Louisiana – Page 2

Simple Gifts

Beware the barrenness of a busy life. ~ Socrates

Three weeks ‘on the go’. Fun-filled adventures.

In the time I’ve missed the quiet, the camera click, waiting for a sunset, resting in ‘the moment’, simple moments with friends and family. Autumn reminds of me that. A homecoming of sorts. Time to settle in and nest. During the summer I made hard choices about future projects. The autumn ran away with those choices like a race horse. I allowed it.

Last weekend I traveled to my hometown for the first time since July. It’s good to touch base with those people who share collective memories, love you no matter what. Driving back, my thoughts drifted to the idea of unconditional love…. my parents, family, dear friends, my children.

I can only hope that I’ve been as generous and accepting with those special people in my life….my family, friends and students. . . and beyond.

The road leads us many ways in a busy life…some days the path is straight, some days…not so much….the gift is finding the simple way and loving through it.

First you make a roux….

A good base. Any good cook knows it’s the foundation. Parents and teachers too.

Last Sunday morning was the first really cool day we’ve had in South Louisiana. Gumbo weather. I couldn’t wait to hit the kitchen. To me, making gumbo is a spiritual experience. It keeps me ‘in the moment’. Reminds me of where I came from, where I am, where I’m going. Well, like I said….it starts with a base….’first you make a roux’.

I didn’t realize until I moved to South Louisiana but gumbos vary by regions. My mother’s family came from Mobile. Questions about using tomato (I don’t) or okra (I do) never occurred to me. My mother and grandmother never used a recipe. I learned from them. I still use my mother’s ‘roux pot’.

The first gumbo has become an October tradition just as surely as the smell of sweet olive on a crisp afternoon or selecting the perfect pumpkin. I make gumbo throughout the year but there’s something about that first one on the first cool snap….feels like home….

Wednesday my daughter texted, asking for the recipe for ‘Campfire Stew’. Another family and Girl Scout tradition. The week had been filled with ups and downs but those moments had nourished my spirit. Today I’m making Campfire Stew. It’s not over an open flame like we did when I was a Girl Scout with my friend, Leslie or as a leader with my daughter…or camping with my kids….but in the cooking I’m linking all of those together….yesterday, today….and a promise for tomorrow…..

October….

Yes, “first you make a roux”…then you sit back and enjoy….feels like home…

Satisfied

“Satisfied!”

This week I was reminded of my grandfather. He’s been on my mind since the summer. A man who’s simple approach to life, wisdom and humor served him and his family well during the Great Depression, two World Wars. He was never at a loss. Anytime you asked him how things were or how he was….his reply?

Satisfied.

I was in Boston a few months back helping my daughter with a film project she was finishing. It had been relaxing time cooking for these creative artists, their lives filled with promise. During the days there I thought about how grateful I was for the resources and time my parents and grandparents had invested in me and my brothers. I hoped they knew how much we appreciated their generous spirit. We always had what we needed and then some. We were given opportunities to explore and develop our talents. The story of our lives were written by love and hard work.

On my last day I saw one of the sets for the first time and got my answer.

The room was wall-papered in pages from an old dictionary…..on the desk of the vintage-style room was an antique typewriter not unlike one I had in my closet at home, an heirloom from my grandfather. When I went back to take a picture….the typewriter had been moved for another shot but I was……

Satisfied.

Too often today we’re looking for magic, highs, eternal youth or for what might be…. instead of being

Satisfied.

with what is….

My grandfather was an adventurer..through books and people. His life experiences led him from days of horse and buggy to seeing a man walk on the moon. He was not a well-educated man yet the wisest man I’ve ever met. He knew the value of everything, including a handshake and the warmth of the sun on your face. He was not unique in his generation.

Satisfied.

I look at my own family. Two adult ‘children’ who are content in their lives. I remind myself that my parents and grandparent walked similar roads. Theirs were different times, perhaps…..but in this…..we are the same….

Satisfied.

Simple Joys

I am still determined to be cheerful and happy, in whatever situation I may be; for I have also learned from experience that the greater part of our happiness or misery depends upon our dispositions, and not upon our circumstances.

