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Here are the tastingspoons players. I’m in the middle (Carolyn). Daughter Sara on the right, and daughter-in-law Karen on the left. I started the blog in 2007, as a way to share recipes with my family. Now in 2023, I’m still doing 99% of the blogging and holding out hope that these two lovely and excellent cooks will participate. They both lead very busy lives, so we’ll see.

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BOOK READING (from Carolyn):

Under the Java Moon, by Heather Moore. Sometimes these WWII books are tough to read. This is a true story (written as fiction, though) about a few Dutch families who are taken prisoner on Java Island, by the Japanese. Certainly it’s a story about unbelievable deprivation and sadness, but also about resilience too. Not everyone survives, as you could guess, but you’ll be rooting for young Rita who takes on so many responsibilities far beyond her 6-year old’s abilities. I read this because a dear friend of mine’s husband (now deceased) was in the Army during WWII and spent a lot of his duty in Indonesia and had horrific stories to tell about the weather and environment (awful!). A period of his life he liked to forget. The book certainly brings that period and place to the forefront. I’m glad I read it.

Never in a million years would I have picked up Blind Your Ponies, by Stanley Gordon West. If I’d read the cover or flap that the bulk of the story is about basketball, I’d have put it back on the shelf. But oh, this book is – yes, about basketball, but it’s about a place in time in Montana, a few decades ago, when a tiny town supported their high school team. It’s about a dream. About the town who believed in them. About a tall young man who comes to lives in the town, and his deliverance, really, from a pretty awful background as he plays basketball, when he’d never played before. It’s about relationships, marriages, families and about how this little team makes it. Such a great story and SO glad I read it.

A Girl Called Samson, by Amy Harmon. I’m a fan of anything written by Harmon, and this one delivered as all her books do. 1760, Massachusetts. Deborah Samson is an indentured servant but yearns for independence. From being a rather tall, skinny kid (a girl) to faking it as a young soldier (a young man) in the Continental army. You’ll marvel at her ability to hide her true self. It’s quite a story. She’s thrown into the worst of situations in the war and comes through with flying colors. You’ll find yourself rooting for her and also fearing mightily that she’s going to either get killed, or be “found out,” by some of the men. Riveting story beginning to end. There’s a love interest here too which is very sweet.

On Mystic Lake, by Kristin Hannah. This is a book Hannah wrote some years ago, and tells the story of a woman, Annie, who finds out (on the day their daughter goes off to a foreign land for an exchange quarter) that her husband is in love with another woman and leaves her. Annie, who has been the quintessential perfect corporate wife, is devastated. She felt blind-sided. She cries and wallows, but eventually she returns home to her small town, where her widowed dad lives, in Washington. There she runs into many people she knew and at first feels very out of place. Slowly, she finds the town more welcoming and she helps a previous boyfriend, now widowed with his young daughter. A connection is there. Annie has to find herself, and she definitely does that. Her husband rears his head (of course he does!) after several months, and Annie has to figure out what to do. I don’t want to give away the story. Lots of twists and turns.

The Vineyard, by Barbara Delinsky. A novel with many current day issues. Husband and wife own a vineyard in Rhode Island. Husband dies. Widow soon (too soon) marries the manager, a hired employee, much to the consternation of her two grown children. Widow hires woman as personal assistant (much of the book comes from her voice) and she gets entangled into the many webs, clinging from the many decades the winery has tried to be successful. Really interesting. Lots of plot twists, but all revolving around work of the vineyard. Cute love story too. It wouldn’t be a Delinsky book without that aspect.

Consequences, Penelope Lively. I’ve always loved this author’s writing style. Have read many of her books. This one follows a rather dotted line family, the women, as they grow through worn-torn London and England. There’s poverty and both major events and minor ones that send the story’s trajectory in new directions. Riveting for me. Lively won the Booker Prize for Moon Tiger, her most famous book.

Below Zero, C.J. Box. Mystery of the first order. A Joe Pickett novel (he’s a game warden in Wyoming) with a family member thought dead is suddenly alive. Or is she? Joe’s on the hunt to find out. I don’t read these books at night – too scary. I love his books, though.

Consolations of the Forest: Alone in a Cabin on the Siberian Taiga, by Sylvain Tesson. I’m not sure what possessed me to read this book. About a late 30s guy who seems to crave solitude; he’s offered a 11×11 cabin in the cold/frozen Siberian outback, on a huge lake that freezes over in winter. Here’s a quote from the book: “A visit to my wooden crates. My supplies are dwindling. I have enough pasta left for a month and Tabasco to drench it in. I have flour, tea and oil. I’m low on coffee. As for vodka, I should make it to the end of April.” Vodka plays large in this book. Tesson (who is French, with Russian heritage) is a gifted writer, about the wilderness, the flora and fauna, about the alone-ness, the introspection. Mostly he ate pasta with Tabasco. No other sauce. Many shots of vodka every day. Drunkenness plays a serious role too – what else is there to do, you might ask? He lived there for about a year. I’d have lasted a week, no more.

The Auburn Conference by Tom Piazza. Another one, given my druthers I’m not sure I’d have picked up. For one of my book clubs. Excellent writing. 1883, upstate NY. A young professor decides to make a name for himself and puts on an event, inviting many literary luminaries of the day (Mark Twain, Frederick Douglass, Herman Melville, Forrest Taylor and a romance novelist [the outlier] Lucy Comstock). Part panel discussion, part private conversations, the author weaves a tale of discord, some moderate yelling, some rascism and much ridicule of the romance novelist. Also some words of wisdom, maybe not from the authors you’d have expected. Unusual book.

As Bright as Heaven, by Susan Meissner. 1918. Philadelphia. About a young family arriving with the highest of hopes. Then the Spanish Flu hits and dashes everything. You’ll learn a whole lot about that particular virulent flu and the tragic aftermath. Really good read.

Hour of the Witch, by Chris Bohjalian. Boston, 1662. A young woman becomes the 2nd wife of a powerful man, a cruel man. She determines to leave him, something just “not done” back then. Twists and turns, she’s accused of being a witch. Story of survival, and a redeeming love too.

My Oxford Year, by Julia Whelan. At 24, a young woman is honored with a Rhodes Scholarship to Oxford. She’s older than most of her fellow classmates, and as an American, doesn’t fit in very well. She’s left a good job back home, but determines to try to work some for the political campaign job she’s left, and also do the work for her Oxford scholarship. She meets a professor. Oh my. Such an interesting book. I loved learning about the culture of Oxford, and there’s a fascinating romance too, somewhat a forbidden one with said professor.

Madame Pommery, by Rebecca Rosenberg. I love champagne. Have read a number of books over the years (novels) about the region (and I’ve visited there once). This is real history, though in a novelized form. Madame Pommery was widowed, and determined she would blaze a trail that was not well received (no women in the champagne business for starters). And she decides to make a different, less sweet version. She’s hated and reviled, but sticks to her guns, veering away from the then very sweet version all the winemakers were producing. Fascinating story.

The Wager, by David Grann. A true tale of shipwreck, mutiny and murder back in the 1740s. Not exactly my usual genre of reading, but once I heard about the book, I decided I needed to read it. This is a novelized version of the story, based on the facts of an English shipwreck, first off Brazil, then later off Chile. Of the men, their struggle to survive (and many didn’t). Yes, there’s murder involved, and yes, there’s mutiny as well. Those who survived stood trial back in England many years later. Riveting read.

