People Love Freedom

Posted on September 8, 2016 by alivingpencil

From My Only Comfort, a book I’m slowly reading.

27 Summer Benedictions

Posted on September 3, 2016 by alivingpencil

My summer has included grief, groans, and groping in the dark.
Same as you.
So this is not intended to be an episode of ‘my beautiful life’.
It is my retrospect of benedictions as I press onward.

:: Farmer grandson in line to show his sheep at Stock Show ::

:: experimental gardening growing Brussells Sprouts ::

:: captivating clematis ::

:: Mint, juice of one lime, Truvia, ice, and water ::

:: her hair reminds me of a Fibonacci spiral ::

:: halfway through The Pat Conroy Cookbook – a good book for foodies ::

:: garlic scapes and wood rounds ::

:: the moments before Susan from Munich arrived ::

:: anniversary camping trip, Curt reading Shop Class as Soulcraft ::

:: Hart Mountain National Antelope Refuge ::

:: reminds me of Hank, the Cowdog ::

:: glory, glory, glory!! a surprise sibling reunion! ::

:: Chris & Jessie’s table set for an extended family dinner ::

:: Who knew 80 could look so glamorous? ::

:: this girl, our youngest grand, lives life with zest ::

:: moving up the ladder ::

:: breakfast with Jack & Stacia, who mentored Curt in his teen years in Los Angeles ::

:: harvest golden tones ::

:: Papa cheesing it up with our Seattle grandsons ::

:: Fair is where you take the hogs in August ::

:: my ongoing magnet project — thank you, Shutterfly! ::

:: last year I saved zinnia seeds. My frugal self is exultant. ::

:: squash blossoms, garlic and cilantro from the garden; the makings of quesadillas ::

:: teddy bear doubling as a pillow ::

:: day is done (pinching myself that we live here) ::

:: chipmunk visiting during my day of silence and solitude ::

10 Things about June

Posted on June 17, 2016 by alivingpencil

When she saw Reading Cookbooks , Donna at Quiet Life
recommended The Pat Conroy Cookbook to me.

Her hair is so fine, it won’t stay in line. Her aunt fixed this pixie.

Hanging plants at my house: a cycle of death and resurrection.
When blossoms are perky, I take a picture.

No dimples today. That’s okay.

Penstemon: a happy perennial. The bee’s knees.

How to eat peanut butter and honey with sacramental gladness.

Garlic scapes: attractive parabolas

Oh, beloved clematis, you always amaze and delight me.

My farmer grandson ready for showmanship.

My young friend with a beguiling smile.

5 Cookbooks To Read

Posted on May 28, 2016 by alivingpencil

Little did I know, last fall when I read Shauna Niequiest’s Bread and Wine , that soon I would employ one of her coping mechanisms for dealing with grief—reading cookbooks. Without a plot there isn’t story grip, but that works well when it is hard to focus. Shauna’s book is simply a memoir with a few recipes. Besides introducing me to Nigella, I found her thoughts on hospitality and on feasting/fasting helpful.

Nigella Kitchen is the first full-length cookbook that I read like a novel. Ah, Nigella! This was the best choice for me. She writes with sparkly and surprising words, tosses in literary allusions, and takes unalloyed pleasure in alliteration. (I was at the stove, pontificating and pottering, occasionally pushing and prodding what was in front of me with a pair of tongs…) Her words are cozy and comforting: those of us who warm our souls by the stove and the solace of stirring. The pictures are sumptuous. This is all the joy of butter pecan ice cream without the calories.

A friend gave me Gluten-Free Girl and the Chef , a gluten-light person (except when I’m not). Two things drew me to Shauna Ahern: her response to a celiac diagnosis—saying ‘yes’ to everything she could eat instead of mourning what she couldn’t— and her deep/high/broad respect for her chef husband. There’s almost too much dancing and kissing and gazing and shopping-is-foreplaying, but I’d rather that than the condescending tone Molly Wizenberg had towards her husband in Delancey. My cookbook shelf was crowded and I had expected to ‘read and release’ this. The recipes are highbrow, more Julia Child than Pioneer Woman. But I have to make a few, so I’m keeping this one. I love the way Danny and Shauna formatted the recipes.

