Because I Fainted in the School Cafeteria…

So, it’s a 95 degree day.

And you are really an Arctic dweller in disguise, living in Southern California.

And you’ve been known to faint.

And the latex gloves just feel so hot! And the Sweet Potato fries that you’re serving to fourth graders are even hotter!

Fast forward to the nurse’s office, and there I am, stretched out with a bag of ice on my head and a fifth grader on the other cot with a toothache. That was after Scene Number Two. And The Wheelchair.

Ha! It all passed, and I was humiliated, and the Meyers, new to the school, are now even more infamous than that first day when I caused Scene Number One.

Cookies to the rescue. I baked up some salted butter hearts, and wrapped them with ridiculous notes of how I’d be volunteering in the school library from now on, thank you!

And delivered three bundles.

One, to Josie The Nurse, who did the wheeling. Two, to Chef Laurel, who didn’t need my kind of volunteer in her kitchen. And three, to the Asst Principal who was there with her Walkie Talkie when I told her I wanted to lay down on the cafeteria floor and disappear.

One of my favorite givings of the year. Unplanned, but kinda needed.

Cheers, friends!

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You-Can-Do-It Bread!

My parents, who were born and raised on the westside of Los Angeles, moved to Santa Barbara a year and a half ago. They purchased a home near us where they knew they could have a lovely garden, and chickens, far from the craziness of westside traffic, where driving has become a sport for some, and almost war-like for others.

But in order to have the garden and those chickens, they had to make their home live-able. With no bedrooms on the ground floor, they embarked on a remodeling adventure that still isn’t over!

So close, though.

For all of this time they’ve lived virtually out of a suitcase, but just last week the final round of their things from storage arrived. What a big task, to sort and question, and figure out how to make this new home theirs, and what to do with all the Stuff!

To encourage them, we’ve been having them to our home for meals for these 18 months–not every night, but often. And though their home isn’t quite finished, we decided to barbecue at their place to mark the progress of it being Almost Done! My dad is a breadmonger, being a baker and all, and he really doesn’t eat a meal without a piece of bread near his plate. So I mixed up a batch of country French–a blend of white flour, freshly ground kamut, and rye, with some sourdough starter thrown in for flavor. We toted it over to their place, then I took the loaf for a quick tour of their new home. The real housewarming will come when the landscaping is done and all the furniture is placed, but here’s a glimpse into their current world–mess and stuff and all. (Made complete by the visiting neighbor dog, Puppy, who literally roams where she likes and spends at least half her day inspecting the workers and their work…)

Cheers, friends!

 

The Piano Teacher

Perhaps you had a less-than-inspirational piano teacher as a child? No? I’m so pleased. Music should be taught with encouragement, passion, praise and love!

I caught my little one recently on film in the middle of his lesson with our lovely teacher from outside the front window.

And then I snuck inside and snapped another photo as they worked on yet more theory.

And then I took a hot loaf of sourdough from the oven and offered it to Miss Katie as she left the house after a productive lesson.

Music is a language I believe in–and though one loaf of bread is only a small thanks, it is something that I can do right now during this busy time…

Did you know? My daughter learned to play the piano well enough to accompany herself and do this–in just one year? We purchased a piano and started her with lessons when she was fourteen. It’s never too late, friends!

Also, we have family musicales every year or so and everyone is required to play or do something. We dress up and sip sparkling drinks and have cake. Last time I played Oh! Susannah on the harmonica! (My brother composed a poem about his new daughter titled, Ode to Miss Poopy Pants :)) Making musical memories is a must. M.M.M.M.

Lastly, the piano guys are really cool. Have you ever watched this video? It’s one of my favorites and I’m thinking that I could do a series of blog posts where I bake breads in remote, unbelievably cool places. Wouldn’t that be super fun?!!!

Hope you’re all well, dear friends! Enjoy the giving…

Piano Recital–May 2013

Sourdough and the VW Van

For several days I’ve been keeping my sourdough active, ready for the right mixing moment. Late Wednesday I decided to get my hands into some dough, and mix a batch of homemade yumminess for Thursday night. If you want sourdough from scratch, you have to think 20 hours ahead.

My arm muscles got a workout and the physical movements cleared my mind and allowed me to shift into prayer. I do love the miracle of making bread.

Fast forward hours and hours and it’s time to score, and bake, and figure out what to do with that extra loaf. I almost posted a facebook status, hoping someone would be in the neighborhood, want to swoop by, and relieve me of a giving adventure. Giving is an adventure–especially when there’s NO plan.

AHA! I thought. Three weeks ago there was a raffle at school, and my little one needed to sell tickets. We scurried door to door, and at one house we met a new family who had recently moved in. I felt awful that our first meeting was all about exchanging $10 bills, so have wanted to bring them a proper Bread Welcome. Here was our chance.

But they weren’t home. At this point, I honestly wanted to return to the house and settle back into introvert world. I prefer weeding over meeting new people.