Before We Were Yours, by Lisa Wingate. 1939. A shantyboat in the backwaters of the Mississippi River. A 12-year old girl is left to care for her younger siblings when her mother is taken ill. A mystery ensues, and soon officials chase these youngsters to take them into an orphanage, one that became infamous for “selling” the children, weaving wild tales of their provenance. Dual timeline, you read about a successful young attorney who returns home to help her father, and questions come up about the family history. Fascinating read. You’ll learn about this real abominable woman, Georgia Tann, who profited by her “sales.”

The Vaster Wilds, by Lauren Goff. This tells the story of a young servant girl, in the aftermath of the starvation in Jamestown, the beleaguered town that virtually disappeared because the people weren’t prepared for the harshness of survival in those days. She escapes before the demise of the town and heads west, with nothing but the clothes she’s wearing. She survives longer than you might think, and encounters a lot of interesting experiences and people. Very interesting historical read.

Lady Tan’s Circle of Woman, Lisa See. Historical fiction, from 1469, Ming Dynasty, China. Based on the true story, however, about a young woman mostly raised by her grandmother who is a well known physician. Her grandfather is a scholarly physician, her grandmother, more an herbalist, or like a pharmacist of the day. Tan eventually marries into a family and is immediately subjugated by the matriarch, who won’t allow her to practice any of her healing arts. Quite a story, and also about how she eventually does treat women (women “doctors” were only allowed to treat women) as a midwife and herbalist. You’ll learn a whole lot about the use of flowers and herbs for healing and about the four humors.

Winter Garden, by Kristen Hannah. Quite a story, taking place in Washington State with apple orchards forming a backdrop and family business. Two sisters, never much friends even when they were young, return home to help care for their ailing father. Their mother? What an enigma. She took no part in raising them, yet she lived in the home. She cooked for the family, but rarely interacted. Yet her father adored his wife, their mother. How do they bridge the gulf between each other and also with their mother. Another page turner from Kristen Hannah.

Trail of the Lost, by Andrea Lankford. Not my usual genre. This is nonfiction, about Lankford who has plenty of credentials for rescue services, and is an avid hiker herself, determines to try to find some missing people who have disappeared off the face of the earth on the Pacific Crest Trail. It’s about how rescues work, everything from the disconnect between active citizens who want to help, and seemingly the unwillingness of authorities to share information. Not exactly a positive for law enforcement in this book. Really fascinating. There are hundreds of people who have disappeared off various long hike trails in the U.S. This is about four who were hiking (separately and at different times) on the PCT.

Tomorrow, Tomorrow and Tomorrow, by Gabrielle Zevin. I’ve never been a “gamer.” Not by any standard definition, anyway. Not like people who really get into games, adventure, killers, etc. And this book isn’t a game .. . but it’s a novel (and a great story, I might add) about how these games come into being. How they’re invented, how they morph. First there were two college students, then a third person is added, and they end up creating a wildly popular game. A company is born. And it goes from there. Mostly it’s about the people, their relationships, but set amidst the work of creating and running a gaming company. Not all fun and games, pun intended.

Remarkably Bright Creatures, by Shelby Van Pelt. Oh gosh, what a fabulous book. It’s a novel; however, much of the story is about the intelligence of octopus. In particular this one, Marcellus, who lives in an aquarium in a fictitious town in western Washington State. More than anything the book is about relationships, not only Marcellus with a woman (of a certain age) who cleans the aquarium at night, but the various people in this small town.

Trust, by Herman Diaz. This novel is an enigma in so many ways. It’s a book, within a book, within a book. About the stock market crash back in 1929, but it’s about a man. Oh my. It’s really interesting. This book won the Pulitzer. That’s why I bought it.

Cassidy Hutchinson is a young woman (a real one) who works in politics or “government.” She’s worked for some prestigious Washington politicians, and ended up working for Trump. The book is a memoir of her short spin working at the highest levels, and obviously at the White House. She worked under Mark Meadows and suffered a lot of ridicule when she quit. Truth and lies . . . when she couldn’t live with herself and subvert the truth. Enough, gives you plenty of detail leading up to and after the January 6th uprising. She testified to Congress about what she knew. Really interesting. I almost never read books about politics because I think many (most?) of our elected politicians succumb to the lure of power and forget who they work for, us, the public.

Becoming Dr. Q, by Alfredo Quiñones-Hinojosa, MD, is an Associate Professor of Neurosurgery and Oncology at Johns Hopkins University. This is his memoir about how he went from being a penniless migrant from Mexico to one of the world’s most renowned experts in brain tumors.

The Invincible Miss Cust, by Penny Haw.  In 1868 Ireland, a woman wasn’t allowed to attend veterinary school, much less become a veterinarian. It took  years of trying (to the horror of her aristocratic family) and finally someone took her under their wing, she enrolled using a pseudonym (a name not revealing her gender). This is a true story of Aleen Isabel Cust, who did just that.

Her Heart for a Compass, by Sarah Ferguson (yes), the Duchess of York. I was pleasantly surprised as I read this book that it wasn’t the usual romantic romp – there’s more to this story than you might think. Ferguson utilizes some of her family ancestors as real characters in the book. Sweet story but with lots of twists and turns.

Someone Else’s Shoes, by Jojo Moyes.Nisha, our heroine, is a wealthy socialite. She thinks her life is perfect. At the gym someone else grabs her gym bag, so she grabs the similar one. Then she finds out her husband is leaving her and he’s locked her out of their high-rise apartment. She’s penniless. No attorney will take her on. She has nothing but this gym bag belonging to someone else (who?).

The Eleventh Man, Ivan Doig. What a story. Ben, part of a Montana college football team in the 1940s, joins the service during WWII. So do all of his eleven teammates. After suffering some injuries in pilot training he is recruited by a stealthy military propaganda machine. His job is to write articles about his teammates as they are picked off at various battle theaters around the Pacific and Europe. Ben goes there, in person, to fuel the stories. Ivan Doig is a crafty writer; I’ve read several of his books, my favorite being The Whistling Season.

Wavewalker, by Suzanne Heywood. Oh my goodness. A memoir about a very young English girl who goes off with her besotted and narcissistic parents and her brother on a years-long sailing journey supposedly following the route of James Cook. A very old, decrepit 70-foot schooner. Four people, 2 sort-of adults and 2 children. Sometimes a helper or two. A seasick mother. A dad who is driven to the extreme, whatever the damage he creates. She spent 10 years aboard.

Claire Keegan wrote Small Things Like These. It’s won a lot of awards, and shortlisted for the Booker Prize. Takes place in Ireland. Some profound questions come up in this novella, about complicity, about restitution. There’s a convent nearby, and attached one of those places young girls were sent if they found themselves “in the family way,” and about how the church helped, supposedly, by taking the children and placing them in homes, without consent. It’s ugly, the truth of the matter. Really good read.

Nicholas Sparks isn’t an author I read very often because his books are pretty sappy, but daughter Sara recommended this one, The Longest Ride. It begins with Ira (age 93), stuck in his car as it plunges off the edge of a road, and it’s snowing. As the hours tick by, he reminisces about his life.

The Neuroscientist Who Lost Her Mind, by Barbara Lipska. Interesting that I’ve read two books recently about the brain (see Doctor Q above). This is a true story about a woman, a neuroscientist, who developed a metastatic melanoma in the brain.

The Price of Inheritance, by Karin Tanabe. This is a mystery, of sorts. Our heroine is an up and coming employee at Christie’s (auction house). In bringing a large collection of expensive art to auction, she makes a misstep about the provenance of a desk. She’s fired. She goes back to her roots, takes a job at a small antique store where she used to work.

The Covenant of Water, by Abraham Verghese. Did you read Cutting for Stone, years ago, by this author? Such a good book, so I knew I’d enjoy this one, and oh, did I!. The book takes place in a little known area of southern India, and chronicles a variety of people over a few generations, who inhabit the place.

