Home again
After 10 days on the road in our Trillium trailer, we are back home safe and sound. Details to follow . . .
After 10 days on the road in our Trillium trailer, we are back home safe and sound. Details to follow . . .
Bugs have become a recurring theme lately around our house. If it isn’t gypsy moth caterpillars in the apple trees, it’s yellow jackets building a nest under our patio table. Fortunately we noticed a lot of activity around the table and discovered the nest before giving the table a good yank or knocking into the nest with our knees. Gary did the honours of removing the nest and let it be noted that he showed exceptional valour.
I spent some time in Victoria’s chinatown this week, while waiting for our car to be repaired. We are a one-car family, so I hopped the bus into town and brought my sketchbook with me. Which was a good thing to have, since there’s not much open in Victoria at 8:30 am. I love that time of morning when the coffee shops and breakfast places are busy and people are off to work. Stores are closed and different city things are happening: window washing, trucks making deliveries. It was a beautiful sunny spring day.
Our veggie patch is now tilled, amended, and planted. Radishes, chard and lettuce are sprouting so far. I’m also happy to see that my years of neglect are paying off in the herb garden. I love those plants that just want to be ignored. Some of my sage, oregano, parsley and thyme plants that I started two years ago are pretty well established now. My plan is to keep reclaiming ground from the overgrown gardens and plant more of those neglect-tolerant plants. I call it the “clear, hold and grow” strategy. And then eat.
Having the Bruins and Celtics both in the playoffs, yet living in Victoria? Best of times, worst of times.
A couple of weeks ago, Gary and I were watching Elvis Costello with James Taylor on Spectacle. (Anyone watching that by the way?) Elvis asked James Taylor about North Carolina, where he grew up, and he described it as the “place of my longing.” I like that phrase: that idea of home, how places become something more than what they are in reality. It’s not so much that you idealize that place, or even that you think being there would be so great. But memory distills moments from that time and place, and that feeling of home, into a few amber drops of honey that are held in the heart.
I once read something Joe Pernice wrote about his song “Somerville,” I think the phrase was that Boston is “far from the best city ever invented,” but he misses it anyway because he’s from there. Which is pretty much what I’m saying, but a lot more concise. I get that irrational longing sometimes. You know the longing is irrational when you start to get misty watching “The Departed.”
Speaking of which, when I was in Boston a few weeks ago I went to opening day at Fenway Park with my brother who awesomely got me a ticket. I wasn’t even supposed to arrive in time, but the game was awesomely (for me) rain-delayed by one day allowing me to actually go. So here’s the kind of moment that will never take place in Victoria (much as I love it): Bullpen door opens, and “Shipping Up to Boston” by the Dropkick Murphys plays as Jonathan Papelbon stalks to the mound (in his scary intense way) to close the game. I can’t explain it.
Unrelatedly: the Dropkick Murphys used to show a highlight reel of former Bruins goon PJ Stock mugging various players. And now he’s a commentator on Hockey Night in Canada with perfect teeth. He’s pretty good actually. And for you Boston people: Do you know that Don Cherry is like royalty up here? Do you know about his suits? I don’t think the vital status of Don Cherry in Canadian life is well known in Boston, but I may be wrong. Google Coach’s Corner.
Oh well, its up to the Celtics now, with the Bruins losing in overtime tonight to end their season. They lost in pretty good style, though. One last word to Patrice Bergeron — keep the playoff beard!
Fifty cents for this beauty! The Mighty Metchosin Garage Sale comes through again. Its an annual benefit for the community house in our little town, and involves fantastic bargains and shopping for all the stuff your neighbors are throwing away. Last year we went at the end (prices in the basement), and this year we traded up for better selection, and went first thing Saturday. Frankly, prices were still dirt cheap, and there were some goodies to be found.
My favorite find is this little travel diary in it’s own zipper case, complete with someone’s travel notes and ticket stubs.
The front section has all kinds of handy reference information for the traveller. Lovely old maps, and an array of advice for the oceangoing passenger, such as Time Keeping at Sea and Ocean Lanes and Distances. And this under Miscellaneous: “Travel light. Secure a deck chair when obtaining ticket and arrange that the deck chair is placed on the starboard side of the promenade deck when sailing East, and port side when sailing west.” (The origin of “Posh” — Port Out, Starboard Home). And don’t forget to be prepared for those fancy dress balls!
