It is time for my annual channeling of the spirit of Theodore Geisel by honoring the message of The Lorax and saving a few trees ( sending my holiday cheer via pixels vs. pulp). I want you all to know how grateful I am to have you in my life. I feel honored to be sharing this lifetime with all of you. And because there are those more gifted in words than I could ever hope to be, I would like to offer you a photo and this poem by Michael Blumenthal as it conveys, more eloquently, that which I wish to say.
I will be away from this diary and in brief hibernation until January 4th. Until then...here's a link for some printable paper snowflakes as seen in the garland that hangs above our family bed. Just print, fold, snip and enjoy!
May you be well, and happy and full of mischief as I am, or as Satch would say, "Have a good time and try not to break anything".
Peace out,
Wendy
And the Cantilevered Inference Shall Hold the Day by Michael Blumenthal
Things are not as they seem: the innuendo of everything makes
itself felt and trembles towards meanings we never intuited
or dreamed. Take, for example, how the warbler, perched on a
mere branch, can kidnap the day from its tediums and send us
heavenwards, or how, held up by nothing we really see, our
spirits soar and then, in a mysterious series of twists and turns,
come to a safe landing in a field, encircled by greenery. Nothing
I can say to you here can possibly convince you...
but the world as we know
is full of surprises, and the likelihood that here, in the shape
of this very bird, redemption awaits us should not be dismissed
so easily. Each year, days swivel and diminish along their inscrutable
axes, then lengthen again until we are bathed in light we were not
prepared for...
No one who encrusticates (I made that up!) his silliness in a bowl,
waiting for sanctity, can ever know how lovely playfulness can be,
and, that said, let me wish you a Merry One (or Chanukah if you
prefer), and may whatever holds you up stay forever beneath you,
and may the robin find many a worm, and our cruelties abate,
and may you be well and happy and full of mischief as I am,
and may all your nothings, too, hold something up and sing.
Upon a winter's day, how beautiful the shadows are! - Charles Dickens
It's almost time for our annual solstice party wherein we celebrate the return of light! We made lots of paper lanterns for a moonlight walk with the Lilliputians and some peppermint bark for the Brobdingnagians!
We also made these little pouches of seed to sprinkle outside for the woodland creatures.
On Sunday there will be a crock of vegetarian chili with all the fixins, a warm fire, and a houseful of cherished people scattered around this tree.
Speaking of cherished people, have a listen to an excerpt from Karen Maezen Miller's new book. I just adore her...her holey socks...her nubby sweater...her lovely voice...her wit & wisdom!
"And away goes the Tomten on his little feet. In the morning the children see his tracks, a line of tiny footprints in the snow." - Astrid Lindgren
I found these adorable little Tomten ornaments on ebay and decided to buy them to add to our holiday decorations. Each year we try to find an ornament that represents one of Satchel's many loves. And we LOVE the Tomten. It's one of our favorite wintry books. The ornaments come in a pack of four, and one of them has currently taken up resident in the dollhouse as Tomten are wont to do.
In the morning he ran outside in pajamas to catch snowflakes in a bowl. He watched them melt, then drank them. "I was thirsty for snowflakes", he said.
In the afternoon there was a snowball fight, and sledding, and organic hot cocoa.
In the evening there was paneer and dosas by the fireplace.
Papa Bears take note of this boy cub. Give flowers for no reason. No, it was not my husband's idea...it was all my son's idea. The truth is, my little boy has given me more flowers than my husband has in all our years together. I nearly cried when I saw him running up the snowy sidewalk with a bouquet bigger than his head and smile as wide as the sky.
This wee little boy knows the singing reaches of his mama's soul.
Satch loves drawing and writing notes, though he only writes the first few words then tells me the rest of the note. He presented me with this drawing of Arthur, a bat, and our cat.
He said, "I wrote 'Mom, I hope you have a lovely day, but I didn't write the last part". (oh my heart)
Where the katydid works her chromatic reed
on the walnut-tree over the well. - Walt Whitman
Last month Satch found perhaps the last of bit of summer...a rather large, lime green Katydid. He brought it home to the observation tank and filled it with a variety of leaves and a cap full of water. I read that Katydids have a short life span and explained to Satch that this little critter is at the end of its life cycle. However, it's still kickin'...and we keep feeding it fresh greens. The Katydid or Orchelimum means "meadow dancer".
"Soup of the evening, beautiful soup!" - Lewis Carroll
I cannot resist a beautiful bowl of soup. Many, many years ago, a cherished soul gave me a vegetarian cookbook from her favorite vegetarian restaurant. In it, she tucked a 50 dollar bill and wrote, "please make the pea soup and make extra for me". Well, I did...and it was wonderful and so began my slight obsession for yummy vegetarian soups.
Ihad the good fortune to review a new vegetarian cookbook, "Love Soup" by the amazing Anna Thomas!It's everything a soup lubbin' vegetarian could dream of!I madeher "Creamy Potato and Roasted Garlic Soup"and topped it with some slivers of chévre cheese and a small hunk of crusty bread (see photo above). It was sooooo good! What made this soup so special though was the bit of sweet potato which added a lovely color and a hint of sweetness. YUM! Naturally, I just had to chat her up...but first, a video clip!
