by Krista | Aug 18, 2014 | Winter
“Colors shone with exceptional clarity in the rain.
The ground was a deep black,
the pine branches a brilliant green,
the people wrapped in yellow looking like special spirits that were allowed to wander over the earth on rainy mornings only.”
Haruki Murakami
I don’t know of anything more luscious than rain after a drought.
We’ve had a terrible drought here in Southern Queensland. The normally green hills and valleys of our farmyard have withered and burnt away to bare dirt and brittle, brown grass. Farmers are having to sell off or give away their stock because there’s no water or feed for them. Some have no choice but to kill them. Fields are barren and hay prices have sky-rocketed. Just looking outside makes me thirsty, and I’ve had to go to my gardens every day to remind myself what green looks like. It’s a difficult time for those living off the land.
But this weekend it rained. Beautiful, gentle, exquisitely wet rain. I couldn’t bear to turn on music or movies for I just wanted to listen to it falling on our tin roof, a steady dance reminding me that all was not lost. That maybe, just maybe, we will have a reprieve.
And of course I had to walk in it.
It’s still winter so I bundled up to keep warm as the rain fell, drenching my hair and glossing my rubber boots. I headed straight for the gardens to see what they looked like in the rain.
It seemed like everything had grown an inch or two since the rain arrived. The bok choy had turned from wilted to perky, its leaves tall and strong, its heart a collection of rain drops and new buds.
I let one of my bok choy go to seed so I could see what it looked like. This, if you’ve never seen it, is the flower of the bok choy. Isn’t it cheerful?
The radishes are flourishing, almost ready to be pulled out and scrubbed for lunch. The snow peas are producing at last and Bear and I stood in the shelter of the shed to munch on the first few pods washed clean by the rain.
I love these gorgeous Dutch pea vines with their beautiful purple blossoms. I can’t wait to see the peas themselves, with their amethyst colored pods filled with bright green peas.
We still have a few oranges on our trees and I hope to pick them this week and juice them for breakfast.
The asparagus is shooting up almost before my very eyes. I pick it in late afternoon, eating it where I stand, and by the next day there are 4-5 more spears ready to eat. Marvelous.
A rainy weekend calls for celebratory comfort food. Bear was craving something coffee-flavored, so I experimented and came up with these Coffee Chocolate Cream Scones. We had them fresh out of the oven with the dark chocolate chunks still melting and gooeey, and later cooled, spread with thick layers of salted butter. Either way they were moist, tender, and delicious.
What is your favorite comfort food on a rainy day?
Coffee Chocolate Cream Scones
makes 8 scones
Ingredients:
2 cups plain white flour
1/4 cup white sugar
3 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup dark chocolate, cut in pieces
1 1/4 cups coconut cream (or heavy cream)
2-3 Tbsp instant coffee granules
1-2 Tbsp milk (for brushing)
1 Tbsp raw sugar (for sprinkling)
Directions:
- Preheat oven to 425 F (250 C)
- Whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and chocolate.
- In small bowl stir together coconut cream and coffee granules until granules dissolve and cream is soft brown.
- Add coconut cream to flour mixture and stir gently until well-incorporated.
- Knead gently in the bowl, just until mixture holds together.
- Turn out onto floured surface and shape into circle 1-inch thick.
- Cut into 8 wedges and place on baking paper lined baking sheet.
- Brush tops with milk and sprinkle with raw sugar.
- Bake 15-20 minutes until tops are browned and sides not doughy.
- Serve warm or cold with butter.
by Krista | Aug 11, 2014 | Winter
“Home is the nicest word there is.”
Laura Ingalls Wilder
In the midst of the overwhelming horrors in Gaza, Iraq, Syria, Ukraine, etc, there are two things I’m especially thankful for this week: home and HONY.
Home has never been so precious to me as it is now, as I see so many people without a home to go to. Their homes have been abandoned to preserve their lives, destroyed in bombings, taken by those who think they have the right to steal the possessions, security, and humanity of others.
And I ache for the terrifying sense of displacement they must feel, the utter loss of belonging and community and security, the agony of separation from their loves, the deep fear as they look forward, not knowing where to go or what to do.
As I grieve for them from afar, feeling small, helpless, angry, and sad, I turn to the stories of HONY for comfort, hope, and assurance that even in the midst of cruelty, there is much goodness.
HONY is normally a site that captures the oh-so-relate-able humanity of people on the streets of New York City through poignant photos and moving stories. This week the photographer is in Iraq, bringing the griefs, joys, hopes, longings, doubts, questions, and fears of Iraqis to the light, revealing the common things that connect us all no matter where we’re from, no matter what we’re going through. If you can, visit the HONY Facebook page and see a side to this country that most of us have never seen.
Today Bear and I were out and about for appointments in different towns. As we drove around I kept thinking how lucky we were to have a home to go back to. A place that is ours, a haven of safety where we can rest, relax, be ourselves, and build whatever life we see fit.
