Cooking Journal - Supper Guests

With T’s departure, I once-again embraced hosting friends for supper at my house.  I love planning and cooking for a dinner party on a Saturday night and I am glad to return to hosting guests.  

In the past few months, I’ve served a few new recipes and cooked up some old favorites. This week, we’ll celebrate JT’s birthday with some special suppers: he’s requested chicken tacos and fried chicken, two of his favorites that I am always happy to make.  I’ve made a list with ideas for hosting more people in the coming months - game nights, a tea party, backyard cookouts.  It’s all on the table and that’s very happy.  

Headed Home

I’ve been in California since the 2nd of the month, to be with my family after my dad’s death and to spend some extra time with my mom as she navigates this next chapter in her world.  She’s a trooper, as my sister and I expected, but it’s a big change for her.  This time has been a blessing, as I helped her with some practical tasks and took the time to remind her of her own strengths as she plans for her future.  I head back home to New Jersey this morning confident that my mom will be okay and I’m looking forward to being home. 

My house is my favorite place in the world, a blessing beyond compare in my daily life.  It’s welcoming and cozy; my always lovely place to land and refresh my spirit.  It’s the place with my front porch, my plants, and my books, the things that feed my soul on a daily basis.  I’m ready to see JT, to see Lucy Cat in her sunny basket (and, if we’re honest, to entertain her grievances about my absence, a process that may last a few weeks).  I’m ready to prop my feet on my ottoman, make a pot of tea, rest my head on my cool pillow under the down comforter in my soft bed, and sip my morning cup of coffee as I admire the dawn sky from my back window. 

Home is where my heart is and I’ll be so glad to step through the front door tonight.

Style Journal - Living Room Update

My living room furniture was already well-used when the pandemic struck.  The extra time at home hastened its demise.  T didn’t want to buy new furniture while we still had a cat in the home and there was some logic to that argument, though it left us with worn out and increasingly uncomfortable furniture.  When she left, so did the logic that kept me from nice furniture in my living room.  To me, a home needs to be comfortable and cozy and the furniture should help to create that vibe.  So it is that I have a new sofa, chair, and ottoman. 

The old sofa was chocolate brown, which was warm and cozy in the Winter but felt rather dark in the Summer.  

The new furniture is in shades of blue - my favorite color - and I am incredibly pleased with how it fits in the room.  Things are still cozy for the Winter and in the Summer I think that the room will feel more cool.

I will spend a whole lot of time reading in this comfortable corner of the room, surrounded by my books and the light from the windows. 

There are new pillow covers and window treatments to accompany the furniture.  My mom made the valences out of fabric from Rifle Paper, which I love.  There was enough left over for some extra pillow covers, and my handy seamstress ran those up for me. 

Lucy’s window corner got an updated rug that brings me a smile every time I pass by. 

This room is very much an expression of me and it makes me glad to be at home.  I am best pleased by it all. 

Cooking Journal - January

 I love to set a table for dining.  I like dishes and linens (and have more of them than is reasonable or necessary in my small home); I like the look of my antique farm table when it’s set for daily supper; I like sitting down to eat a homemade meal in the dining room.  I’m a good cook and over the years I’ve learned to make elaborate and time-consuming dishes for weekend dining.  But I’m just as likely to put a tasty supper on the table at the end of a busy work day.  I am grateful for both skills; cooking is one of the main ways that I care for myself and my family. 

When T and I were together, she preferred to eat while watching television.  But for the occasional Friday night pizza and a movie, I found this habit appalling.  But I told myself that relationships are about compromise and I ate in front of the TV.  In the months since we parted, I am also able to recognize that it was easier to eat on a TV tray than deal with the passive aggression that would greet a meal served at the table. That is - perhaps - a story for another day.

Since T departed, meals are now served at the dining room table.  I’ve made quite a few new recipes as well, which is also a source of pleasure to me.  I gave myself Jen Hatmaker’s, “Feed These People” for my birthday and so far every recipe I’ve made from the cookbook has been a winner.  That is certainly the case for this pork banh mi sandwich that has become a delicious favorite. 

It’s easy to make and smells amazing.  It’s as good in leftover form as it is when served fresh, thanks to the pickled veg served on top.  Most of the work to make it comes together in the morning (or even the night before) and that is also pleasing, as it sets me up for a quick meal to be on the table on a busy night.  Home-cooked meals served on a nicely set table are one of the easiest pleasures in life and that’s happy, indeed.

Blessings

Happily, I never weary of my yard.  Sassafras House has lots of windows and from them I can see the outdoors from every room. I never tire of this view of the outdoors, especially in the growing season, when the green makes my heart glad.  From the front yard…

…to the back deck…

…there is beauty everywhere I look.  In a world that is mostly shrunk to the homefront, I feel grateful for the sight through the windows.