Martha Washington

I woke up this morning to two of my favorite things. Neither one can be captured on film: the first cool autumn day and the smell of barbecue cooking. Simple joys.

Coffee was made. I went outside to breathe it all in. Autumn air mixed with the fragrance of the barbecue wafting from across the street. A church event later today. They had been cooking all night. Simple joys.

Twice this week I was asked how I thought people our parents and grandparents generation were able to handle their affairs with such grace. They were faced with war, financial crisis…all sorts of issues but never seemed to make it into the ‘hot mess’ that we do. Theirs were generations of private people. I understand the balance of that…

….they valued family and friends, saw work as a part of life. Embraced growing older. Each simple joys.

This morning, autumn’s hangs a welcome sign…. a simple joy. . . for my time and all time.

Strike

It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.

C.S. Lewis

Character building. Strike.

The last month was lovely, spending time with family, friends…in person or via technology.Work had been rewarding and productive. Life was content and settled. There had been moments for gratitude.

The production of As You Like It went well—those young actors worked hard and were some of the most professional and dedicated people I’ve had the pleasure of working with. Strike. After the final performance everyone takes part in tearing down the set, a community they’ve built together for weeks. It’s called strike. . . so we can load-in the next play. Life in the theatre is always moving forward.

Strike.

Opening Night, driving home from the theatre….early evening….it is abridged Shakespeare after all…I was in the first significant auto accident of my life. Rear-ended by another car who was driving at a high rate of speed. Rattled. Shaken. Strike.

So very grateful…that although there were minor injuries, people walked away….grateful for the love and support of family and friends far and near. After following doctors orders to rest, it was good to be back teaching the latter part of this week…to sing….. It’s easy to take people and a mundane thing like going to work for granted.

Strike.

Kindness of strangers: the “witnesses” who stayed with me. James, the salesman at the car dealership. The reality of everything set in while in his office. He reminded me how lucky I was. He and my son had me laughing…..I like to laugh. I chucked about transforming experiences from the past. No situation in life….good, bad or indifferent is permanent. Take-away….find a solution and strike. Move forward…..

I like that egg in the C. S. Lewis story.

Strike.

An ordinary egg . . .making a choice…to either hatch or go bad….

Me….I’m choosing to hatch….

Strike! Move on……with gratitude…..

Coq au Vin with Julia and others

Sundays. I have always loved the rhythm of Sundays. Quiet peace. They were special growing up. I tried to make them that way for my children.

My mother cooked Sunday dinner or in summer we’d visit my grandparents. Nurturing through food. It’s part of why I like to cook. Cooking is not a chore but a creative art. The smells remind me of home. Monroe and my children. Happy memories. I process when I cook. Yes the past is a part of that but planning for the future. Relaxation especially on a rainy day like today. There was always music playing in mother’s kitchen….I follow suit.

I started cooking for myself a few years back once the kids left and enjoyed it. . . but I stopped. It seemed indulgent. It didn’t occur to me that I could still do that for myself until a few weeks ago visiting my daughter in Boston. . . so last Sunday and today….I pulled out cookbooks, music and cooked. Foods I enjoy preparing, will last the week. Rediscovering this joy has centered my life….just like photography has. And certainly saved money and calories….

Thanks Julia Child for this advice. In life and the kitchen. The only real stumbling block is fear of failure. In cooking you’ve got to have a what-the-hell attitude.

Today’s endeavor: Coq au vin. One of the first fancy dishes I ever prepared. I remember cooking it from my mother’s Julia Child cookbook. This one is from a special cookbook sent by my best friend since kindergarten. As I cook I thought about life’s relationships. Then I thought how friendships are built through theater….some are temporary, just for the run of the show…or a few shows…. some are for the long haul. Just like the ingredients in the coq au vin, these relationships are all crucial to the outcome of the dish. I’m that coq au vin….. . . how lucky and grateful I am to have so many and varied ingredients in my life… near and far…

Cooking is all about patience, creativity and staying positive! Thank heaven I’ve had that in my life….and that life still tastes really good at this age!