3 Day Weekend

I was looking forward to Columbus Day weekend and doing a little extra cooking.  I find it relaxing. 

I poached some salmon.  I love cold poached salmon over salad.  Since I don't poach salmon often, I often look up a few poaching recipes on the internet.  I then adapt it based on what I have in the refrigerator.    On this particular day, the poaching liquid included water, hard apple cider in place of white wine, lemon, pepper, dried basil leaves, allspice and a little Old Bay seasoning because I'm from Maryland.   I made a salad with mixed field greens, sliced almonds, mandarin oranges and raisins.  The only thing missing was a little blue cheese or feta cheese.   The salmon in the picture below looks more like chicken. 

I made some chicken soup.  I buy the chicken breasts with the bone in and the skin on as these tend to be very moist when boiled.  It also produces better stock.  The breasts in this package were so big that I decided to cook one and freeze the other two.  I add the chicken breast to a large pot of water.  I boil it until the breast is fork tender or falling off of the bone.  After cooling, I leave the stock in the pot.  I take out the chicken, remove the skin and bones and cut the chicken up into small chunks.  I bring the stock back up to boil, throw the chicken back in add a small package of frozen mixed vegetables.  I add a can of cream of mushroom soup.  For seasoning I add, salt, pepper and of course...Old Bay.  I also add a little sugar.  I allow this to boil moderately for about half an hour.   I remembered that I had some Mary Hill frozen dumplings in the freezer.  I cut them in half and drop them in one at a time.  I allow the pot to simmer for another 30 minutes. 

A couple of years ago, I was in the produce section of the grocery store.  This cute little old lady with a head of white hair started talking to me.  This is what happens if you linger in the produce section too long.   I know we were hovering over the fresh corn.  I mentioned that I probably would make some creamed corn.  She mentioned that she was going to bake it in the oven.  What?  How do you do that?  Lil ole lady breaks up the ear of corn in half or thirds.  She also cuts up other veggies such as asparagus and tomatoes.  She places her veggies on a pan and adds balsamic vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper.  She mixes it up and sticks it in the oven for about 15 or 20 minutes.  This is my version below which has eggplant, tomatoes, red onions, okra and zucchini.  I also add fresh garlic and season it with salt, pepper and dried basil.  But this time, no Old Bay seasoning.  I bake it on 400 for about 20-30 minutes. 

Sunday Get Away

Last Sunday I headed to Rome, Georgia for a reprieve and to visit Moriah.  Moriah is a sophomore in college.  When I was in my twenties, I lived with her family for about a year.  Moriah has two older sibblings and one younger sibbling.  I've known all of them since their birth.  When I was twentysomething, it never occured to me that one day I'd be visiting these same babies at college. 

I got in my car and headed north of Atlanta.  It was a beautiful and outstanding day.  I recently purchased a Garmin GPS unit because I was sick and tired of getting lost when I ventured into unknown territories. I put in the address of my location and merrily and trustingly went on my way.

Garmin told me to get off at exit 285 (I-75 North).  I went down some long and winding roads.  It was quite scenic.  Was Garmin leading me in the right direction?   Why didn't the exit sign say Rome? 

Once I saw cotton fields I knew I was going in the wrong direction.  I called Moriah.  She said, Oh Lord, Miss Karen!  I don't know where you are but we always take exit 290.   So I got back onto I-75 heading north.  I didn't need to buy a GPS unit to get lost. 

I made it to my destination.  Moriah jumped into the car and we went to get some food.  When I asked Moriah about restaurants she said, Now Miss Karen, I know you like to do the local thing but there aren't any good local restaurants in Rome.  So we ate at Chilli's and it was good.  We then headed to downtown Rome.  I wanted to check out The Old Town Clock. 

I hoped that we would be able to walk up to the top and view the city below but the doors were padlocked.

The Old Town Clock is on the National Register of Historic Places.

We hung around and took pictures.  Moriah...

 

 Me, AKA Miss Karen...



 The Fall leaves...