Finding Dorothy, by Elizabeth Letts. My friend Dianne recommended this book to me, and it was so special. Loved it beginning to end. It’s based on the story of 77-year old Maud Gage Baum (her husband Frank Baum wrote The Wizard of Oz).

The Bandit Queens, by Parini Shroff. It’s about a young Indian woman, Geeta, as she tries her best to make a living after her husband leaves her. Yet the community she lives in, thinks Geeta murdered him.

Attribution, by Linda Moore. We follow art historian Cate, as she struggles to succeed in her chosen field against sexist advisors. She finds what she thinks is a hidden painting.

The Measure, Nikki Erlick. Oh my goodness. This story grabbed me from about the third sentence. Everyone in the world finds a wooden box on their doorstep, or in front of their camper or tent, that contains a string. Nothing but a string. The author has a vivid imagination (I admire that) and you just will not believe the various reactions (frenzy?) from people who are short-stringers, or long-stringers.

The Book Spy by Alan Hlad. True stories, but in novel form, of a special Axis group of men and women librarians and microfilm specialists, sent to strategic locations in Europe to acquire and scour newspapers, books, technical manuals and periodicals, for information about German troop locations, weaponry and military plans of WWII. I was glued to the book beginning to end. Fascinating accounts.

A Dangerous Business, Jane Smiley. What a story. 1850s gold rush, story of two young prostitutes, finding their way in a lawless town in the Wild West. There’s a murder, or two, or three, or some of the town’s prostitutes, and the two women set out to solve the crime.

Storm Watch, by C. J. Box. I’m such a fan of his tales of Wyoming Game Warden Joe Pickett’s adventures catching criminals. Loved it, just like I’ve loved every one of his books.

Defiant Dreams, by Sola Mahfouz. True story about the author, born in Afghanistan in 1996. This is about her journey to acquire an education. It’s unbelievable what the Taliban does to deter and forbid women from bettering themselves.

Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh. This is fairly light read, a novel – but interesting, about the meaning behind many flowers.

The Rome Apartment, by Kerry Fisher. Such a cute story. Maybe not an interesting read for a man. It’s about Beth, whose husband has just left her, and her daughter has just gone off to college. Beth needs a new lease on life, so she rents a room from a woman who lives in Rome.

All the Beauty in the World, a memoir by Patrick Bringley. Absolutely LOVED this book. Bringley was at loose ends and accepted a job as a guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NYC. He’d been a journalist at The New Yorker magazine, but after his brother was ill and died, he needed refreshing. After his training at the museum, he moves from room to room, guarding the precious art, and learning all about the pieces and the painters or sculptors.

The Queen’s Lady, by Joanna Hickson. I love stories about Tudor England, and this one didn’t disappoint. Joan Guildford is a lady in waiting to Queen Elizabeth. Oh my goodness are there twists and turns.

Once in awhile I’m ready to read another Louise Penny mystery. This time it was World of Curiosities. Usually I’d write something wonderful regarding “another tome about Three Pines.” Not going to say it this time. Three Pines becomes a sinister place. Murders (many).

Over the years I’ve read many of Jodi Picoult’s books. This, her newest, or very new, is called Mad Honey. Oh, my. This book is beyond Picoult’s usual borders, but then she always writes edgy books. That’s her genre. This one is written with a co-author, a woman who is gay (I think) and also a trans-gender.

Philippa Gregory is one of my fav authors. Just finished her 3rd (and last, I think) in the Fairmile series called Dawnlands. If you scroll down below you’ll find the 2nd book in the series, Tidelands. Very interesting about English history, but about the same families from the first book in the group. Loved it, as I loved all of them.

Am currently reading Rutherfurd’s long, long book, Paris. I love these involved historical novels about a place (he’s written many about specific places in the world). It’s a saga that goes back and forth in time, following the travails of various people and families, through thick and thin. Some of it during the era of the King Louis’ (plural, should I say Louies?). Very interesting about some of the city’s history and royalty.

Although this book says A Christmas Memory, by Richard Paul Evans, it’s not just about Christmas. A young boy is the hero here, but really an older widower man who lives next door plays a pivotal part of this book.

Wish You Were Here, by Jodi Picoult. Another page-turner. I loved this book. A thirty-something woman, about to take a trip with her boyfriend, when Covid breaks out. Covid plays a major role in this book, beginning to end. She decides to go anyway as her boyfriend is a doctor and cannot leave. She ends up on a remote Galapagos island, and you go along with her – with people she meets, the life she leads, the isolation she experiences, the loneliness she feels, but the joy of nature is a sustaining aspect.

Not everyone wants to read food memoirs. When I saw Sally Schmitt had written a memoir, titled Six California Kitchens, I knew I wanted to read it. I met Sally a few times over the years when I visited Napa Valley, and bought some of her famous pickled items, chutneys, jams, etc. She was the original chef at The French Laundry, before it became truly famous by Thomas Keller.

Being a fan of Vivian Howard (from her TV show), when I saw she’d written another book, I knew I should buy it. This Will Make It Taste Good is such an unusual name for a cookbook, but once you get into the groove of the book, you’ll understand. What’s here are recipes for some “kitchen heroes” she calls them. They’re condiments. They’re food additions, they’re flavor enhancers.

As soon as it came out, I ordered Spare, by Prince Harry. I’ve always been interested in the Royal Family.

Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri. Usually I don’t seek out short stories. I might have purchased this book without realizing it was. There aren’t that many stories – each one gets you very ingrained in the characters. I love her writing, and would think each story in this book could be made into a full-fledged novel.

A Lantern in Her Hand, by Beth Streeter Aldrich. A very interesting and harrowing story of early pioneer days in the Midwest (Nebraska I think); covered wagon time up to about 80 years later as the heroine, Abbie Deal, and her husband start a family in a small town.

The Messy Lives of Book People, by Phaedra Patrick. From amazon’s page: Mother of two Liv Green barely scrapes by as a maid to make ends meet, often finding escape in a good book while daydreaming of becoming a writer herself. So she can’t believe her luck when she lands a job housekeeping for her personal hero, mega-bestselling author Essie Starling, a mysterious and intimidating recluse.

Four Seasons in Rome by Anthony Doerr. I’m a fan of this author and relished reading his book about a year in his personal life, with his wife and very new, newborn twins. Doerr was given an auspicious award – a year of study in Rome, with apartment and a stipend. There are four chapters, by season.

Kristin Hannah’s Distant Shores is quite a read. Some described it as like a soap opera. Not me. Interesting character development of a couple who married young. She put her own career/wants/desires aside to raise their children. He forged ahead with his life dreams. The children grow up and move on. Then he’s offered a huge promotion across the country. She’s torn – she doesn’t want to be in New York, but nothing would get in the way of his career.

Oh, William! by Elizabeth Strout. Lucy Barton is divorced. But she’s still sort of friendly with her ex. It’s complicated. Out of the blue he asks her to go on a trip with him to discover something about his roots.

Tidelands,  by Philippa Gregory. It tells the tale of a peasant woman, Alinor (an herbalist and midwife), who lives barely above the poverty level, trying to raise two children, during the time of great turmoil in England, the rancorous civil war about Charles 1.

Read Reminders of Him, by Colleen Hoover. A page turner of a story. A young woman is convicted of a crime (young and foolish type). Once released her sole purpose is to be a part of her daughter’s life.

The Last Anniversary by Liane Moriarty. Oh my goodness. The wicked webs we weave. How in the world did the author even come UP with this wild story, but she did, and it kept me glued. Sophie walked away from her wedding day, and always wondered if she made the wrong decision.