Mom: Anna Thomas Of: Christopher (25), Ted (24) Where: Ojai, California Site: Vegetarian Epicure
1. In what ways has becoming a mother changed you?That’s a big question, sister! It changes everything. When my first baby was born, an organism (me) divided and became two different organisms – a child, and a mother – neither of which had existed before. We were both, in a way, starting from zero.
Everything was different. I had no time, I couldn’t bear to read the newspaper because of all the violence, my priorities were re-ordered, and my hair was dirty most days. It took me a while to realize it was not a temporary disruption. A dear friend who was already a father sent us a little handmade membership card: on one side, “Parents Club of the World,” on the other, “Life Memberships Only.”
I entered a new world, one in which there was always someone more important than me, and the future was both more exciting and more frightening. Interestingly, the past changed as well; I began to understand my own parents. And now, as my children grow up, I begin to understand more about who I was when I was their age.
But here’s a big one: I’ve become less judgmental. Being a parent makes everything else you ever did look easy. And when you do that job, really do it, you stop judging others, because you know how incredibly tough and complicated things can get. But would I trade it for anything else? No! Never!
2. What message would you like to share with other mothers?Everything is a phase. No matter what the challenge is, what you’re trying to figure out and contend with, it is a phase; it will pass. Not that you get to ignore it – and it’s diabolical the way just when you’ve figured out how to deal with tantrums, that’s no longer the problem and it’s something entirely new and different that you haven’t thought about yet! But it is a phase, and it will eventually play itself out. And you will survive if you remember that.
And never regret an extra moment you spend with your children. You won’t be lying on your deathbed saying, “wish I’d spent just a little more time in the office.” 3. What is your family’s favorite dish?This has changed a lot over the years – when the kids were little they loved rice pudding and breakfast pancakes, and later they adored summer tomato soup and quesadillas and Tortilla Española… But I must admit that the cream cheese pierogi that I make for Christmas Eve, little savory pastries filled with caramelized cabbage or potatoes, are beloved by all, and through all eras. They accompany my Christmas Eve Porcini Soup – a recipe I included in Love Soup, even though it can be a bit of work to find porcini, because that soup is so amazingly delicious, and such a family tradition. I think it’s in our DNA, the Polish side.
4. What inspired you to write Love Soup?
This goes back a long way! I have always cooked soups, but when my first baby was born soup became even more important. All the years that I was raising my children, when everybody seemed hungry all the time and there was never an extra moment, having a pot of soup in the fridge really was like money in the bank.But then the children grew up and moved out, and I moved, too, downsized in a major way. I was doing a major remodel – a re-build, actually – and was temporarily living in a converted painter’s studio. I put in a teeny, tiny little kitchen under the stairs to the sleeping loft, which I thought would be just dandy for the few months of construction.
You can see where this is going, right? Three years later, I was still in the 81-inch kitchen. And during that time – I was cooking soup, soup, and more soup! It was the food that saved me, allowed me to continue to eat well, to cook seasonal produce without needing a lot of equipment (which was all packed away), to have friends over for casual suppers…A good pot of soup is like a magnet, people just naturally bring the bread and olives and cheese and wine that go with it. Those seasons of soup in the wee kitchen showed me that no space is too small for cooking, or for sharing food with friends. I fell in love with soup all over again - and decided I had to write about it. The whole book was written in that not-so-temporary kitchen! 5. What moves you, grounds you, fills your well?
Two things have always filled me with lasting joy: the true experience of art, and the far, wild reaches of the natural world. I would travel a long way for a good opera, or to see a great painting. Real art never lets you down. And hiking in the mountains is my daily blessing. I live where I live, and drive longer distances for work, so that I can see the mountains out my window, and walk the trails into them any time. For my 50th birthday I climbed Mount Whitney with a couple of girlfriends. I’ve called on that experience many times. Experiencing these things in the companionship of family or good friends has always been my spiritual nourishment.
When I had children, I shared the things I loved with them: art, the beauty of nature, the comradeship of close friends – and I watched them discover the world. And later – the most moving thing of all: seeing my children make art.
*This diary entry is dedicated to Ida May Mahler...When making a bowl of soup, when climbing a tree with my son...you come to mind. Loved, missed and always remembered.
Location: NYC roots, now blooming in Northern Virginia, United States
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Mother, Artist, Biophiliac,Vegetarian, Joyologist, VA Master Naturalist, CCMA
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CONTACT: wendy(at)wendycook(dotcom)
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This is my JOURNAL. I come to this page to write about our days so that my son will have a diary of our life together. Perhaps you will find something useful here as you navigate the terrain of your own path. ...........................................
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"To laugh often and much;
To win the respect of intelligent people
and the affection of children;
To earn the appreciation of honest critics
and endure the betrayal of false friends;
To appreciate beauty...
To leave the world a bit better,
whether by a healthy child,
a garden patch
or a redeemed social condition."