We left the clock, drove around and stopped here and there.  I took too many pictures to share.  Sometimes, when I paused to take another picture, Moriah said, OhLordMissKaren!  Moriah had my mouth watering about a downtown local bakery which we discovered was closed on Sundays.  From there we went to Jandy's for frozen yogurt.  That place was fun and delicious.  We also visited Berry College located on 26,000 acres - where there were many bicycles and few cars and the shiny black cattle looked relaxed and happy. 

We made it back to Moriah's campus and hung out for awhile.  I met her friends, roomate and suitemates.  She lovingly introduced me as her godmother.  I consider godchildren to be those that God has placed in your life that you are to watch over, support, pray for, mentor, guide, love and assist as they grow and develop.  I'm fortunate to be considered in that way.  We talked about everything, something and nothing.  It was a perfect day. 

Your Life Calling You Today

Your Life Calling TODAY with Jane Pauley is a series of human interest stories of people making drastic career and life changes later in life. The series is sponsored by AARP and runs on the Today Show. I’ve caught a few of them while getting dressed for work in the morning.

Although the series is aimed at baby boomers (those born 1943-1960), I believe that anyone can glean from these pearls of wisdom. It is a reminder that no matter where you are in life, reinvention is always an option. If you find yourself unhappy, bored, depressed, unmotivated, lost or unchallenged – do something about it. It’s your life.

Even for a young graduate making their way in the world, you may feel 100% sure about what you want to do for the rest of your life. Just keep in mind that with experience, events, knowledge and time - one day you may feel 100% sure that you no longer want to do that very thing that you were once 100% sure about. If you are young and you have no idea what you want to do, there’s nothing wrong with that either. You don't have to feel pressured into selecting the perfect job for friggin forever!     

Here are some of my favorite quotes from Rick Rittmaster whose life was calling him.  View his story here. 

If we are feeding our soul it is going to be green and vibrant and growing.  If we are not engaged in the alignment of things that really give us life we dry out.

I didn't have a plan or a roadmap but I was committed to paying attention. 

As odd as it may sound, to me it was full of God's grace.  I got to exercise my gifts and skills in a way that I never could have envisioned before.

Is your life calling and will you answer? 

TGIF (Thank God It's Fall)

Fall is my favorite season. I like everything about the Fall. The colors, the coolness and the start of the holiday season. My favorite holiday, Thanksgiving, is in the Fall. It is the one holiday where nobody really wants anything from anybody other than their love, friendship and maybe their food.

I enjoy walking in the Fall. I like the chill in the air and the crunchy sound of leaves beneath my feet. There’s this wonderful woodsy smell in the air that shows up in the Fall. I expect the alluring sweetness of the Spring vegetation. Yet, I’m still surprised that its Fall decay also provides a welcoming and pleasant aroma.

I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house. So I spend almost all the daylight hours in the open air. - Nathaniel Hawthorne 

One of my favorite walking places is Arabia Mountain. I mean walking in a Henry David Thoreau kind of way. The trail goes on forever behind neighborhoods, into woods, alongside streams and amidst wildflowers. I’ve gone there with my walking buddy Arlene. We talk, we walk and pause to admire a flower, leaf or tree. I’m not one to walk trails alone mostly for safety reasons.  Besides, I tend to get creeped out rather easily. Alone, any of nature’s sounds trigger a sensation that something is after me -  like a Freddy Krueger or a crazed wild boar frothing at the mouth.

An early-morning walk is a blessing for the whole day. - Henry David Thoreau 

I like the sense of transition that Fall brings. As children, my mother would send us on several trips to the basement to retrieve our Fall and Winter clothing. My mother would also take down her light and summery yellow and white kitchen curtains. I remember watching their whimsical movements against the air when the windows were open. In the Fall, their brown and white replacements were sturdy and protective against that same air.  In my own way, I do the same. I move clothes from one bedroom to another. I place a Fall wreath on the front door and just below, two planters full of mums.

Autumn - the reprieve from Summer. - Mike Garofalo

I like that things are coming to a close. I’m grateful for the seasons of life. We need things to begin. We need things to end.  And Fall is that reminder.  Thank God for the Fall.