Very funny and poignant story, Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont, by Elizabeth Taylor (no, not that one). Mrs. Palfrey, a woman of a certain age, moves into an old folks’ home in London. It’s a sort of hotel, but has full time elderly quirky residents.

For one of my book clubs we read Lessons in Chemistry, by Bonnie Garmus. This book is so hard to describe. Elizabeth is a wizard at chemistry and struggles to be recognized for her intelligence and research. She meets a man at her company who is brilliant too. They make quite a pair. They have a child, then he suddenly dies. Her work isn’t taken seriously, so she leaves her employment and becomes an overnight phenom on a cooking show where she uses the chemical names for things like sodium chloride, etc. You go alongside her struggles, and her raising of her daughter. LOTS of humor, lots to discuss for a book club.

Horse. Oh my, is it a page turner. Loved it from the first page to the last. Sad when it ended. It’s a fictional creation but based on a real racehorse owned by a black man, back in the 1850s. Technically, the story is about a painting of the horse but there are many twists and turns. If you’ve ever enjoyed Brooks’ books in the past, this one won’t disappoint.

The Book of Lost Names, by Kristin Harmel (no, not Hannah). Certainly a little-known chunk of history about a woman who becomes a master forger during WWII to help get Jewish children out of France. Not easy to read, meaning the difficulty of anyone finding the means and place to DO the forgery and right under the noses of the Nazis. Really good read.

Liane Moriarty’s first novel, Three Wishes, follows the travails of adult triplets, so different, yet similar in many ways. Two are identical, the third is not. So alike, and so not. It takes you through a series of heart-wrenching events, seemingly unrelated, but ones that could bring a family to its breaking point and test the bonds of love and strength.

Recently I’ve read both of Erin French’s books, her cookbook, The Lost Kitchen, and since then her memoir, Finding Freedom. About her life growing up (difficult) about her coming of age mostly working in the family diner, flipper burgers and fries (and learning how much she liked to cook). Now she’s a very successful restaurant entrepreneur (The Lost Kitchen is also the name of her restaurant) in the minuscule town of Freedom, Maine. She’s not a classically trained chef, but she’s terrifically creative. See her TV series on Discover+ if you subscribe.

Jo Jo Moyes has a bunch of books to her credit. And she writes well, with riveting stories. Everything I’ve read of hers has been good. This book, The Girl You Left Behind, is so different, so intriguing, so controversial and a fascinating historical story. There are two timelines here, one during WWI, in France, when a relatively unknown painter (in the style of Matisse) paints a picture of his wife. The war intervenes for both the husband and the wife.

Eli Shafak’s Island of Missing Trees. This book was just a page turner. If you’ve never read anything about the conflict in Cyprus (the island) between the Turks and the Greeks, you’re in for a big history lesson here. But, the entire story centers around a fig tree. You get into the head/brain/feelings of this big fig tree which plays a very central part of the story. You’ll learn a lot about animals, insects (ants, mosquitos, butterflies) and other flora and fauna of Cyprus.

Also read Apples Never Fall by Liane Moriarty. Ohhh my, such a good book. I couldn’t put it down. Whatever you do, do not read the ending before you start the book. I’ve never understood people who do this. The book chronicles the day a mom just ups and disappears. The grown children come back home, in panic. The dad isn’t much help, and he becomes the prime suspect of foul play. There is no body, however.

If you’d like a mystery read, try Dete Meserve’s The Space Between. It’s just the kind of page-turner I enjoy – a wife returns to her home after being away on business for a few days, to find her husband missing and what he’s left for her is an unexplained bank deposit of a million dollars, a loaded Glock in the nightstand, and a video security system that’s been wiped clean.

Read Alyson Richman’s historical novel called The Velvet Hours. Most of the book takes place in Paris, with a young woman and her grandmother, a very wealthy (but aging) woman who led a life of a semi-courtesan. Or at least a kept woman. But this grandmother was very astute and found ways to invest her money, to grow her money, and to buy very expensive goods. Then WWII intervenes, and the granddaughter has to close up her grandmother’s apartment, leaving it much the way it had been throughout her grandmother’s life, to escape the Nazis. Years go by, and finally answers are sought and found. An intriguing book, based on the author’s experience with an apartment that had been locked up similarly for decades, also in Paris.

Susan Meissner is one of my favorite authors. This book, The Nature of Fragile Things tells a very unusual story. About a young Irish immigrant, desperate to find a way out of poverty, answers an ad for a mail order bride.

Also read Rachel Hauck’s The Writing Desk. You could call this a romance. A young professional, a writer of one successful book, has writer’s block. Then she’s asked to go to Florida to help her mother (from whom she’s mostly estranged) through chemo. She goes, hoping she can find new inspiration.

Also recently finished The Weight of Ink by Rachel Kadish. The book goes backwards and forwards in time, from the 1600s in London with the day-to-day lives of a group of Jews (who had to be very careful about how they worshiped) to current day as an old house is discovered to hold a treasure-trove of historical papers.

Colleen Hoover has written quite a book, It Ends with Us: A Novel, with a love story being the central theme, but again, this book is not for everyone – it can be an awakening for any reader not acquainted with domestic violence and how such injury can emerge as innocent (sort of) but then becomes something else. There is graphic detail here.

Nicolas Barreau’s novel Love Letters from Montmartre: A Novel  is very poignant, very sweet book. Seems like I’ve read several books lately about grieving; this one has a charming ending, but as anyone who has gone through a grave loss of someone dear knows, you can’t predict day to day, week to week. “Snap out of it,” people say, thinking they’re helping.

Another very quirky book, that happens to contain a lot of historical truth is The Phone Booth at the Edge of the World: A Novel by Harry N. Abrams. Set in Japan just after the tsunami 10 years ago when 18,000 people died. At a private park miles away, some very special people installed a phone booth, with a phone (that didn’t work) at the edge of the park, and the survivors of the tsunami began wending their way there to “talk” to their deceased loved ones. Very poignant story.

No question, the most quirky book I’ve read of late, a recommendation from my friend Karen, West with Giraffes: A Novel by Lynda Rutledge. Back in the 1930s a small group of giraffes were brought across the Atlantic from Africa to New York, destined for the then-growing San Diego Zoo. The story is of their journey across the United States in the care of two oh-so-different people, both with a mission.

Could hardly put down Krueger’s book, This Tender Land: A Novel. Tells the harrowing story of a young boy, Odie, (and his brother Albert) who became orphans back in the 30s. At first there is a boarding school, part of an Indian (Native American) agreement, though they are not Indian. They escape, and they are “on the run.”

Just finished Kristin Hannah’s latest book, The Four Winds: A Novel. What a story. One I’ve never read about, although I certainly have heard about the “dust bowl” years when there was a steady migration of down-and-out farmers from the Midwest, to California, for what they hoped to be the American Dream. It tells the story of one particular family, the Martinellis, the grandparents, their son, his wife, and their two children.

Also finished reading Sue Monk Kidd’s recent book, The Book of Longings: A Novel. It is a book that might challenge some Christian readers, as it tells the tale of Jesus marrying a woman named Mary. I loved the book from the first word to the last one. The book is believable to me, even though the Bible never says one way or the other that Jesus ever married. It’s been presumed he never did. But maybe he did?

Jeanine Cummins has written an eye-opener, American Dirt. A must read. Oh my goodness. I will never, ever, ever look at Mexican (and further southern) migrants, particularly those who are victims of the vicious cartels, without sympathy. It tells the story of a woman and her young son, who were lucky enough to hide when the cartel murdered every member of her family – her husband, her mother, and many others. It’s about her journey and escape to America.