I could hardly wait to get back, to be in our house, on our land, the place where we belong. We both spent the afternoon outside, giving cuddles to the dogs, laughing at the chickens, throwing extra pellets to the goats, wandering through the gardens to see what plants had shot up overnight.
I felt indescribably grateful, my breath catching at little vignettes of beauty around me: fennel fronds covered in water droplets glistening in the sun, frilly heads of kale pushing up through golden straw, our youngest chickens laying their first tiny eggs.
And this sense of belonging, safety, and connection is what I wish for all of us. ALL of us. Israeli and Palestinian, Christian and Muslim, Ukrainian and Russian, refugee and citizen. I have no idea how to make it happen, but maybe, by highlighting our shared humanity as HONY is doing, the divides between us will shrink, and strong, brave, powerful people will find a way to build peace.
I hope so.
As I hope for peace and healing in the broken places of this world, I will nourish kindness and generosity of spirit in my own heart and celebrate every bit of good I can find: the first stalks of asparagus in my garden, kind friends and neighbors, a country where I get to live in freedom and safety.
What bits of goodness can you see in your world today? xo
by Krista | Aug 7, 2014 | Winter
These days my body may be present, but my mind is most often found dreaming amongst old black and white photographs, my eyes squinting over the tiny print of weathered newspapers from the 1800’s, my fingers galloping over computer keys as I transcribe story after story in preparation for the first draft of my history book.
Life thought it would be hilarious to choose this time for me to receive word that I need to gather documents, paperwork, and police checks for round two of my Australian Visa, file taxes in both America and Australia, and get a stack of new (and very welcome!) writing assignments. It’s pure craziness around here, but I’m so thankful for the work and such a peaceful place to get it all done in.
With everything piling up at once, I’ve been struggling with fear. Fear of failure, fear of success, fear of my body giving out before I’ve done everything I need to. So I loved reading this passage by Neil Gaiman today:
“I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.
Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You’re doing things you’ve never done before, and more importantly, you’re Doing Something.
So that’s my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody’s ever made before. Don’t freeze, don’t stop, don’t worry that it isn’t good enough, or it isn’t perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.
Whatever it is you’re scared of doing, Do it.
Make your mistakes, next year and forever.”
Especially this line: “Don’t freeze, don’t stop, don’t worry that it isn’t good enough, or it isn’t perfect, whatever it is.”
Such words take all the stress out of me and help me breathe again, help me focus and just do the next thing the best way I know how.
And they help me remember that (especially) when life gets crazy, self-care is vital.
So I get up early and make time to write and think and read just for me.
I go for a walk every day.
I make food that is both delicious and nourishing: roasted carrots, pulled pork, fresh strawberries, homemade bread.
I yank myself out of writer mode to give Bear hugs and share cuppas and go see the projects he’s been working on.
I connect with people I love, even if it’s just a one sentence email or a quick phone call.
And I try to photograph something beautiful each day: hollyhocks in the morning sun, baby goats with velvety muzzles, vegetables heaped in baskets and bowls.
It makes me smile.
How do you care for your self when life gets a bit wild? xo
by Krista | Aug 3, 2014 | Winter
Knowing I had a busy week ahead of me, I set aside this weekend for much-needed naps, reading, watching new-to-me episodes of Poirot, Miss Marple, and New Tricks, working in my garden, and spending time with good friends.
It was just what I needed and I’m ready to face this crazy week of finishing manuscripts, doing Australian and American taxes, and scurrying around collecting paperwork, fingerprints, police checks and character references for Phase Two of my Australian Immigration.
It was such a good weekend, cold but beautiful. Our friends, Shaun and Stacey, drove in from out of town to spend the day with us and we had so much fun.
Bear and Shaun hauled out their medieval swords, shields, and armor and had a marvelous time bashing each other, later regaling Stacey and I with animated play-by-plays of their best moves.
Stacey and I talked about planting tea gardens with real tea bushes and other plants that make wonderful additions to tea such as jasmine, bergamot, and hibiscus. Bear was on the phone to the nursery the very next day to order Camellia sinensis bushes – the plant that produces all of the world’s commercial teas, including white, green, oolong and black teas. We are so excited to grow and harvest our own tea!!
When we weren’t swapping stories and touring gardens and chook pens, we were out in the goat pen laughing and sighing happily over our 15 Kalahari kids.
They are so soft and cuddly at this age, and so adorable it hurts. I love watching their curious selves toddle bravely towards us for a sniff and an inspection before galloping off to join their mates in playing king of the castle on a fallen log.
Their cute little faces just kill me and their antics had us laughing so hard. Stacey warned us that she’d purposely left the car window open in hopes of one or two of our babies leaping in to go home with them.
Alas, none of them fell prey to her scheme, so she had to content herself with cuddles.
On cold winter days you have to take lots of breaks for cuppas and treats. The guys moved a table out into the sunshine and we clustered round, chatting up a storm as we warmed our hands around hot mugs of tea and coffee and noshed on Cranberry Pecan Cinnamon Rolls slathered with salted butter.