Autumn, the year's last, loveliest smile. - William Cullen Bryant 

Arabia Mountain Trail - Fall 2010

Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all. - Stanley Horowitz 

To Die All Alone

Karen, I really don’t want you to die all alone. This is what someone at work has said to me way too many times. Let’s call her Gladys. I’m always stumped when Gladys says this to me. I guess I look stumped because Gladys always adds, I’m serious Karen, I think you are attractive and a very nice lady and I would really hate for you to end up all alone. Oh, that’s better. I feel so much better now.

Gladys and I talk about a number of things at work, including men.  Gladys loves to ask me about my dating life. I would liken it to the way a parent checks in on their child about homework– especially the child that has proven that she does not like homework. I think Gladys wants to keep dating on the forefront of my mind. She’s actually told me that I’m not trying hard enough to meet someone. She says this in a not so jokingly way. She’s sort of laughing but her expression lacks humor. Her eyes are a bit narrowed as she looks me up and down.

Much later in the day, I try to come up with some great one-liners to shut Gladys up. After 2.5 minutes, I give up. I give up because I would rather be doing something else. I give up because I won’t remember that particular one-liner in the moment. There are many one-liners that naturally come to mind in the moment. None of these would be appropriate in a professional setting. Besides, I like Gladys. She isn’t the anti-Christ.

What do people generally mean when they say that they don’t want to die all alone? I’ve never thought about dying alone. I don’t spend much time thinking about dying except when I’m about to board an airplane. Even in the midst of turbulence, I’m pretty resolved that death would be pretty quick. But anyway, I’ve never associated being unmarried with dying alone. Maybe the phrase holds no more value than the words of a dumb donkey.

Dying alone could mean that when I take my very last breath on this earth, I will not have a husband sitting bedside, lovingly looking into my eyes as tears slowly fall from his eyes. If that’s what dying alone means - than most people, regardless of their relationship status, will die alone. If one were to look at the statistics, women outlive men by 5-10 years. This applies throughout the world. This means that most women, throughout the world, will definitely die alone.

Dying alone could mean that I will live the rest of my life without being married or partnered in some way. So, in a weird way, Gladys and others aren’t talking about dying but living alone, especially as I enter the Fall and Winter of my life. I guess this is where the image comes in of a woman alone in a house with a bunch of cats. I’ve never thought that securing a boyfriend, partner or husband was an unattainable feat. However, to be in a healthy, stable, and lasting relationship with two like-minded individuals with similar values…that just might take awhile. I admit it might take some longer than others especially if they aren’t just dying to be married.

And just the other day, several weeks after I started writing about this, Gladys and I were talking. This time, it was actually about work. As I turned to leave her office she says to me, Wait a minute Karen, now just hold up…just what is going on with your dating! This time, I whipped myself around. I leaned over her and with the crazy face said, I know Gladys, I know…you just don’t want me to die all alone! I get it!!! Rather meekly, Gladys says, Well…I’m sorry Karen…I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry. She looked confused.  I gave her one last look.  Regally, I turned and walked out the door.

Murphy's Review

Murphy's is located in the Virginia Highland community in Atlanta.  I've been a patron for at least ten years or longer.  Breakfast, lunch and dinner - the food is consistently good.  The neighborhood is very quaint and comprised of old bungalow homes and a lot of boutique shops.  One of the bungalows used to be an independent bookstore.   I would stay in there for hours with its creaky door which summoned the owner - a very sweet, creaky-lookin' man.  Of course, it's closed now and I always think about it when I visit this part of town. 

I met my friend Karen on a Saturday morning at 9 a.m. and we both were able to park right in front of the restaurant.  It is in an intown location that is very popular, so coming later in the day means parallel parking and some walking. 

Just outside of Murphy's is a marquee with a map of the community. 

Murphy's is  rustic, cozy and warm.   I love the amber hues and exposed brick throughout the restaurant.  The rustic feel from the inside extends to the outside seating area where we sat.  Not all restaurants do this successfully as their outside seating is more of an afterthought. 