Also read JoJo Moyes’ book, The Giver of Stars. Oh gosh, what a GREAT book. Alice joins the Horseback Librarians in the rural south.

Frances Liardet has written a blockbuster tale, We Must Be Brave. I can’t recommend this book highly enough. Although the scene is WWII England, this book is not really about the war. It’s about the people at home, waiting it out, struggling with enough food, clothing and enough heat.

William Kent Krueger wrote Ordinary Grace. From amazon: a brilliantly moving account of a boy standing at the door of his young manhood, trying to understand a world that seems to be falling apart around him. It is an unforgettable novel about discovering the terrible price of wisdom and the enduring grace of God. It’s a coming of age story.

A Column of Fire: A Novel by Ken Follett. It takes place in the 1500s, in England, and has everything to do with the war between the Catholics and the Protestants, that raged throughout Europe during that time, culminating in the Spanish Inquisition.

My Name Is Resolute by Nancy Turner. She’s the author of another book of some renown, These is my Words:

The Shepherd’s Life: Modern Dispatches from an Ancient Landscape by James Rebanks. This is a memoir, so a true story, of a young man growing up in the Lake District of Northern England, who becomes a shepherd. Not just any-old shepherd – actually a well educated one. He knows how to weave a story.

 

Tasting Spoons

My blog's namesake - small, old and some very dented engraved silver plated tea spoons that belonged to my mother-in-law, and I use them to taste my food as I'm cooking.

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Posted in Uncategorized, on August 24th, 2015.

If you don’t want to read my saga of one of my computers, you can skip this post. No food today. No pretty pictures of food (and I still can’t upload recipe files yet). Nothing but a text post.

A couple of weeks ago I posted a short little blurb about my computer having problems and that I wasn’t able to blog. Fortunately I had several food posts already scheduled to post, and as I write this, I still have 2 posts scheduled this week. Just in the nick of time, I’m tellin’ ya.

About 3 months ago now, I bought 2 new computers (my old ones were 7 years old) – I know – I’m only one person and certainly my kitten (who is as cute as button, by the way) doesn’t do anything with a computer except be ever-fascinated with the keyboard and occasionally the movement of the cursor across the screen. I have one computer upstairs in my office and another in the kitchen. More and more, I’m using the kitchen one for most of my computer tasks and even some game-playing. I’m not into “gaming,” just several variety of solitaire games. I do all of my posts from the kitchen computer.

So, I blithely went through the process of loading programs onto the new kitchen computer, getting my programs to run and work correctly, including MasterCook, which I use for storing all my recipes. It took a week or so to get everything working correctly. And here’s a foreshadowing comment: after restoring and setting up Carbonite to begin backing up my computer again, I forgot – totally forgot – to go tell Carbonite to back up my MasterCook files. Calamity. But that’s just the beginning.

I think I mentioned in my previous post that I was baking something, using the kitchen computer for the recipe. Just as I leaned over to read what was next, the monitor went to a blank screen (I don’t use a screen saver since I’ve had problems in the past with Dell computers and sleep mode and with screen savers, so I select “none” and whenever it reaches that time limit, it simply goes to a black, blank screen). Had been working fine that way. So I reached over with my flour-dusted hands and tapped the space bar to get the screen to open up and my computer went “sssst.” The screen didn’t come up. I tried several different things (ESC key for one, more taps on the space bar). Wash hands. Then I tried CTRL-ALT-DEL to see what was running. Nothing happened. No response to my request. I rebooted it, and funny thing – I was able at one point to get to a C: prompt and discovered that my entire MasterCook program was gone. Vanished from the hard drive. That was a bit perplexing, but at that point I hadn’t realized that I’d forgotten to tell Carbonite to back up everything. It was backing up most things, but NOT my recipe files.

Anyway, that began a long saga. I spent about 5 hours (over several days) on the phone with Dell/India trying to repair the problem. Nothing worked. One of the solutions was for them to send me a USB drive to take the system back to factory settings. But that meant it wiped out everything else on the hard drive. They thought the problem was the Windows program itself (I guess it was, but that was just the beginning of the problems). It took many days for the USB drive to arrive, and I finally took it back to factory. But it still didn’t run. Windows wouldn’t load. More hours on the phone with Dell/India. Then they decided I needed a new motherboard. First they updated the BIOS, hoping that would help. No. So I waited many days (with a frustrating lack of communication from Dell about when they were coming to do the work). Finally that happened, but Dell contracts with people to come and do the motherboard installation but not anything else. When the repair person turned on the computer after the install, my screen was seeing double. A full screen, side by side, but squished so the print was unreadable. The motherboard installer said I’d have to take it up with Dell. So, more hours on the phone with Dell/India. They did another session of remotely running my computer. Their end showed a normal screen, but mine was still seeing double. Many hours later with my cordless phone about to run out of juice because it had taken so long, he said well, we’ll need to schedule another motherboard install. I went non-linear. NO. Not doing that again. At that point I’d been without my computer for 2+ weeks. I simply said NO, I want a new computer. I guess they don’t normally do that, but after reviewing my Dell buying record, they relented and shipped me a new computer. And of course, on the day it was delivered I happened to be pouring some precious kitchen sink water onto the very thirsty outdoor plants on the patio and missed hearing the FedEx delivery person at the front door. They wouldn’t deliver without a signature. Talk about frustrated. Finally got it delivered a day later. That was last Tuesday, so I’ve been working ever since trying to get everything working correctly, loading a variety of programs I use for my blogging. But in that interim I’d realized that my MasterCook files were AWOL. What I do have is a copy of my recipes (contained in about 15 different cookbooks by category) that date to 2011, and I think I have another set dating from 2013. So I’ve lost all the recipes I’ve collected online, from cookbooks, for the last 2 or maybe 4 years.

Recipes on my blog are retrievable FROM the blog. Thank goodness! But, I probably had about 1000 recipes in my to-try file (in the MasterCook program) that are gone. SSSST. Just like that. Gone. But it’s totally my fault – I can’t blame anyone but myself. How many I’d added in the last 2-4 years I don’t know. And can I think of any one specific recipe to go look for, no. I haven’t started trying to figure out what I do have or don’t have. I haven’t integrated the old cookbooks with the ones I do have. It’s not a simple process, believe it or not. I’ll work on it eventually.

So, there’s the saga. My computer guru guy is coming tomorrow to help me get one of the programs linking up with my blog (the FTP file transfer which I can’t seem to get running correctly), and to set up the network so I can see my upstairs files, and my upstairs computer can see my downstairs files. I’m pretty savvy with computer stuff, but the FTP thing is beyond my ken. It’s probably something very simple I’m not doing right.

I’ll only add one more subject into this post. I’m so frustrated with passwords. I use a handy-dandy password program and mostly I’m consistent about adding to it and clarifying or correcting it when I make changes. But I’m password weary. Everything wants a password. Some insist on one or more numbers in it, and not consecutive ones. Others require at least one capital letter with lower case letters. Some insist on some oddball character also. And I’m really beyond comprehension about my apple ID and password. Unfortunately when I got my first iPhone, the salesperson told me to create an apple ID, which I did with an email address at @me.com. Well, I never use that, but even though I’ve changed it, some of my apple programs are still linked to that original email address. This confounds me. Just more complicated. I don’t want Windows to remember my passwords (that’s not so safe, in my book) and particularly anything that might be financially related. There has to be an easier way. I hope the techies in the world who work on this are doing so, finding an easier way.