When How to Cook Without a Book appeared on a bride’s wish list, I did the tightwad cha-cha-cha and read it entirely (after washing my hands) before I gave it to her. Then I repented and bought a copy for myself. Pam Anderson is earnest and straightforward. But this is a book to be read more for education than entertainment. Many good tips, including using won ton wrappers for ravioli.

There is a kind of woman who makes all sorts of people consider her their best friend. That’s Ree Drummond! The Pioneer Woman Cooks welcomes you to her ranch and kitchen and walks you through recipes step-by-step. Rich in photography, in conversational writing, and in wacky humor, this might be the best place to start if you want to read cookbooks like novels, too!

After I’ve consumed these cookbooks, I’ll write another post: 5 More Cookbooks to Read

Awake Thou Wintry Earth

Posted on February 12, 2016 by alivingpencil

Chives growing in my garden, February 12, 2016

Awake, Thou Wintry Earth is almost a life anthem. I came to Thomas Blackburn’s poem by way of Bach’s Cantata 129. When I heard it, I came to understand in a new way that spring is an annual demonstration of resurrection. Listening to this still gives me shivers. Singing it means I end up whispering to tell that dead is dead over a voice that is breaking.

I took a walk around my backyard this morning and was delighted to hear garlic and chives laughing at winter, death, decay.

Awake thou wintry earth,

fling off, fling off thy sadness;

ye vernal flowers laugh forth,

laugh forth your ancient gladness.

A new and lovely tale

through-out the land is spread;

it floats o’er hill and dale
to tell that death is dead.

Here is a joyful organ. 1 1/2 minutes that will lift your day high. Sing along! It’s pretty loud; turn your sound down. Or don’t. The organ is a dominating instrument and its volume is glorious!

One of My Favorite Q Quotes

Image

Emma’s Wedding

Posted on September 27, 2014 by alivingpencil

Today, it’s been two months since my niece Emma married Glyn. In my life, the big things aren’t cemented until I’ve written them. From writing this wedding I have cowered, knowing my word hoard hasn’t the depth or width required. I refuse to use ‘epic’ and ‘awesome’, yet I’m still searching for the best words.

It was a grand Coming Together. Emma is American. Glyn is British. They live in Turkey. Their friends live all over the world. Each mileage sign represents someone who came to the wedding. The only continents not represented were South America, Australia, and Antarctica.

This wedding occupied three days. Everyone was invited to the rehearsal dinner aka Lobster Feed, the wedding the next day, and a brunch the day after the wedding. It resembled the medieval feasts that I read about in my books.

The ceremony was held under the ancient apple tree.

The background was my sister-in-law’s glorious garden.

She grew almost all the flowers for the wedding.

My daughter-in-law made the bride’s bouquet.

A sail cloth tent hovered over the festivities.
My grandson said, “Nana, it looks like Narnia.”

The tables were set.

Mismatched china completely charmed me.
‘Elegant simplicity’ set the tone.

All the cloths under the flowers were purchased
at the bazaar in Istanbul.

My brother, the tenor, sang Simple Gifts, a song
that he sang at the wedding of Emma’s parents.

Emma and Glyn listen.

Kids were welcomed with open arms.
Not often does one hear, “I’m so glad you brought all your kids!“

We’ve always loved Emma; it was easy to see why she loved Glyn.
They are both strong, generous, compassionate, and fun.
Not to mention smart. They have our deep respect.

As long as I’m giving honor, let me say that my brother Jim
and my sister-by-marriage Kathleen were stellar. This event was
the culmination of a lifetime of love invested in their family, work on
their homestead, their habits of beauty, blessing, and hospitality.

Emma’s older brother Will—best friend of bride
and groom—officiated. This was his first gig. We called
him—tongue in cheek—”Brother Will.”

There were some great toasts: sweet, witty, heartfelt.
But at the end of the day, what everyone remembered
and remarked on was Jim’s toast to his daughter.

Then we took the party to the barn.

