children – Page 3

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…

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!

Priceless

August has slipped through my fingers like quicksilver.

Summer’s blooms fade into the rhythm of schedules and commitments as I find reminders of the sweet carefree days, a lovely summer —- varied, calm….calling me to change.

A few more days before packing away white shoes and linen.

Certainly, August is always busy with school starting. The last few weeks I had an opportunity to act in a new play. It was nice remembering that kind of trust. . . in myself and others. Humility. Vulnerable. It’s good to tap those.

Last week I was out of town. Serendipity. Craft services—cooking while my daughter directed her Thesis film. The quiet while I was preparing the meals was good for the soul. The camaraderie during meals and on set was good for the heart. I returned home tired but replenished….and very proud. Certainly seeing my daughter’s artistic vision come to reality was cause for pride. . . but greater still is knowing the kind of people she and my son have become.

Priceless. The word I use to describe the time I spent. The weather was cool and crisp. I cooked all my favorites: gumbo, jambalaya, red beans and rice….meals I’ve made for decades and prepare well. Cuisine taught to me by my mother and grandmother. Outside the kitchen door there was a beautiful vine with grapes. Scenic. I realized when I got to the airport Sunday that those grapes are like many things along life’s journey, something saved in a memory bank and not on a photograph. It’s almost better that way.

This is an excerpt of something I found in my inbox Monday morning…from Ron Rolheiser: “We need more and more to trust love and surrender, to let go of ourselves, especially of our pride, our wounds, our hurts, our mistakes, our past, and our weaknesses, to give ourselves over to forgiveness……Morris West said that at a certain age, it should come down to one word: “Thanks!” He’s right, but to say that one word and mean it we need three other words: “Forgiveness, forgiveness, forgiveness!”

Just like the rest of August, it had perfect timing….was priceless.

The One Thing

Wednesday night was filled with excitement. Bittersweet.

Goodbye summer. Hello new school year.

To relax, I went swimming Wednesday night with some girlfriends. Over the course of the summer we’ve seen Canadian geese and owls. Wednesday night there was a rainbow…..and bats. I scampered out of the pool to capture the shot but the moment was gone. Life’s like that sometimes. Special moments flash before our eyes in an instant. We think we’ll have all the time in the world to ‘roll around in them’. . .but before we know it…they’re gone. POOF! No warning.

Thursday. The first day of school. I’ve been blessed to serve…yes, SERVE…as a music and drama specialist for many years at a phenomenal school. A place that is ‘home’ for students and faculty alike. Thursday was particularly good. On those particularly good days…. there’s gratitude for my parents, family and friends.

At the end of the day, the house was quiet. It was welcome on such a busy day. I let it wash over me, thinking of the people I would’ve/could’ve called but stayed in the quiet. Not long after I sat on the sofa an UPS truck pulled up bringing with him a reminder of my forever home and family.

The ‘rules’ of life can be VERY sticky. I’ve made them that way and didn’t see the thorns.

One of my favorite teachers used to say: “Excuses are like armpits, they all stink.” Over the last few years I’ve been grateful to have the opportunity to change the rules, reacquaint with old friends. The friendships were waiting. Frozen in time, then moved forward.

Maybe I needed to get to this age to find THE ONE rule. LOVE!

With apologies to St. Paul.

Who can

separate us from love? Tribulation, distress, famine, war….death or life…things of the past, present things or things to come…..none of these things can separate us…..

The ONE THING. For this I am grateful.

The Joy of July

I’ve looked forward to the languid days of July for months. Plans of quiet days and rest. Plans for reunion and homecoming.

Last Saturday, my car filled with memories of two little girls riding bicycles in the streets until dark, singing songs until we were hoarse and playing Barbie’s and ‘dress up’…. I drove to my north Louisiana hometown to visit my childhood friend. There, I rediscovered my “blood sister”… ‘family’. The journey has been long but well-worth the wait. The bonds run very deep. There is always enough. Enough love. Enough joy. Enough time….to share…..and like the fruits of July…… it multiplies.

I’m so very grateful for second chances…for each second chance…..for friendship….

For the joy of July…..

Wisdom Journey

Saturday was the Summer Solstice. A time to renew, refresh, reinvent. Within. Around. Remembering that in doing and not doing there is joy. Sometimes it takes a while to discover the rhythm but once found the cadence of summer is sweet .

Joseph Campbell called it ‘following your bliss’. I rediscovered those delightful days last summer— along with this poem by Rainer Maria Rilke. . http://intoitevents.com/2014/05/29/like-a-river/

“May what I do flow from me like a river, no forcing and no holding back.”