And yes, in answer to your question, I went onto Carbonite yesterday and told it to begin backing up everything again, including my MasterCook cookbooks. I hope to goodness I never make THAT mistake again! Carbonite is a great program, but it’s only as good as the operator – ME!

Posted in Uncategorized, on August 13th, 2015.

oliver_aug_7_15

These days I’m a family of one – well, I was until about 2 weeks ago when I gave in to the urge to have a pet. One of my granddaughters (Sabrina) volunteers at a pet rescue center in San Diego, and she’s a huge cat lover, so she’s been chiding me, pleading with me, begging me to adopt a cat. I started off with all kinds of parameters – my want list was: adult cat, very lovable, talkative, preferably a snowshoe cat, and already declawed. Oh yes, and short haired. Spayed or neutered too, of course. She’d identified several cats over the last 9 months or so, but for a variety of reasons (like I was going on a trip in 2 weeks, or no, it’s long-haired, I don’t want that kind; or no, it’s not declawed . . . the list went on). Finally, though, I told her about a month or so ago that I was finally ready and within about 2 weeks she’d found the perfect cat for me. I set up to drive to San Diego the next day and get him, and no, my granddaughter wasn’t able to put him on a hold. Just before I drove out of my garage I thought I’d best check online to make sure he was still there. Oh, darn. He’d been adopted that morning. My granddaughter was heart-broken.

A week or so went by and my daughter called to say she and Sabrina were coming up to Orange County for the day (a trip to Knott’s Berry Farm was in the cards for grandson John and 2 of his friends). As soon as they arrived Sara was online looking at shelters in my area. Well, one thing led to another, and off we went to a cat rescue center. I looked at the adult cats and didn’t have any “feeling” for any of them and the only one I kind of liked nearly bit me. So much for that. On our way out we walked through the kitten room. Oh, I should never have let the employee there hand me a kitten. My downfall. This kitten is 4 months old, isn’t declawed (and if most vets and cat friends had their way no cats would ever be declawed, I understand) and he wasn’t a snowshoe, although he has sort of similar markings of one. He’s neutered, chipped, and has his shots. But oh my gosh, he’s a KITTEN. Kittens are a lot of work – they almost never slow down.

I love him to pieces. He’s very sweet and talkative. He does let me hold and pet him some, though only on his timetable, not mine. That’s normal, I know. Yesterday I took him to the cat vet and had “soft paws” put on his nails. It’s like acrylic nails for cats and they’re attached with super glue. They’re supposed to last 4-6 weeks, but I can tell you little Oliver has already, 24 hours later, chewed off 3 of them. The vet said I’d probably have to have them done a 2nd time – by then it’s hoped he’ll realize that he can’t use his claws for much. And I won’t have to declaw him. I had them do it to all 4 paws as he’s already using both front and back claws for climbing onto chairs and sofas. He’s pretty good about scratching on his cardboard scratcher and short sisal tree.

After returning from the vet’s office Oliver was glued to me. On the drive to and fro I had a hard time listening to his plaintive meows from inside his cat carrier – which he just HATED – the meowing was so pitiful as if he was in terrible pain.

I won’t even TELL you how much money I’ve spent on litter boxes, litter, toys, dry food, wet food, more toys and more toys. Two of the upscale dry food choices I’ve purchased he won’t eat. Gee, he’s only a kitten and he’s already pernickety about his food? Oliver gets very bored and I shut him up in a windowless bathroom when I go out somewhere – I feel sorry for him closed  up in that room for several hours at a time. But I’ve been told to never give him fish (too much mercury), even the canned cat type. I do have a fish-flavored treat type that’s tuna flavored and he’s all over that. Also learned that cats are lactose intolerant. But he craves milk – he nearly drags my coffee mug out of my hands every morning trying to get to it. I’ve given him a few little licks of yogurt. And did you know that cats don’t develop a taste for catnip until they’re 6 months old?

Posted in Uncategorized, on July 28th, 2015.

7000 SeriesTo say that I’m flummoxed is an understatement. I bought 2 new Dell all-in-one computers (as in blurry photo above) about 9 weeks ago. My kitchen computer, the one that houses my entire recipe collection and my photo software, the one I use for all my blogging etc. just quit working a few days ago. Hours and hours have been spent on the phone with Dell (of course, they don’t want to replace anything yet). They’re very reluctant to do a major fix until they have to. They want me to start from scratch. Am not sure I’ll do that – yet. I have a great local guy who works with me on computer stuff, networking, wi-fi, etc. when it’s beyond my ken, and his assistant is working today trying to see if she can restore the unit.

I have everything on my system backed up (files, recipes, but not the programs, of course) on Carbonite, so I HAVE everything, but it may be days or a week or more before I’m able to get back in operation. I use google photos, so fortunately not more than a few weeks ago I finally got all my photos linked up with that. And fortunately, I was completely up to date with the posts I’d completed. 

Maybe you won’t notice anything different – maybe by the time recipe posts I’ve already done go live (there are a few in the bank), my computer will be back in operation. I could try to restore everything onto my upstairs office computer, but it’s awfully hard to run up and down the stairs all the time. I suppose I could move the upstairs one downstairs. For now. I’ll wait a day or two I think. 

Posted in Uncategorized, on June 28th, 2015.

grilling_veggies_pork_chop

So what’s this, you’re thinking? Huh? Veggies and a pork chop? Well, no, it’s probably not all that significant to most people. But it was significant to me. In the last 15+ months since Dave passed away, my darling DH, I’ve done a bit of grilling – a few times I’ve done meat and once or twice I did some veggies. When friends have visited, I asked them to “man” the grill. It’s been awhile, though, since I’d done it myself. I wanted to grill the yellow squash, but it seemed like a waste to fire up the grill for just veggies. The same could be said for a pork chop. It could be done on the stove top.

I know the mechanics of grilling. I know about how hot the grill should be to sear meat, and how it needs to be lower to do veggies. I know about searing, then pulling the meat aside so it’s not over direct heat, but still leaving the grill up medium-high. But I’d never really done it. I own a bunch of barbecue/grilling cookbooks, and I’ve attended my fair share of grilling classes. But there’s a difference between book learning and actually hovering over the hot grill with tongs or a long-handled fork in hand. This time I did it. For me, that was a hurdle I needed to get to, up and over.

With Dave, I just gave him the instructions and reminded him of the finished temperature of the meat and he went with it. The grill was his friend. I don’t know that I can say that – yet – that the grill is my friend. I’m not exactly afraid of it, but it’s a big-honkin’ thing – it has enough surface to grill about 30 steaks, for sure. I used just two sections for this dinner – one for the veggies and one for the pork chop. But before I took them off the grill I snapped a photo. To say I’d done it. To savor the accomplishment. Maybe not a big thing for you, but it was for me!

And yes, the pork chop was cooked perfectly (yes, I was a bit proud!) and the veggies were just barely soft and had lots of grill marks. That basket made it very easy – I just stirred them every few minutes. I feel like I’ve graduated from grilling boot camp.

But then after I was done I turned the burners to high and put down the lid, with the intent to return in an hour to vigorously brush off the grates and turn off the burners. That was a trick Dave used to do. Guess what? I forgot all about it – discovered 24 hours later that the 2 burners were still on high. Gosh darn. Maybe I didn’t graduate from boot camp after all.

Posted in Uncategorized, on April 30th, 2015.

red_ceramic_pots_puglia

I’ve always loved ceramics. And many years ago I took classes (this was about 50 years ago) learning only how to paint them, not form them with the clay. These pots above I thought were particularly beautiful. They were sitting in a window sill at the Masseria Cervarolo.