That's happy!

Front Porch in August

All the variegated leaf plants have joined the flowering plants for the August front porch table.  There’s a red and white tablecloth to anchor the festivities.

The flip flop flag remains because flip flops always make me happy.  This picture faces East and in the humid haze the coming tropical storm can be seen.

The other plants are spread around the porch to soak up their share of the warmth and sunshine.

I drink my morning coffee in this spot and I never tire of the verdant refuge that is this front porch.

July Front Porch

If the theme in my flowerbeds is lush and over grown (and it is), there there is no reason such a theme cannot be carried over to the front porch.  And so it does.

T gave me a flip flop flag and wreath and July is the perfect month for a woman loathe to wear shoes.

The ease of Summer is something I long for in the cold weather and never take for granted when the warm days settle around us.  I start my day on this front porch every day of the Summer and I never tire of the plant-fortified view that greets me in the morning.

Given the time, I’m out here in the afternoon with my iced tea and my books.  It’s my favorite room of the house this time of year and I spend so much time here that I can spy a new leaf on my plants the moment it first begins to bud.  Pandemic worries aside, the Summer is determined to fly right past.  I am making the most of it while it’s here.

Golden Hour Days

The last hour of sunlight in late June and July is splendid on clear days and for a few minutes before the dusk truly settles around us, the whole of Sassafras House is aglow with light so magical that even calling it the Golden Hour doesn’t sum up how lovely it is.

Saturday evening the light was especially nice and I popped outside to make some pictures.

I find such joy in moments like this; a pleasure that infuses my heart for longer than the moment itself lasts.  

Summer, with its verdant plants and blooms, with its ease and warm blue skies, seems an especially nice time to pause and enjoy the Golden Hour.

Tiny House Tuesday: Brown Ceramic House

Being at home has reminded me to appreciate the little knick knacks and collections that make my house a home.  I have several collections of this sort and for the next few Tuesdays I plan to write about one of them: my tiny house collection.  All told, I have 6 small houses and though it’s not a large collection (in terms of numbers or size), I’ve had some of these houses for years and the collection always makes me smile.  Most of the houses live on the bookshelf in the living room but today’s house is safely tucked in a spot in the dining room.   

This house was made by an artist who taught at my school, Frances Mackey.  She gave it to me when she noticed that 4 year old JT liked to have small items in his pockets.  He carried it home in his pocket that day and then we put it in a safe spot.  These days, it lives between a couple of brown clay squirrels, next to a ceramics project that JT made in kindergarten.  That project is flat and has the imprint of a leaf on it and is known as “pizza rock” because that’s where we tuck money for pizza delivery.  The little brown house is charming and tucked among other beloved items, it always makes me smile.

Report from the Homefront: Work from Home Rookie edition

The first few days of shelter in place expectations found me on Spring Break and, in theory, I was on vacation.  But it was already abundantly clear that we would not be returning to regular classes on March 30 and so I was working every day, in my usual dual capacity, as both a 7th grade history teacher and a school administrator.  Sorting out the logistics of teaching my classes from home and helping to make plans for the rest of the school to run remotely meant busy days.

Despite the work that clearly needed doing, I was in need of a break. So I decided that I would fully embrace the work from home advantage and spend my days in my pajamas.

Take that, pandemic!

By day 3, I was morose and filled with despair.  It became abundantly clear that while I had no choice but to be the-work-from-home-type, I was not the work-from-home-in-your pajamas type.  T, who has worked from home for more than 5 years and has the pajama collection to prove it, made the diagnosis: working from home in your nightgown is not for you, she suggested, while backing away from my piteous glare.

That was during the first week of this nonsense.  Here at the end of week 4, I’ve recognized how much I like routines and so I’ve made new ones to reflect current stay-at-home conditions.  During the weekdays, I set an alarm for 7 am, shower, get dressed in actual clothes (though not shoes), and then come downstairs to get to work in my study.  I take a break to eat breakfast, style my hair, and brush my teeth before classes begin.  Basically, I’ve inserted routines into my home life, where I hadn’t needed them before.  

Happily, though I sometimes feel the jitters of being housebound, I love Sassafras House.  I enjoy working in my brightly lit and newly well-organized study.  Spring and our growing ability to be outside certainly helps.  Being aware of my multiple blessings helps even more.  I may not be able to work in pajamas but my flip flop collection is really earning its keep.  And that’s happy!

Report from the Home Front: Routines and Grace edition

T has been working from home for several years and that gave me a leg up on identifying strategies that will work for me as I begin teaching from home next week.  