This summer I’ve remembered the flow of that river with ‘no forcing or holding back’, ‘the song as no one ever has’. The discovery that we each compose our own song is sweet and freeing.

Not that I hadn’t been true to the journey….sometimes there’s a detour, a bend in the river….. a flat tire….

I once thought to be true to myself meant embracing the world with a wide-eyed, über-enthusiastic grasp. Doing EVERYTHING with such passion. Now I believe it’s wiser-eyed enthusiasm. A passionate calm. Making wise choices about time, talent, treasure. Friends. Family. Sometimes easier said than done on the journey.

I was reminded of a personal anecdote last week. At age four I walked seven blocks to my grandparents house without my parents permission or knowledge. My parents thought I was lost, missing. The family story goes that when I was asked how I got there I answered: “On my own two yegs“. Was the act independent and fearless or disobedient, I don’t remember. I’ve thought about that little girl; the courage to take that seven block journey, other life journeys.

Yes, summer is quiet. A time of wisdom. Standing at the door….ready and waiting….. on my ‘on two yegs’.

For Now

The last week of school. A week teachers look forward to. I suppose I have too: Time off to rest and recuperate before heading back to the ‘dance’ in August. This year has been a full one: professionally and personally. Reconnected. Reconciled. Beginning with myself then moving to others. The dance has been slow, steady but lovely.

Since last May I have been reminded that…..

Even good-intentioned people and situations have ‘danger, danger Will Robinson’ times. In those times, a generous, inquisitive spirit is needed.

Forgiveness does not equal acceptance.

It’s perfectly okay to walk away from a situation. Being around negativity is….well, a downer.

Friends and family…..there’s nothing like them. Remind them how much you love them. Nothing has to be extravagant except love.

Find something you enjoy. A passion. You are NEVER too old to learn something new or to remember something you once knew.

Spending quality time with friends and family is important but spending time with YOURSELF is grounding.

Sleep well. Eat well. Move well. Simplify.

Find ‘a purpose’ each day….something to be grateful for. Some days are more challenging than others. We’re human. We miss people. We get angry, frustrated, tired. The ‘purpose’ may be hidden but it’s there waiting…..sometimes right around the next corner. Like magic, it appears out of nowhere.

Friends, family, sunsets, adventures, the aroma of the magnolias when you walk out the door in the evening. Enjoy. Be grateful. Savor life.

Dance!! “For now!”

“The Tea Girls”

The first week of May.

Quite frankly, my head has been spinning about what to write. Motherhood. Children. Rites of passage. Joy. Gratitude. . . for mothers and children, school years ending and summers beginning, friends and family and forgiveness…..

Song a May Morning

I recently read an on-line story that the best Mother’s Day gifts involved leaving mom alone. Admittedly when my children were very small quiet, some occasional alone-time might have been very welcome. Sleep was a rare commodity. Spending quality time with other adults, girl-friends was cherished.

I’ve been blessed to have remarkable friends throughout my life. Male and Female. There are no time limits, labels or geography when it comes to those kind of friends. I have a friend who says: “time stands still on those kind of friendships.” She’s right.

When I first relocated to Baton Rouge, my children were young I joined a ‘play group’ with four other young mothers. We met at first on Tuesdays, then eventually branched out….sharing everything from swimming lessons to understanding what happened at the pediatrician to First Communions. Growing Up. Starting school. We were all ‘transplants’, none of us had local family so it was nice knowing there was a safety net of friends.

It became the custom for our group to go to High Tea on the Saturday before Mother’s Day. Clotted cream, lemon curd, scones….a May tradition. Looking back, we started as young mothers going to ‘play dates’ and transformed into the ‘The Tea Girls’, a diverse yet supportive group of friends. During ‘teas’ we shared our hopes and dreams for the future. Clearly being a mother was the most important work any of us would do…..will ever do….but as creative individuals we had the support of each other to ‘bounce’ ideas: What about this business venture? What about grad school?

In the twenty- five plus years since we became friends some of us have moved to other cities, divorced, remarried, seen our own children get married. We have supported each other through the loss of parents and illness within the group. Friends, good friends, keep us grounded and healthy. They are a mirror for our soul. This group was that.

There is little doubt in my mind that much of the credit for my success as a mother came from the example of my own mother. If Yvonne was gently whispering in one ear, I was lucky enough to have “The Tea Girls” whispering in the other. I’m grateful for both pieces of wisdom and for the Saturday before Mother’s Day….

Today, as we honor mothers I’ll be nibbling on scones and lifting my cup…to My Mother….to Your Mother….”Tea Girls”everywhere…..and to the children they raised…..