Puglia is known for its ceramics. Umbria is also, and is probably the more well known for the town of Deruta, where most of the world-famous plates and dishes are made. So it was a surprise to find that Puglia has its own reputation for ceramics as well.

ceramic_cactus_masseria_cervaroloThe Masseria had a number of lovely things sitting around, and we found out that the town where most of them are made, Grottaglie, was about 15+ miles away. So on one of our forays out to nearby towns to tour, we made a detour to visit the ceramics shops.

The photo at left is a large piece (probably 2 1/2 feet high) that sits in the living room of the Masseria. I’m not a fan of cactus, but I’d suppose some people must be, otherwise nobody would make such ceramic sculptures! I found it so interesting that they’d make one, and also that it would be white.

ceramic_pots_masseria_carnavaloThere at right is a grouping of 3 very tall vases (the tallest one is probably 2 1/2 feet tall). It sat in a corner in the same living room at the Masseria.

We found out who the ceramicist was (name and shop name) and went in search of his workshop in Grottaglie. Imagine our dismay when we discovered the shop was closed. It was Friday afternoon, Good Friday, so we supposed all the shops must be closed for the holiday. We walked around some more, did find a couple of shops open, but they had nothing like what I was looking for. I wanted to buy one piece, or maybe 2 or 3 in a grouping that will sit on my very large kitchen island. I’d also seen a particularly cute artichoke at the Masseria that I wanted to find.

masseria_cervarolo_steps_ceramicsThere at left are two steps at the Masseria where they’d set out some fresh flowers. Note the very rustic walls. So simple, but yet so pretty.

Well, anyway, we wandered into another shop and I knew immediately this one would probably have something I’d like. The proprietor came towards us and after saying hello, I asked: “do you ship to the United States?” He was so very funny – he said “of course, is Nordstrom good enough?” We all laughed. He spoke very good English and had a beautiful store. Fasano Ceramiche.

mosaic_plattersWandering all over the large store, I found lots of things I liked. If I could have, I’d have purchased about 100 things and shipped them all. Puglia is known for one particular shaped thing, called a pumi. It’s egg-shaped with a flared base so it will stand. All over the region we’d see them on the top corners of buildings. On the top of walls, on patio fences. Sitting on front steps, in windows. I asked about them, and was told that they’re a Puglian good luck symbol, and often women use them as a fertility good luck charm, so to speak. Well, the things I bought aren’t pumi, but they are similarly shaped.

The shop had dozens of pumi in different colors and sizes. This was a distant shelf with them in many sizes. The pumi always is shown with leaves around the bottoms.pumi_white_wide

What I bought is a bit different – they’re ceramic egg shapes with decorated tops, in a mosaic kind of loose pattern.  And no leaf patterns.pumi_mosaic See photo below.

I purchased the lower set of 3, but they’ll be in a gold/mustard color in the mosaic design (which will blend in with the streaky granite I have on my kitchen countertop). I also bought one artichoke. It’s so cute. I have no specific idea where the artichoke is going to go in my house, but I wanted it, that’s all I knew. The artichoke is about 11 inches high, I’m guessing. Photo below.

artichoke_ceramicI’m supposed to receive them in the next week or so. Customs inspection permitting.

Posted in Uncategorized, on March 21st, 2015.

3_21_2015_daves_watch

Early this morning, a year ago, my darling Dave (my DH) passed away. I knew today would be a rough one and it is.  I have plans to be with friends later today and with daughter Sara tomorrow. But this morning I’m home, letting out my grief. And I decided to write. Here. To share it. I hope you don’t mind.

Last year, a week or so after Dave’s death, my friend Cherrie gave me a really pretty decorated box (with sand, shells, ocean, birds on the cover) and into it I put Dave’s most personal things. And all the dear, dear cards sent to me after he was gone, with the heartfelt notes of sympathy. And of memories shared. Words of encouragement, appropriate bible scriptures, hope, love, caring.

The one year anniversary of a spouse’s death (or the death of any dear one) is a milestone. A hurdle, a huge emotional hurdle. And maybe more so with a spouse. But it’s a journey we must take in our grief path. A walk of tears for sure. As I write this, I’ve been going through that box. I haven’t been in that box at all, except to add an item or two that had been misplaced in my house. Someone told me – or maybe this was from the griefshare class I took – I can’t recall – to not delve into the box until the one-year anniversary. And then it’s an appropriate time, that one year milestone, to go through the things. To cry over them, to savor memories and to be warmed mightily by the loving and caring cards from my friends. And then you can put away the box for another time. Maybe the 2nd anniversary. Or maybe not for a long time.

So, this morning, I read about half of the 200+ cards I received. They make me cry. And as I kept digging down in the box there were his glasses. I hugged them to me. I came across the x-rays of Dave’s brain, showing the bleeding from his stroke. I didn’t dwell on those. But then I found the little baggie the nurse at the hospital gave me with clippings of Dave’s hair. I think that made me cry the most. I opened the bag and hoped to find his scent. No, unfortunately. His wallet is in the box. Still with the little bit of money he had there from the day before his stroke. I just can’t seem to take that $36 out of his wallet. At least not yet. I tucked his passport in the box too. That also made me cry – a lot. For all the trips we’ll not be able to share in the future.

And then I came to his watch. I pulled it out and hugged it to my heart. You just never know, when you’re grieving, what is going to be an emotional trigger. He loved this inexpensive Seiko watch. It was his everyday watch. And I couldn’t believe it when I looked at it and realized it’s still running. It’s a sign. I just feel it in my heart – it’s still ticking – and Dave wanted me to know he’s okay. He’s in heaven and he’s whole, happy and his heart is ticking in lockstep with Jesus. That’s what I choose to believe. (Disregard the fact that it’s a good battery in that watch and that it’s sat still and unattended for a year . . . no, I choose to believe it’s a heavenly sign.)

A dear friend of mine sent me an email message this morning – her husband died 3 years ago, so we often share grief feelings. I thought this paragraph she wrote to me was very meaningful: This is a special day for recognizing the loss.  It is a day of celebrating the life of Dave. Grieving stems not from the death itself but from the loss—the change in your life. The loss of laughter, love and the connection past, present and future that we mourn.

Back to the box: I started taking a few notes as I went through the cards – one, a reminder to send an email to some because of what they wrote or something about the card itself, and another I wrote down because of how the words or the message struck me. I thought I’d share a few.

Love never dies

Eventually the sun will shine again . . . (maybe I’m seeing a glimmer)

Blessed are those who mourn for they will be comforted . . . Matthew 5:4 (this is one I chant to myself often)

Every ripple a memory, every memory a blessing . . . (this was in a card with a picture of a lighthouse and the ocean beyond)

The heart that has truly loved never forgets . . . Thomas Moore

Friends comfort the hurt, share the sadness, soften the grief and inspire the healing . . . (and I’m so very blessed with many friends)

To reach the port of heaven, we must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it,—but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor. (This last one, my favorite, a quote from Oliver Wendell Holmes [from his book The Autocrat at the Breakfast Table], which is so appropriate because Dave was a sailor. Dave’s college girlfriend Meredith wrote that on the card she sent me.)

Posted in Uncategorized, on January 28th, 2015.

Many of you probably read Bon Appetit already. If so, you’ve likely read Andrew Knowlton’s annual article about what’s hot in the food biz (in his not-so-humble opinion that is). Just in case you missed it, here it is, culled down to the basics:

1. Gyros are in.

2. Cold brew coffee pulled from a tap like beer, infused with nitrogen so it’s a smoother, creamier drink.

3. Bacalao – it’s a dried fish ubiquitous to Portugal and Spain – you have to soak it in milk to get out all the salt and not-so-pleasant flavors – people are eating it on pizza, in sandwiches and ravioli. Hmmm.