Last week, I planned to take a break from schoolwork and so I spent time in pajamas on the sofa.  Pretty quickly, I learned that all-day- pajamas and Twitter was a recipe for personal disaster.  By the time T emerged from her office for lunch, I was a nervous wreck.  It wasn’t the alone-time that got me; it was the pace of alarming news.  A need to be cheerful for JT meant that T got all my worries, in one giant bucket-load.

Not cool.  Also, not useful.  And honestly no surprise….I am a creature of habits.  If I have a middle school mantra, it’s this:  The only thing you can control is yourself.  So I took a page from that playbook and got my crap together.

Twitter and pandemic news is now regulated.

NPR and twice-a-day NYT are fine.  TV news and the Cheetoh-in-chief daily media shitstorm are out.  

Leisurely mornings are fine (for now).  But I need to shower and put on clothes for the day, even if I never leave the house.  And I need a plan and a variety of activities.  Reading, writing, time in the garden, checking in on my parents via phone, stretches, school work, organizing things in the study for my school work, watching TV, house chores, getting supper on the table…..there is time for all of it.  This kind of variety adds to my day and eases my anxiety.

And so I am moving forward in this new landscape with routines and a plan to help shape my days.  I am controlling what I can control, taking care of my people and my self, and wishing every day to summon the grace necessary to get through this.

One day at a time, y’all.

Front Porch in March

March didn’t come in like a lion around here.  It was sunny and breezy and cold, but that’s not much of a roaring lion.  Though it’s been a mild Winter, I am ready for the sunlight and warmth and on the first I headed straight out to the porch to welcome the coming Spring.  The front door has my Easter wreath.  It’s probably a tad early but I make the porch decorating rules around here so the Easter wreath is a go.  

And it an Easter wreath has made its appearance, a bunny flag is also in order.

The table has pastels and greenery to go with my goofy tin lamb.  There are fairy lights and flowers to welcome in the longer days.

Though March is shaping up to be one hell of a month (seriously, a pandemic, what the fuck?), the porch offers hope about brighter days to come.  

News from the Inside

I can’t be the only person in the universe who feels like days are incredibly slow even while they are filled with big events.  Last week - the last week of classes before our two week Spring Break - was a literal whirlwind.  I started the week hopeful that the COVID-19 madness would slow and arrived at Wednesday utterly convinced that it would not.  On Thursday at 2:15, my school made the decision to close early for Spring Break.  By Friday, it was clear that our March 30 return to Spring Break would be via remote learning.  I stayed late at school that afternoon, packing up everything I would need to teach my 7th grade history classes from home for the rest of the year.

On Wednesday, JT learned he would be in an extended dance mix Spring Break and he and I made plans via phone for him to bring everything he could back home.  Here at home, T, who fixes computers remotely, was herself enmeshed in some very long days.

I avoid the panic-stricken news and instead listen to NPR and read the New York Times and Vox, so that I am not overwhelmed with anxiety.  Because, really, this is an anxiety-producing landscape.  Each day, I make a plan to find at least one thing for which be grateful.  My family, always, of course.  And then something else…..a daffodil in the garden, the sound of my son’s laughter, the way that T makes me laugh.

We can do this y’all, one day at a time if necessary.  As we say in New Jersey, take care.

Front Porch in February

Much to T’s dismay, the garden around Sassafras House is covered in ivy.  At various points, I do try to limit the ivy but that’s only under duress (it’s climbing over a window or choking a hosta plant).  Not so secretly, I love ivy.  This Winter, I left a pot of ivy out on the porch.  The hearty ivy is holding its own and is the center of the February front porch table.

Hearts are the theme, of course.  The tablecloth is new, a Christmas gift from my mom.

The polka dot ribbon on the front door wreath makes me happy; polka dots always do.

The flag is cheerful, which befits the sunny day that started our month.

With 29 days to its name, I am happy that the last full month of Winter has made its arrival.  This month is JT’s birthday and memories of the day he was born are always nice to recall.  March (and Spring!) feels as if they are just around the corner, because they are.  That’s happy!

The Little Kitchen That Could

My kitchen is small — I joke that it’s a one-bootie kitchen — but that is largely true.  Two people at work at these counters have to coordinate carefully.  From the edge of one countertop to the other is only 6.5 x 8 feet.  Space is maximized as much as possible and from this small (and, I think, charming) kitchen comes a whole lot of delicious cooking.

At no time has this been as clear as it is this past week, with JT home and my parents in town.  I’m cooking family meals and prepping holiday treats on overload.  With T’s help, I’ve made sour dough bread; coffee cake; pulled pork with coleslaw; baked potato soup; cowboy chicken; homemade salad dressing, 4 pounds (!) of baked potatoes; caramel pie; chocolate kahlua cake; a host of dips and appetizers for Christmas Eve………and the party isn’t over yet because Christmas Day supper is on the horizon.  