My grandson (with the hat) rocked the reception
with his unique style of dance.

It is a Turkish custom to have fireworks at a wedding.

It was a magical evening.

This is our family (missing our son Collin).
The extended tribe (my siblings and their descendants)
present numbered 39. There were gaps here and there.
We cherish time together and relished the gift.

With the help of Facebook and texting, my kids and their cousins
are much closer than my generation was with ours.
It is a delight to see their friendships deepen.

2014 will forever be the summer of Emma’s wedding.

My photographer brother’s photos.

Link to the magnificent photographer’s pictures.
(She shoots film.)

Thankful, Spring Edition

Posted on April 23, 2014 by alivingpencil

Thanks givings aren’t just for November. Here is one I wrote in the spring of 2009.

A Living Pencil

Fair sunshine and small flecks of green,
revealing treasures in the ground,
an opened window, freshened air,
the deep inhaling of this grace.

Sorrow distilled,
ache and agony
poured in one vessel,
yearning for relief;
You who gather tears in a bottle,
hear our prayer.

For reunions in the produce section,
full-exposure answers to politely worded questions,
so satisfying an exchange
that we wonder why
we ever let our friendship
drift…

For a cataract of books,
flooding my shelves,
swamping my senses.
I splash
and sing
and scoop them up,
drenched in delight,
mesmerized by the mist
of so many nourishing words.

Balsamic vinegar,
fresh-squeezed lime,
tangy smooth yogurt,
crumbled cashews,
aroma of cilantro,
pan-fried asparagus,
savory lamb,
sweet oranges,
a cup of cold water.

For a well-placed chord or two,
a progression that knocks down
any preconceived notions,
a new way of hearing
a familiar tune.

For nicknames and

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Edith Irvine, Photographer of SF Earthquake

Posted on January 31, 2014 by alivingpencil

Kristiana Gregory’s YA book, Earthquake at Dawn, was my bonus read this month. It is historical fiction at its best: a tragic and fascinating story based on and including primary sources. Through this book I learned about Edith Irvine, an extraordinary photographer. In a mighty strange convergence, Edith, 22, was in a boat about to dock at 5:12 a.m. April 18, when the shaking and quaking of the 1906 Earthquake began.

A photojournalist at heart, she went into the city and started to take pictures. She had to be surreptitious, because the city government wanted to minimize both the death toll and the damage. With martial law in effect, Irvine took great risks in documenting the destruction.

A few sentences from a letter written on May 1, 2006 by Mary Exa Atkins Campbell head every chapter.

Streams of people in white and colored garments poured into the streets and for a time we remained, a mourning, groaning, sobbing, wailing, weeping and praying crowd. The most pathetic of all were the poor half-clad women clasping little infants in their arms and begging for mercy.

The picture of the horses killed by the falling bricks is the most famous photograph of Edith Irvine’s.

Martial law went into effect, with no due process regarding crime. Mary Exa, again:

The big fire in the mission [district] was caused by a man and woman who, after being made to put out the first fire they made, built another as soon as the policeman left. He came back, saw what they had done, called them out and shot them dead.

Hordes of people were displaced; they camped out at Golden Gate Park Mary Exa wrote that sixteen little babies were born in the Park the day after the quake and one woman had triplets.

Edith Irvine overwhelmed my imagination. Irvine, CA, is named after her family. I have been slowly browsing the 293 photos in the online collection at Brigham Young University. There are photos of Yosemite, the mining town she grew up in, dams being built, cats, horses, portraits and scenes from everyday life.

All photographs are from the Brigham Young University library. You can see the entire collection online.

55 Photographs

Posted on September 2, 2012 by alivingpencil

Sherry was kind enough to be born exactly three months before me.
Her annual celebrations give me great ideas, which, alas, I seldom do.
But, this year, I believe I will follow through on several 55 lists.
It’s not my birthday today, but September is my birthday month.

Let’s start with 55 Photographs.
Oh, the places you will go!
One benefit of coming from a large, spread out family is that you just have to visit your people.
Here are 55 cherished memories.
I took each photo and would appreciate you asking before you download.