4. Even top chefs put tacos on their menus – he mentioned four specific chefs/restaurants in NYC, Charleston, Chicago and San Francisco.

5. It looks like marijuana cooked in food will eventually make it onto menus (yes, really).

6. Shake Shack (burger and fries chain with global locations).

7. A grapefruit liqueur (Crème de Pamplemousse) is hitting every mainstream bar (it has mild sweetness and immense aromatics).

8. New restaurant names – lots will use some very weird methods to come up with a name. Knowlton says they’ll use something like – fill in the blanks here:  “your spirit animal” or “Grandma’s name” or your “favorite ingredient” PLUS words like “luxury, “provisions” or “luncheonette.” What you’ll get from that are things like: “Sea Otter & Sons Luxury,” “Anise Hyssop Provisions” or “’Ma Knowlton’s Luncheonette.” (I must admit that restaurant names have been more unusual of late – even I’ve noticed that.)

9. Bing Bread – had never heard of it until now – it’s Chinese, full name is shaobing –  it’s a flaky flatbread often eaten at breakfast with things like baked potato, bacon and scallion in/on it with sour cream on top.

10. Beef Tongue. ‘Nuf said. I won’t be having any; sorry. There’s something about the texture I don’t care for.

11. Upscale beer bars – yup – for beer nerds he says, featuring specialized glassware, sleek taps and very worthy food to go along with. He calls them “grown up bars.”

12. Cocktails from the 70s like Long Island Iced Tea, White Russians, Grasshoppers.

13. Kolache (koh-laa-chee) – it’s a Czech inspiration – but American chefs have taken the filled pastry to new heights with fillings like jalapeno, cheese, sausage, black beans, corn and chorizo. Traditionally kolache are sweet pastries, and the best ones are yeasted. At the moment these savory styled ones are in Houston, Austin and Brooklyn.

————————————–

Knowlton also wrote an article in the December issue about the things he didn’t like in 2014.

A Few Things I [Andrew Knowlton] Didn’t Like:

1. Seeing the same damn menu items all over the country (deviled eggs, oysters, carrots with yogurt, steak for two).
2. The thought of paying for prime reservations.
3. Being told how to order.
4. “Everything will come out when it’s ready.”
5. Uni-exploitation. [excuse me, but what IS that? I found no explanation on the ‘net.]
6. Too-many-ingredient cocktails.
7. The Wall Street-ification of bourbon.

Posted in Uncategorized, on December 24th, 2014.

carolyn_singing

At our wonderful Christmas concert at our church, I happened to be seated on an outside edge, so my cousin took some photos of me. We did two concerts, nearly 2 hours long with our adult choir (120 voices), the high school kids’ choir (about 50), orchestra (about 18 or so) and bell ringers (12). When you’re a singer, though, you have to learn how to sing Hallelujah. It’s HAh, then ley, then LOO, then lower your jaw with the jah. It’s not ya, it’s jaaah. Got that? Oh, good.

We sang 3-4 parts of Handel’s Messiah, including the final one, the Hallelujah Chorus. At our church, many years ago, someone stood up when the choir began to sing the Hallelujah Chorus, and it’s now a tradition – everyone stands, and those who know the music sing along. It’s huge. The high school kids were intermingled with our choir to sing the Messiah, so there were about 170 voices singing plus all the people in the audience. It was glorious. Absolutely beautiful, even for me!

I’m hoping all of you have a lovely Christmas, when we celebrate the birth of Christ. I’ll be with family both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. My cousin Gary is visiting, and we’ve been very busy, for which I’m grateful. My darling DH, would have sung all of the Messiah from memory. It was one of his favorite pieces of music.

Posted in Uncategorized, on December 17th, 2014.

Did you know there ARE rules about cookie baking. Uh-huh! Read on . . .

Christmas Cookie Rules…

1. If you eat a Christmas cookie fresh out of the oven, it has no calories
because everyone knows that the first cookie is the test and thus calorie
free.

2. If you drink a diet soda after eating your second cookie, it also has no
calories because the diet soda cancels out the cookie calories.

3. If a friend comes over while you’re making your Christmas cookies and
needs to sample, you must sample with your friend. Because your friend’s
first cookie is calories free, (rule #1) yours is also. It would be rude to
let your friend sample alone and, being the friend that you are, that makes
your cookie calorie free.

4. Any cookie calories consumed while walking around will fall to your feet
and eventually fall off as you move. This is due to gravity and the density
of the caloric mass.

5. Any calories consumed during the frosting of the Christmas cookies will
be used up because it takes many calories to lick excess frosting from a
knife without cutting your tongue.

6. Cookies colored red or green have very few calories. Red ones have three
and green ones have five – one calorie for each letter. Make more red ones!

7. Cookies eaten while watching “Miracle on 34th Street” have no calories
because they are part of the entertainment package and not part of one’s
personal fuel.

8. As always, cookie pieces contain no calories because the process of
breaking  causes calorie leakage.

9. Any cookies consumed from someone else’s plate have no calories since the
calories rightfully belong to the other person and will cling to their
plate. We all know how calories like to CLING!

10. Any cookies consumed while feeling stressed have no calories because
cookies used for medicinal purposes NEVER have calories. It’s a rule!

So, go out and enjoy those Christmas Cookies – we only get them this time of
year! 

– – – – – –

This cute thing I’d never seen before. On Friday, this week, 2 girlfriends and I (and my cousin Gary who will be here and has agreed to take on Dave’s role of washing dishes) are going to bake cookies here at my house. So we’ll definitely need to re-read those rules when we begin!

Posted in Uncategorized, on December 12th, 2014.

egg_shells

Those of you who have been through this grief journey with me know that I haven’t cooked much for a long time. Nothing very noteworthy anyway. But because it’s Christmas, well . . .

Every year I bake a bread that has been a regular on our/my Christmas table. It’s not a new recipe by any means – in fact, I think I’ve posted about it twice. Bishop’s Bread. It’s packed with walnuts, bishops bread baked 540chocolate chips and halved maraschino cherries. I’ve made this every year (except one) since the 1960’s. And as I write this on Friday, December 12th, until this morning I hadn’t baked a thing yet of my usual Christmas goodies. But this morning, as it’s raining cats and dogs here in Southern California (blessed rain, thank you, Lord) I felt the urge to make this bread. I’ve managed to do it with my ailing foot. I may be resting it the rest of the day because of it, but 2 loaves are in the oven.

pool overflowing dec 08Christmas music is playing in my warm kitchen, the rain is pitter-pattering on the skylight here in the kitchen, and I can hear the oven fan going. And yes, I miss Dave immensely. He’d be right here with me, grabbing up the dirty bowls, spoons, measuring spoons and cups, and throwing out those egg shells, cleaning up after me. If I let myself dwell on that, or all the other wonderful things about him that I miss, it will make me depressed. So, I’m not going there.

In 2008 I took the photo above, at one corner of the big pool, as the rain had completely filled the pool and it was overflowing. That’s exactly what’s happening right now, but it’s still raining, so I’m not going out there to take a new photo. That corner of the pool is lower than the other – settling has occurred on the property over the years. So it’s the low spot.

Anyway, baking – I’m just glad that I FELT like baking. My friend Cherrie virtually doesn’t bake. She cooks everything else, even cookies, but she doesn’t do other kinds of baking, hardly. I asked her if she wanted a loaf, and she said “oh yes, PLEASE!” She loves Bishop’s Bread as much as I do. So, celebrate with me/for me that I feel like baking. And if you don’t like fruitcake (my hand raised here), then maybe this bread is right for you.

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