  

We both selected the Portobello Frittata.  For the first time, in a long time, I actually made my decision quickly.  I've had very few frittatas in my life.  It was wonderful.  The portobello mushrooms, goat cheese, sun-dried tomatoes and  basil pesto were a great combination.  The frittata was served alone.  I ordered a side of cheddar grits.  This was before I knew that they bring out a basket with warmed delectables from the bakery.  In the spirit of a little restraint, I tried a piece of a scone that was in the basket and it was divine.  I glanced at the other items in the basket.  I quickly covered it up, pushed it aside and looked away. 

The cheddar grits were delicious. They were very cheesy and creamy. I think I've ordered cheddar grits  a lot lately. I'll keep that in mind next time around.

Karen ordered the same frittata but with egg whites.  She enjoyed her meal.  She showed a lot of restraint and did not order a side item or rummage through the bakery basket. 

Murphy's brunch is very good and I would recommend it.  The coffee was also good and hot.  However, I really like their dinner menu.  I remember ordering pan seared trout when I was there years ago and it was amazing. 

In this day and time, websites are very important.   Murphy's website is classy, user-friendly and a good representation of their business.  I've been to good restaurants with bad websites.  It makes me wonder about the owner and their business acumen.

Murphy's  is located in a historic community that offers good food and  shopping.  It would be a cool place to hang out for a couple of hours.  The first hour you would spend eating and the next hour you can check out the shops in the neighborhood.  After that, I'm not sure if there is much more to do. 

Sunday Mornings

So, it is Sunday morning. And it is quiet. I’m in my bedroom and the only sound I hear is the cool air coming through the ceiling vent. When you live in Atlanta, and it is July, that is one of the most beautiful sounds to hear.

Most Sunday mornings for most of my life was spent in church. At times, I’ve wondered if I might have been born in church even if my birth certificate says some hospital in Baltimore. Somewhere in my late thirty’s, my church attendance had severely fallen off. If I had the ability to step out of myself and really see myself objectively, I would have seen this coming. Years before that, I had stopped hanging onto every word that the preacher said, and more importantly, realized that nothing bad happened to me if I didn’t. Obviously, this would affect what one would do on a Sunday morning.

This particular morning I feel good. The last few days, I’ve been upset off and on by a variety of happenings not worthy of the stroke of a pen. Ok, who am I kidding? I took my pen and wrote all about it -angrily, aggressively, hopelessly and tearfully. On and on I wrote, but at some point, I turned the corner. I had to. Just let it go.

When I wake up feeling this good, I try to hold on to it as long as possible. After all, it is Sunday morning. I don’t have to be bothered today. I can easily put myself in time out away from people, place and things –a joy easily afforded to me as one who is single. Of course, this also means staying away from all forms of media with its weird interpretations of life. So why not cook, write or both? John Gunther said that all happiness begins with a leisurely breakfast.

This Sunday morning, I fix French toast and bacon. I make the French toast from the wheat bread I just bought from the DeKalb Farmer’s Market. The bacon, I cook in the oven which makes life easier for me and enhances its flavor. I top the French toast with fresh blueberries, half a sliced banana and some cinnamon maple syrup. I pour a little orange juice into a small glass. I brew some Kenyan coffee, also from the farmer’s market.

I sit at my kitchen table in silence and slowly enjoy every morsel. I look at my balcony. I should get some pansies for the balcony planters. I’ve had this thought since March. There are a number of planters sitting on my deck. Some are stacked and empty and others are full of dirt or full of weeds. It’s an organized mess. I shift my eyes away from that project because I am in time out. I look at this tree that begins just outside my back door and whose branches fully extend over into my balcony. It then continues up to the third floor and obstructs my view of the courtyard from my bedroom window.

On many Sunday mornings I’ve thought about this tree. I remember when the tree didn’t and couldn’t reach the second floor. When I moved into this new community over five years ago, I was aware of the tree but didn’t think much about it. It was nothing to me. It was just like all of the other trees in my community. I would often think how sparse, how insufficient and how poor the greenery of this place. They should have done a better job in planning. But that was my perspective then and I was fully ignorant. I didn’t take into consideration time and it is always a great revealer.

So, it is Sunday morning. It isn’t so quiet anymore. I’m back in my bedroom. There is the sound of the air from overhead, the laundry rhythmically swishing back and forth, and of course, the talking tree.