Cinnamon Rolls are pure Canadian comfort food to me. The smell of butter, cinnamon, and brown sugar makes me think of sunny Saturday mornings with everyone still in their pjs. Traditionally they’re stuffed with raisins and brown sugar, but I wanted to jazz mine up a bit so I used Dark Muscovado sugar mixed with tart dried cranberries and crunchy toasted pecans. I may never go back to the original.
What is your favorite comfort food for a Saturday morning breakfast with good friends?
Cranberry Pecan Cinnamon Rolls
Makes 12
Ingredients:
1 batch bread dough of your choice (I add 1 Tbsp sugar, 1 tsp allspice, and 1/2 cup dried cranberries to my favorite bread dough recipe)
1 cup Dark Muscovado Sugar
1 cup dried cranberries
1 cup pecans, chopped
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 cup butter, melted
Directions:
- Preheat oven to 375 F (200 C).
- Line baking tray with baking paper, set aside.
- In medium bowl, mix together Muscovado sugar, cranberries, pecans, cinnamon, and melted butter until crumbly. Set aside.
- On lightly floured surface, press or roll dough into rectangle about 1/2 inch thick.
- Cover surface with cranberry and nut mixture. Spread to edges.
- At long end, carefully ease edge of dough off the counter and roll into a log, tucking in bits of fruit and nuts that escape. Seal log along long side.
- Using a sharp knife or piece of string, cut off rounds and place in baking tray, each round just touching the one next to it.
- Cover cinnamon rolls with dish cloth and leave in warm place 30-40 minutes until risen.
- Place in hot oven and bake 12-15 minutes until tops are golden brown.
- Serve warm (or room temperature) with plenty of salted butter.
by Krista | Aug 1, 2014 | Winter
“Don’t let yourself feel worthless…
at fifteen you had the radiance of early morning,
at twenty you will begin to have the melancholy brilliance of the moon,
and when you are my age you will give out, as I do, the genial golden warmth of 4 p.m.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald
Yesterday I experienced “the genial golden warmth of 4 p.m.” in all its burnished shimmering beauty. It is such a scrumptious time of day, a time for sinking into a cozy chair on the veranda and soaking up warmth and light and quiet. Hearing mid-life described that way makes me smile.
Bear and I took a drive yesterday, pottering along from one stop to the next. We had breakfast together in a sunshiny nook, stopped at the feed store and hardware store to pick up bits and bobs for the farm, and whipped in to a nursery at the last minute when we saw a sign that said: “large blueberry plants: $10”.
I was enchanted by this little orange tree fruiting so abundantly against a weathered wood wall.
And these brilliant poppies bobbing jauntily in the wind, turning their faces to the sun.
We chose a couple of flowering blueberries and some table grapes and said hello to the sweet gray and white cat who trailed after us. The owner instructed us on the best soil for our new plants and bid us a cheery farewell.
Down the road a bit further we stopped for petrol and I made a beeline for the Used Book Box. The local library set up this box at the petrol station in Allora. You can rummage through the books and magazines, choose what you like, and leave a donation in the attached money box. I think it’s a marvelous thing to have at a petrol station and I’m always finding treasures there, like this book by Peter Mayle. It is perfect escapist reading for sunny winter afternoons.
By the time we got home I was ready for a break. My new treatment is working well but leaves me exhausted by early afternoon. A regular stop from my labors for a rest soon puts me to rights. This time I collected my new books, poured an Apple Champagne Spritzer with homemade cider, and found a sunny spot on the veranda to warm and relax my bones. Bliss.
Today is blustery but beautiful. I’ll be bottling my homemade cider vinegar, getting the last of the laundry on the line, transcribing late submissions for the history book, and making cinnamon rolls to share with friends this weekend. I love days like this, quiet, happy, and nourishing.
What is a favorite golden moment from your week? xo
It’s still winter so I bundled up to keep warm as the rain fell, drenching my hair and glossing my rubber boots. I headed straight for the gardens to see what they looked like in the rain.
I let one of my bok choy go to seed so I could see what it looked like. This, if you’ve never seen it, is the flower of the bok choy. Isn’t it cheerful?
The radishes are flourishing, almost ready to be pulled out and scrubbed for lunch. The snow peas are producing at last and Bear and I stood in the shelter of the shed to munch on the first few pods washed clean by the rain.
I love these gorgeous Dutch pea vines with their beautiful purple blossoms. I can’t wait to see the peas themselves, with their amethyst colored pods filled with bright green peas.
We still have a few oranges on our trees and I hope to pick them this week and juice them for breakfast.
The asparagus is shooting up almost before my very eyes. I pick it in late afternoon, eating it where I stand, and by the next day there are 4-5 more spears ready to eat. Marvelous.
A rainy weekend calls for celebratory comfort food. Bear was craving something coffee-flavored, so I experimented and came up with these Coffee Chocolate Cream Scones. We had them fresh out of the oven with the dark chocolate chunks still melting and gooeey, and later cooled, spread with thick layers of salted butter. Either way they were moist, tender, and delicious.
What is your favorite comfort food on a rainy day?
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