Author: Jamie

Day 57: Waiting for Ice Cream

Day 57: Waiting for Ice Cream


I will no longer wait for a certain love.

I will no longer wait to be better understood.

I will no longer wait for someone else’s
assistance,
attendance,
or enthusiasm.

I will not wait for a thumb’s up or pat on the back.

I will not wait for a “you should” or a “go for it.”

 

All of those things would be nice to have,
but I’ll no longer hold
future memory or present opportunity
in bated breath and pause.

 

I’ve been too long

like a little kid

staring at the sidewalk

waiting for melting ice cream

to jump back

into the cone.

I am grown now.
I’m buying a new cone.

Triple scoop.

 

Day57_GotMyIceCream

I think I’ll get one for each my kids, too.


Day 56: Future Memories

Day 56: Future Memories

I miss things that haven’t happened.

 

o, how much space is filled with future memories
and the want of somedays of normal things…

 

camping trips and menu plans,
laundromats and walks,
farmers markets,
magazines,
watching too much something.

thunderstorms.

getting in the car and going,
bad jokes, good coffee,
live music,
dead art,
singing together in crooked chord.

 

it’s not doing the things

but the gladness I’d feel in them

to have you beside me

whilst I do.

 

Day56_Future Memory


Day 55: Life Lessons Via Culinary Flop

Day 55: Life Lessons Via Culinary Flop

I used to teach a fine art program for kids wherein the main instructor was adamant that a child NEVER throw their half-finished project or drawing away because it “wasn’t right.” He argued that until you see it through to the end, you won’t know what it could have been or how you could have improved upon it.

I exercised this principle when getting off to a very rocky start in a recent sourdough-venture.

First, I over proved the bejeezus out of a stiff starter. The thing smelled like ripe nail polish and felt like wet leather. I’m pretty sure there was no hope. I would have thrown it out.

BUT, I fed it, reconstituted it to sour (rather than rank) and let it chill.

I knew bread would elicit too strong a sour taste with how long the starter had developed, but pancakes! Now pancakes could do… syrup DOES cover a multitude of sins.

Having no clue how to make sourdough pancakes, I did what every good and stubborn baker does:
I googled,
I scoffed,
and I made it up as I went
.

so…


Sourdough Pancakes

Ingredients:

Day55_a_Ingredients

  • ¾ cup (150g) stiff sourdough starter, at room temperature
  • 1 egg
  • 1 ½ Tablespoon sugar
  • 1 cup buttermilk
  • 2 Tablespoons canola oil
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • ½ cup all-purpose unbleached flour (or whole wheat flour for a nuttier taste)
  • ¾ teaspoon salt

Throw the starter, egg, sugar, buttermilk, oil and soda in a bowl and let it soak at least 15-20 minutes to loosen up the starter.

Day55_c_EyeBallStew

It will look gross.

It will feel even grosser. Mmmmm, eyeball stew….

 

After soaking, mix this on med-high for 3 minutes with a whisk attachment. This should break up the starter. Here is the SECOND place I would have thrown the thing out. No matter the whip, the batter looked like this:

Day55_d_ThatsNotMixed

well, that’s nothing I’ve seen before….

 

BUT WAIT, stay the course. It gets good!

Add the ½ cup of flour and ¾ teaspoon salt, still whisking, but only until the flour is incorporated, then let it sit for 10 minutes.

While that’s resting, we start setting the table but decide that maple syrup is not going to be the best pairing with sourdough, so we invent this:


Honey & Agave Banana Syrup

Ingredients:

Day55_e_SyrupIngredients

  • 4 Tablespoons butter
  • ¼ cup honey
  • 1/3 cup agave syrup
  • ½ sliced or mashed banana
  • 1 Tablespoon brown sugar
  • ¼ cup dried tart cherries (not pictured)
  • 1/3 cup chopped pecans (not pictured)
  • dried rosemary. yes. rosemary. for sprinkling on top. trust me. (not pictured)

 

Throw the butter, honey, agave, banana, and brown sugar in a small sauce pan.

Day55_f_Boil

Bring it to a steaming low boil over medium heat and whisk it until the bananas have broken and blended into the magma.

Day55_g_Whisk

Pour all but a Tablespoon or so of the syrup into a serving vessel. In the remaining Tablespoon (still in the saucepan) add the dried cherries and chopped pecans.

Day55_h_Cherries&Pecans

Stir until they’re coated, soft and warm.


Now, back to the cakes…

(I like an electric griddle for cakes. It keeps a steady temperature and you don’t need to mess with butters and oils to bake on.)

Pour ¼ cup of the batter out and cook them at 350° for about 4 minutes until they bubble on the surface, like this:

Day55_i_Griddle

flip them and cook for an additional 2 minutes or so, and flop them on a serving tray.

Now, remember when I said I almost threw this away TWICE during the conjuring process???

 

 

I give you the best tasting mistake I’ve ever digested:

Day55_j_SourdoughPancakeStack

stack the cakes
drizzle with syrup
dollop with cherries and nuts
sprinkle with ROSEMARY, it makes the whole thing come alive


How many masterpieces have we scrapped mid-stroke?

How much of us is hidden for what we’ve done or fear we will do, wrong?

How might any mislaid plan be redirected and deliver us to new and better places?

How will we know till we see it through?