The 20 plus years-old dishwasher is in overdrive, running loads three or four times a day.  I am grateful each time it gurgles to life.  And I am glad to have the blessing of family for whom I may stir, cook, and bake.  Here’s to a happy Christmas Eve, y’all!

The Napping House

I texted this picture to JT this morning, a reminder that his home - and rest - await him when final exams are finished.  The picture was made over Thanksgiving Break when he was home for a few days and glad to put his feet up.  Though he’s back in the thick of it now, with a week to go until exams have finished, it is this image that I hold in my mind as I wait for his return.  

Apparently, I’m not the only creature at Sassafras House that misses him.

November Front Porch

The front porch is always ready for the next season.  The Halloween decorations have been packed away and replaced by November’s thankful display.

Pumpkins, mums, and gourds remain the theme of the season, though I am well aware that soon enough the local wildlife will hop up here to treat the table’s bounty as their own personal buffet.

As a child, I thought of Thanksgiving as the boring prelude to the spell of joy that is December.  My father always preferred Thanksgiving and the older I get the more I appreciate a month that reminds us to be grateful for our blessings in this life.  This is the thankful season and being thankful means that I am glad to share with any hungry creatures.  I am always thankful for my home and there is no reason not to share our gratitude with others.

Happy November, y’all!

Halloween!

My town is a near perfect place to trick-or-treat, with even sidewalks and residents who get in to the holiday.  Jack-o-lanterns and decorations are everywhere and along with the crunchy leaves on the sidewalks, we are ready.  As the twilight lengthens, I can hear more kids coming out to join the fun.  We laid in a substantial candy supply at Sassafras House and I am sitting out on the porch in my witch costume so I can soak up the evening,

Between the twilight and the excited kids, the night feels magical.  That’s happy!

Seasons

On Sunday morning after two days spent in New England, I took my coffee and book out to the front porch in the morning.  It was sunny and pleasant, warm, but but hot.  There was a slight breeze rustling the fallen  leaves of the neighborhood sycamore trees.  Birds were chirping and in the distance I could near the woodpecker that lives across the street.  It was pleasant and as I sat in the rocker I read and daydreamed about the pumpkins and mums I will set out for October.  I thought of the coming end the front porch season, a transition I only accept because it means warms sweaters and then the twinkling lights and fresh pines smells of December.

I’d made a generous pot of coffee and as I refilled my cup, the breeze picked up and blew clouds over the sun.  The birds began a nap and the only sounds were crickets and rustling leaves.  It was as if my thoughts about October had conjured the arrival of fall.  As much as I’m sad about the passing of flip flop season, I’m looking forward to the seasonal change.  The defined seasons are one of the nicest parts of life in New Jersey and I enjoy the transition to a new season as much as I enjoy the season themselves.  

An Ode to My Back Yard

The backyard at Sassafras House is lush and green, overgrown, really, but I rather like it that way.  Though I have lived away from California for years, that state and my hometown in the arid Central Valley is my default setting of what a landscape should look like.  A yard like this feels exotic and wonderful to me.

There is a garden behind the garage.  These days, it’s a small patch with tomatoes, basil, and zinnias, looking quite hazy in this morning’s fog.

The plot back there is capable of being quite large.  This spring, I lacked the time to properly set up the whole patch because I was busy getting ready for T to move in.  But underneath the overgrown ivy are roses and hostas (always the hostas with me) and this Fall, with T moved in, I really hope there will be time to clean out the whole patch, add some Spring-blooming bulbs, fertilize it in the Winter, and plant a huge garden come the Spring.  Until then, I’m pleased with what I have.  There are some canna bulbs getting after a showy display, my turtle garden marker, the sprinkler ready for action as the heat builds.  I visit the patch daily, to check on the progress of my growing plants.

Though my apple and pear trees invariably surrender their harvest to the squirrels, the peach tree alongside the fairy garden may bring me a crop this year.  I very much hope so because I can nearly taste the peach ice cream this fruit might could flavor in a few weeks.  I’m excited about the potential but, like any sensible gardener, resigned to an outcome that is less than ideal.

I like a garden and yard that are works in progress, as this one always is.  For all its imperfections, it’s a lovely corner of my world.  Between the red oak and the dogwood, there are branches soaring high in the blue sky.

We sit on the back deck under the shade of these trees and enjoy the chitter of the squirrels as they try to help themselves to the bird feeder and peaches and then sleep off their food coma in the dogwood tree.  I welcome the cardinals, goldfinches, and robins that visit here.  Come the evening, I glory in the lightening bugs that light up the dark corners.

The backyard feels like home and that’s very happy.