But we spied a gentleman down the road who was tinkering with the engine of his VW van. John Ronan was at my side, and he bounded down the road, shouting out hellos. I followed with a bagged loaf of bread. (Isn’t it pretty?!!!)

Twenty minutes later, after a full tour of the VW van, its two sleeping compartments, a peek at the engine, a few stories of trips to Canada and Mexico, some fiddling with the cool cup holders, radio, etc and a last exchange about my daughter who plays piano at all hours and whom the neighbors adore… well, I finally dragged the little one away, promising we’d return another time for another van adventure. We had met a new friend, put a name to a face of a man we’ve been living near for over a dozen years… Once again, this giving proves…

That chatting with neighbors is better than weeding!

That giving is better than just about anything…

Cheers, friends!

Hang In There Bread

I spotted my priest, Father Nicholas, spooning strawberry jam onto a store bought white thing that resembled bread. That was midday Monday. That was his lunch…

It’s Wednesday and I’ve been thinking about that moment ever since. When I realized I’d have a few hours to bake today, I knew who needed a fresh ring of rosemary rolls, and a jar of homemade kumquat marmalade (so good!). He’s an incredible faster, that man, but I don’t want him to tumble from the altar with so many services left to go!

[Be Gone–you old, preservative-filled white bread, kept in the church refrigerator!]

Rosemary rolls, and kumquat marmalade–to be handed over after unction tonight.

It’s Holy Week for us Orthodox–blessings to all of you who are in the midst of this beauty.

For those in Fort Collins, our old home town, digging out from the snow storm–I send you good wishes for an AMAZING summer (in which all of your vegetables grow enormous and every day brings sun and respite).

And to the rest of you lovely folk, near and far–Cheers and happy baking and giving!

Nicole

It’s easy to make new friends on facebook, or twitter, or pinterest, or instagram, isn’t it? Friend requests come flowing in and I think–wow, if they lived next door, would they really want to be my friend? ! 🙂 Since I have neighbors who seem terribly uninterested in striking up a friendship with me or my boisterous family, I’m thinking the distance of my computer to yours has a lot to do with the courage folks seem to have in seeking out new people to correspond with…

Over the years, especially through the online work I do with Conciliar Press and other writers, I’ve made lots of real friends that I’ve never actually met in person. These people are dear to me, and if we ever have the chance to meet face-to-face there will be shouts and hugs and much admiring that other three-dimensional being.

But the other online state of friendship has more to do with pithy comments and pressing little hearts as likes. It’s just a bit of fun, and if I happened upon some of these folks on the street I might not know what to do with them! 🙂

All this to say, I’m proud of Nicole, and pretty pleased with myself, too, that the two of us decided to meet and say hello. We were introduced via facebook through a mutual friend–and there wasn’t really any pressing reason for us to strike up a friendship, except that we’re both part of the dying breed of redheads 🙂 And we both like books, and chocolate. (Okay, those three things might be enough!)

No matter how it happened. I mixed and molded. I baked and hip hopped across town, a loaf of warm sourdough filling the car with an almost edible odor. We sat, and chatted, and  I admired her curls, and she talked about her work as a librarian… It was lovely.

Here’s to Nicole, and hopefully many future gatherings where books are at the forefront of the conversation!

No Fooling March

It’s almost April first, and looking back on the last few weeks, I am thankful that some hard lessons learned in the past few years have given me the gumption and the experience to say NO. Do you ever get caught in that place when you have four too many things all happening at once? Or a life that resembles an over-stuffed purse? To stay sane in March, I said no to blogging, and no to volunteering at lunch hour, and no to making soup for church. I said no again and again, because if I didn’t, I’d be much thinner right now and probably a terrible mix of grumpy and sick.

I think I’m through the worst of the fire, and headed back into Yes territory. My littlest son and I have fallen into a nice routine of homeschooling in the morning (long story!!!); I get a bit of work time in the early afternoon while he’s at school, and the late afternoons are dedicated to everything family–driving hither and yon, soccer, yogurt making, laundry, searching out the rabbits from under the nasturtiums–you know!

I have been able to do a bit of baking this last week. Because Teen Star ended, and my duties as Mom Chaperone ended, and, well, my daughter/singer/performer/Miss Madeleine was AMAZING?! We wondered how she would do up on a giant stage, singing her little 16-year-old heart out, and she wozzied the crowd. That girl has guts, and charm, and a mighty big voice for her little body, and she just about won the whole crazy thing! Very fun to see someone want to do something, and then succeed. We’re so proud of how hard she worked and are praying that she will use her talent wisely…

Baking! I’m headed back on track and my first moment of giving that I want to share with you was to support a young mom who’s fighting cancer. She lives kind of far away, so some special friends volunteered to take food the 45 minutes south and fill up that family’s freezer. Pans and pans of food left town, and thankfully I was able to help with the effort and send some warm sourdough along in the car. It was a small gift, but I’m thankful I was able to give alongside so many generous others.