The last thing I found was a box full of beautiful and interesting stamps that I also bought for a song. They turned out even better than I realized when I bought them. I also got some Golden Books to collage. There’s something muted and nostalgic about the color and the printing of the books that I really like. At least the sixties, seventies era books.
That was just the beginning of a lovely weekend. Saturday was just a gorgeous, beautiful sunny spring day verging on summer-like. In the afternoon, we drove up the island to Qualicum Beach, where we’d been given the gift of an overnight stay in a little hotel on the beach (thanks Mom!). We poked around town, relaxed on the balcony, looked at the water, walked on the beach, had a good dinner, read books and generally felt like we were on vacation. This morning we scoped out Rathtrevor Beach for future camping prospects. Looks like a great camping spot, with beautiful big trees, mountain views and a wide beach.
The only thing missing was Sam, who stayed at home being looked after by our neighbor. Since we drove across the US on our move to BC, we’ve gotten used to having Sam with us most of the time. So on the drive home today, we talked about how to arthritis-proof our trailer (Sam’s shoulder has started to act up when jumping down from things), and our possible itinerary for a trip to Jasper next month. How I love that looking forward feeling.
Well, not quite. But I have been to some very nice places. This little cabin overlooking the Pacific, where Mount Tamalpais meets the sea, north of the beautiful magical city of San Francisco, and shared with great friends, is one of them.
Talk about dumb luck. A few weeks ago, I set off for a visit to Boston and made a stop in San Francisco to visit my dear friends Laura and Tom and their kids for the weekend. When they picked me up at the airport Saturday morning, I learned they had a surprise in store for that night. By a fluke, a friend of theirs had reservations that weekend at a campsite called Steep Ravine and couldn’t use them. A second friend used the reservation Friday night but couldn’t stay Saturday. As Laura says, this was like winning the lottery. These sites are really, really hard to get. They book for the season almost immediately. Pretty soon we were packing the car with camping goodies and on our way for a breathtaking ride over the mountain to the coast.
I had never heard of Steep Ravine, or its connection with photographer Dorothea Lange, who spent time here with her family in the 50’s and 60’s. (There’s some background on the story and some photos here.) That’s Laura playing the part of Dorothea in the photo above.
The cabins are like little jewels carefully set in the landscape. The mountainside rises up behind the camp, and the cliff drops below. A hillside path leads down to a rocky crescent beach tucked under the cliffs. The waves crashed on the beach all night, filling the quiet with that roar that makes everything feel, look and taste better. The camp is at the end of a narrow road which descends to the site, so you are well off any travelled roads, and sharing the place with a fairly small number of campers. Its a really special place.
It’s only been three weeks but it feels like another life. I’m glad I have the photos or I might feel I’d imagined it all. Thanks to my lovely hosts, big and small, for a wonderful visit.
Mamuji is a term of respect in Urdu for the maternal uncle. When I visited my Uncle Jim in Pakistan in 1993, that’s what people told me I should call him. Two weeks ago, Mamuji died in Pakistan after taking ill a few months ago. I don’t know how to describe what kind of person he was, because no one else was like him. To say he was funny doesn’t do him justice. He was lovable. Robyn posted about him here, and what she says is true. It’s been amazing to hear what everyone has said about him over the last couple of weeks, and to realize that he was that special person to all of us. In some odd way, I feel like he embodied the essence of our extended family, the wire that runs through all our lives and carries on it a pulse of love and common experience.
Here is a lily for Mamuji, and for Brendan who came into the family a year and three days ago, and left it one year ago today. Remembering you both today.
First of all: Laura, I challenge you to a duel! (You — not your mum, of course. I’m not stupid.)
I just can’t help it, I can’t let St. Patrick’s Day pass without marking it in some way. Soda bread is a requirement. Last year, my mum was visiting and we went out for our pint, which is a somewhat recent tradition. I missed that this year.