Day 54: A Rise in the Tide

Day 54: A Rise in the Tide

I felt it today, a slow swell and increasing,
leaning against me
and swaying

 

nothing’s changed
but everything’s better

 

you came back to yourself and I saw.

 

Day54_RisingTide


Day 53: There is No Part of Me

Day 53: There is No Part of Me


You cannot have my joy
without allowing for the sorrow.
Do not play with me today
if you’ll not work with me, tomorrow.

You do not get the lover
without caring for the child.
I will not show my tame
if you cannot witness wild.

 

There is no ease without the nerve.

There is no straight without the swerve.

 

There is no part of me

that can be taken

apart from all the rest.

There is no part of me

that is not needed

or in this body, blessed.

There is no part of me.

 

 

If you should choose to love me,
love every crooked side;
the heart in all its colors
is ferocious and sublime.

I am a tyrant and a servant,
a sinner and a saint.
I am cracked but fused together
an explosion in restraint.

It’s all or nothing, love.
I am not ala carte.
You can’t pick out the mushrooms
and keep
my quartered heart.

 

Day53_There is No Part of Me


Day 52: Losing Focus

Day 52: Losing Focus

there was something I was close to
and it was good

there was something I was near
and it was whole

there was something I could walk on
and it was solid ground

there was something I could fly from
and it always let me land

 

I feel it going

and am filled with sorrow for not knowing

what it was

what it is

what it could have been

 

it’s on the other side of glass.

I can see it.

out of focus.
and getting smaller.

 

Day52_LosingFocus


Day 51: Falling into Fine

Day 51: Falling into Fine

There are times that I’m afraid of what’s on the other side of all this process and pain and laughter and learning and change and discomfort and excitement and hope and curiosity and question.

I’m afraid that the other side of this is just…

Fine.

Fine, like a sandwich you get at a gas station.
It fills the space but leaves you empty.

 

Fine, like a flower without scent.
it fills your vase but leaves no aroma.

 

Fine, like fake wood
and flimsy knives
and rental roller-skates.

 

 

When I feel that fear,
I remind myself that I’ll only fall into fine if I don’t cross this chasm

all

the

way.

 

Fine is like a creek under all this, ready for a slip on the bridge above, ready to carry me off in it’s current like a leaf or a twig if I get scared, or lazy, or forget that all this actually IS important.

 

Fine tells me to settle down.

Fine tells me no one cares.

Fine tells me I’ll be okay without.

Fine tells me my dreams are just

 

dreams.

 

Fine whispers, “wake up. get real. deal.” with a smile and a hug
as if it was being kind.
as if it was helping me to grow up.

(since when did “grow up” mean “get small?”)

Fine gurgles below me and cajoles me
back to the fine I’ve been fine with
for far too long.

I am not fine.
I am fight and flight,
finding and fastidious.
and I will not float away in fine today.

Day51_BridgingOverFine


Day 50: The Bun

Day 50: The Bun

In honor of summer days, hot grills, cold beer, and the lady who forgot to buy the buns, I give you:

No Knead Cheddar Buns

(what did you just call me?)

 

Ingredients:

Day50_a_Ingredients

  • 13 oz all-purpose unbleached flour (2 ¾ c)
  • ½ cup shredded white cheddar cheese
  • ¾ teaspoon salt
  • 1 Tablespoon sugar
  • 2 ½ teaspoons yeast
  • 4 Tablespoons bacon fat (if you don’t have this on hand, butter will do…but if you’re having bacon burgers, just cook your bacon first and save the grease!)
  • 1 egg
  • butter for brushing the buns

 

 

Combine all the ingredients and beat it on high for about two to three minutes until it looks like this:

Day50_b_mix

And there’s a little bit of gluten stretch

Day50_c_Gluten

Cover it and let it rise for 90 minutes. It’ll rise and puff up.

Day50_d_Puff

Divide your dough into the bun size you like and place them on a greased cookie sheet. I make little buns for my little ones and big buns for my big ones.

Day50_e_Rise

This should make 6-8 buns, depending on your preference.

Cover and let them rise another 90 minutes

 

Heat your oven to 350°

Brush your buns with melted butter.

Bake for 18-20 minutes, until they’re golden brown.

Remove from the oven, give them another butter brush and let them cool…

 

Day50_g_Cool

Slice, fill, eat.

Day50_h_Enjoy

Enjoy.


 

Day 49: Bearing Broken

Day 49: Bearing Broken

Day49_Repair

 

Things break.

simple things, like glass and plans.

 fleshy things, like heart and heroism.

 weighty things, like platinum and promises.

Not everything
that should
stay in tact,
does.

 

And I could spend too much time chewing on the WHY things break

misuse
neglect
age
overuse
recklessness

but that would only distract from the real question:

 Can broken things be fixed?

 

“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.”
Louise Erdrich, The Painted Drum

 

Day49_FallenApples


Day 48: What Art Does Not Do

Day 48: What Art Does Not Do

Art
does
not
solve
the
problem.


Art presents the question

and from the question comes response.

If the response is ANGER, the problem grows.
If the response is NEGLECT, the problem festers.
If the response is DIALOGUE, the problem is exposed

and becomes opportunity

for discussion

for understanding

for healing

for progress

for empathy

for knowledge

for peace.

Day48_ManMeetsArt