Moment number two and three were both mass bakings for events at church. On Friday I mixed up some molasses bread and carted that off to our akathist service followed by a soup dinner, and today I rose at 5am!!! to bake two enormous loaves of bread to support our Saint Brigid’s homeless ministry. Getting my hands and heart back into giving has made me extra grateful for the gifts I have–of family, home, friends, sunshine, bunnies, time to write, children and a husband to love, words, music, and the occasional burst of quiet. Giving brings gratitude…

So March is ticking its way out as I type. Just a little under two hours until April Fools, and who knows what tomorrow will bring? I’ve got about three dozen bread recipes I’m itching to try, and a list a mile long of people I want to give something to:

Nicole

The new guy who just bought the house on the corner who has chickens

My son’s amazing first grade teacher

The Montecito Library librarians

Kate, who is pregnant

Our mail carrier

I might even mail some cinnamon rolls to my son for Pascha…

…what about you–is this a Yes or a No season in your life?

Stealthy Valentine’s Giving!

Step One: Mix dough for chocolate shortbread cookies.

Step Two: Let the little one cut out the hearts, then bake.

Step Three: Wrap the cookies, make a little heart-shaped Happy Valentine’s Day note, tie with red ribbon.

Step Four: Put the gifts in a sweet little handmade bag for carrying.

Step Five: Scope out the neighborhood and make a plan (we decided to leave treats for those folks on our block who are single and live alone–plus give one to the Dunns, whom we love, and one to the folks who are renting on the corner).

Step Six: Sneak and tiptoe so folks don’t see us. Put the treats in mailboxes if mail hasn’t been brought in yet.

Step Seven: Slowly squeeze treats through Jack’s mail slot, but be quiet because he is home!!! And when he hears us at the door, drop the treats and…

Step Eight: Run!!!

Leave a Note

When I don’t know what to bake, when the kids aren’t asking for one thing or another, I usually err on the side of sourdough. I get to use my starter, the bread can be served with sweet (toast with cinnamon sugar, or chocolate hazelnut spread, or french toast) or it can be wonderful with savory things (soups, bruschetta, sandwich bread, as a side to Greek salad), etc… So last week I baked up some sourdough in the late afternoon and had a warm loaf to share .
My daughter gets to rock climb with school twice each week so I took a loaf to her enthusiastic instructor. It was dark, and we needed to return home quickly, so I left the bag with the bread inside, tucked under the windshield wiper of the school van. I searched and searched my car and purse for a pen or pencil so I could write something–I didn’t want it to look like leaving it was mistake, or some other misconception. But we couldn’t dredge up anything to write with. How’s that for being a writer?!

And then I forgot to call to at least let them know leaving it wasn’t an accident.

So, a week later I see the instructor and mention the bread.

SOOOOO, you are the ones who left it! The teacher said slowly. We wondered. We weren’t sure if it was for us, or??? It’s still on our kitchen counter.

I apologized, and said it might still be good for French toast, or bread pudding 🙂 He was gracious, even thankful, but stale bread? Boo…

Next time I will leave a note. I already packed an extra pen into my purse, just in case. I like pens!

And I will bake another loaf of bread for this dear man and his wife. Stale sourdough is okay, but a fresh loaf?!!!!

Cheers, Friends!

Flab.ber.gas.ted

affected with sudden and great wonder or surprise; adj.

I just love that word, flabbergasted. The person who made up that word must have been such a character! Just bump it around in your mouth… flabbergasted!

Anywho. I baked up some delicious whole grain sourdough rye last week… during a long business call. The oven would ding, and I’d make sure the callers didn’t need my input. I’d RACE, high speed into the kitchen, twenty miles an hour at least, and tug open that oven door and do what was needed. IN goes the bread, OFF come the pot lids, OUT comes the bread. That phone call just kept going on and on, and I’d say I was productive both on and off the phone!

hee hee

The bread done, and chores needing tending to, I spied my husband out front and brought him that extra loaf of gorgeous bread. Give it away, will you?  He was watering the kale and the favas. I put the bread in a red paper gift bag on the front porch. We just missed the old man with the chihuahua, he relayed back. I shrugged. My husband was a doer and he’d find a good home for that loaf of rye.

From the new bunnies (gotta show you some pictures but my poor —lousy— I’m-calling-it-names-camera is ailing), to the bills, to the dishes, to the Christmas cards (which I just started writing!), I forgot all about the bread giving. But later in the evening I got the story.

Tom, one of our favorite neighbors that we only see now and again, came a walkin’ by, and my husband asked him if he ate bread. (That seems to be my new first question, since so many in our parts are trying to do without wheat.) Tom said yes, and so the bread was snagged from the porch, presented to Tom, and that’s when the word flabbergasted seems to have been uttered. Flabbergasted. Tom was flabbergasted that we would give him a loaf of beautiful bread.

And I’m flabbergasted that we don’t give beautiful bread to one another more often! We should. Why not share in these small ways, with one another, with the folks we know just a little, but could know a little bit more.

Because without today’s giving, the word flabbergasted never would have been uttered. And that would be a shame, I believe.

Cheers to you all!