Should have made it to knit night tonight, but I just finished my Gretel beret and haven’t gotten another project organized yet. Please don’t banish me from the knitting group, just because I don’t produce. I can’t keep up!
So, you don’t want to know what I had for lunch, eh? How about dinner? You think you don’t, but believe me, you do.
But first, let me tell you about the sweet potato-peanut soup. If you are fortunate enough not to have a peanut allergy, this is such an easy and delicious soup to add to your repertoire. I’d love to give you the recipe, but I should probably refrain from any infringement of copyright.
However, just supposing that you were to find yourself in possession of a couple or three good-sized sweet potatoes (or maybe two of those mega-potatoes), a respectable onion, some brown sugar, garlic (do you really need to know how much? I always put in extra as insurance anyway), peanutbutter, cilantro, and some spices (say, coriander and cayenne pepper, and of course salt), then, I’m just saying, you could make a soup quite similar to this one.
Imagine you had some butter, about two tablespoons worth, and you applied heat to this butter in a large pan not unlike a dutch oven. Having chopped your onion, you might feel inclined to saute it, with a teaspoon of brown sugar and one of salt, for about 5 minutes. Oh, what have I here? You say. Garlic, coriander (half tsp) and a wee bit of cayenne. Perfect. I think I’ll cook these in my pan until they are aromatic. 30 seconds later, you might be inspired to add broth (3 to 4 cups — I forgot about that, but I use veggie stock for this), thinly sliced sweet potates, 3 TB peanutbutter, and 2 cups water.
Once you’ve gone that far, you may as well get it boiling, reduce heat, partially cover and cook until you can easily make your sweet potatoes into sweet potato fragments with the implement of your choice.
Here is the part where you would theoretically be so totally psyched if you should happen to have an immersion blender, because all you have to do is blend it in the pan, add S&P to taste, and mix in cilantro at the end. If you don’t you would need to remove it from the pan for blending. So slightly less easy, but not too bad. You will end up with a delicious and beautiful silky smooth orange soup.
If that is too complicated, I would now like to tell you about my nominee for the food with the best ratio of ease to deliciousness. This is actually part of a recipe for udon noodles with ginger squash in a miso broth, which is in fact what I made for dinner. However, the ginger squash is so good it is worth making all by itself.
What you need:
Winter squash such as butternut or buttercup or kabocha, ginger root, oil and salt.
Preheat oven to 375
Peel and slice squash into approximately half-inch thick slices.
Mince 1 tablespoon of ginger
Mix squash, ginger, 1/2 tsp salt, and about 1 tablespoon of oil (or whatever looks good).
Spread in a parchment lined baking dish and bake until squash is tender. It usually takes 20 – 30 minutes and I usually mix it around in the pan part way through. I like it when it gets just a little bit brown and crisp around the edges.
It’s so tasty you’ll eat it like m&m’s.
In my drawing class, our current assignment is to make an artist’s book incorporating drawing. Oh sure, twist my arm! So to begin, I went shopping for some books to alter. I was looking for something small and intimate, with chipboard covers I can work into. I decided on some Little Golden Books.
I found a couple with illustrations I really like. This is a 50’s edition of Heidi. The illustrator is Steffie Lerch.
The top illustration and this one are from a Little Golden Book called Riddles from A to Z, with illustrations by Trina Schart (is it me or do these sound like fake names?). I love these. Okay, no way I am working with this book. This is a keeper, for now at least.
The funny thing is that, looking closely at the Riddles book, you can see that someone got a little crazy on it with a pink crayon. Here I am thinking that I’m so daring altering these books, when the truth is its nothing the crayon set hasn’t been doing for years.
Meanwhile, in sculpture class:
Wood project #1. Made from two 2×4’s and a sheet of plywood. Love having access to the shop. The orbital sander makes me happy.
And an in-class drawing from the bone lab. This is a harbour seal skull. I see a bit of cross-referencing between this and the woodshop critter above.
So school is getting to be a lot of fun. There are also a lot of interesting connections between my museum studies classes and the visual arts classes. It’s like looking at each area from the other side of the fence.
This is a bit of a crunch time, with job searching (my museum job ends at the end of February), making a website for Gary, classes, and work. I’ll see you around when I get a chance!