Dinner

Chocolate and mint ~

planted, plucked, and 

blended for our pleasure

~ two great gifts from nature.

“There is something of the marvellous in all things of nature.”

~ Aristotle

Birthday Cakes, Cabbage Rolls and Sushi

Temptation comes from deep in the gut

Or from the delicious aroma of chocolate chip cookies

steak on the grill on a cool summer’s evening

chicken soup broth bubbling and simmering

each one nourishing - well maybe not the cookies

but nourishment is more than just of the body ~

each bite, each taste brings up a memory of breakfasts and dinners and snacks and lunches,

celebrations with family and friends,

ordinary meals at home or away ~

and each bite, each taste we make in our kitchens,

eat in favourite restaurants or at foodcarts on the street

breeds the temptation to enjoy our food without guilt.

“I generally avoid temptation unless I can’t resist it.”

~ Mae West

In Wind and Sun

A walk on the Ogden Point Breakwater, 
Visit with the goats at Beacon Hill Childrens Farm, 
summer's taste of chocolate dipped soft ice cream at Beacon Hill Drive Inn 
meeting up with Corette and other family members for our walk at Whiffenspit. 

In wind and sun

we held close together

at Sooke’s Whiffenspit

grateful for family love.'

“To us, family means putting your arms 

around each other and being there.”
~ Barbara Bush

Home Making

Chocolate chip oatmeal cookies
Crispy, warm and delicious
I don’t have to be curious to 
mix and stir, shape and space carefully on cookie sheets ~ bake and patiently wait.

Memories of homemade cookies
from the past has me paging through cook books, loose recipes and Google
 ~ any sources of made at home deliciousness.

“Today me will live in the moment, unless it is unpleasant, 
in which case me will eat a cookie.”

~ Cookie Monster

Recipe at:  
www.food.com