One Foot In Front of the Other

On my birthday a few weeks ago, from part way up our knob hill overlooking part of our farm, I greeted the dawn (which before Daylight Savings was around 8am here, believe it or not).

There is always a reason not to do something, isn't there? Like walking. I would rather stay in my head, in a book, in the kitchen, even doing laundry, than exercising. I expect most people feel that way (although I do think there is a natural "chip" some of us have that makes us want to just get up and go run for five miles without thinking about it...I lack that chip!). To me, thinking and writing has always been great mental exercise, but, the body needs a workout, too.

Since mid-May I have lost 40 pounds. This is huge for me (excuse the pun) because for a long time food has been my drug of choice and I just ignored the scale, so much so that I didn't even know what I weighed. In my family, that's not a good idea: while I come from some sturdy, often heavy, German stock with longevity genes on one hand, there is a high rate of cancer on the other (from "good" living but poor lifestyle choices, most often). My mother's Anglo side of the family is smaller and thinner but prone to things like high cholesterol, high blood pressure and heart attacks. So I decided, even though my blood work was fine in all ways, even the sugar, that I had no more excuses not to be as healthy physically as I possibly can. I want to turn 50 in three years with a whole new established way of living and eating–and a stronger, healthier me. There is still so much that I want to do in my life, children to raise, friends and family to love and to bother, books to write. I thank God for my many blessings, and for friends and immediate family that love me unconditionally (no matter what I look like), but I am learning to "give myself oxygen first" after many years of not bothering.

So far it has been surprisingly easy taking the first chunk of weight off because I haven't deprived myself too much but just limited portions and played games with myself ("OK you can have that piece of cake today if you don't have any sweets for the rest of the week..."). I also have good friends and a husband who have been losing, too, and there is nothing more supportive or helpful. Like with everything else, I am learning to say "no"–both to myself and to others who might want to feed me. "No thank you." Inner voices can be important in this process. I've also learned that the food will always be there again–that I don't have to eat like there's no tomorrow! In the summer months with so much fresh produce it was easy but now, with winter ahead and the inclination to make heavier meals or casseroles or to just want to carbo-load, I must take renewed action.

I've been in a bit of a plateau for a few months and basically eating whatever I want, but again, in moderation. I'm kind of in maintenance when I really should still be in kick-butt mode. Now that it is cooler and the chiggers are dormant (those things are nasty and I still have wart-like welts on my legs from where they bit this summer), I have no more excuses not to take walks around our beautiful part of the world. I'd contemplated Zumba classes and signing up at our local YMCA, but that means 20 minutes each way by car, and at a busy time of the day (evenings). We have a treadmill, and weights, but they are all "in storage" and there is no point in setting those back up until they have a final resting spot.

Walking is always so connective–with ourselves, with the landscape, with each other. So to is writing, blogging, and reading. [Over at Cupcake Chronicles we've reinvigorated our little virtual book group by reading together this month, The Help by Kathryn Stockett. Feel free to read along with us and to join the conversation.] Inner core and outer core work–that's what I need.


The puppies–John and Tom–came along, too. After all, they have free-range of the place and what dog doesn't love to walk alongside you?

So, because we now are so blessed to live on this beautiful farm near a hardly traveled ridge road and virtually our own lane that divides much of our property, there is no excuse not to be out there enjoying it as much as possible. We have glorious fields to walk in and woods roads around the farm. With the assurance that we will likely have a snow-less winter most of the time here in balmier Kentucky–yet still with the semblance of four seasons that I love–there is no reason I can't be out walking almost every day, even on our surrounding roads if necessary. Besides, it will help those winter time "blues" around less sunlight and this will help to reinvigorate our mutual family diet plan (we all like to eat and I like to cook!). Walking along altogether–with the puppies along, too–on a glorious autumn Sunday afternoon: well, it doesn't get much better than that!

Except, maybe, for the pork tenderloin dinner with summer corn, oven roasted potatoes and stir-fried green apples that we just ate...but at least we all had a nice long walk together, first. And Sundays are going to be our "cheat day"–not a complete pig out but a nice dinner, with a "sensible dessert" (is there such a thing?) and maybe a heartier breakfast, too. The rest of the week we will eat quite sensibly and minimally. And lots of walks. I think it will work.

Chasing Down the Moon: Part 4

Go expressly to enjoy the moon and it turns to tinsel,

but discover it on a necessary journey

and its beauty bathes the soul.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Tonight, no moon, but feeling moon-y...or is that moody? The full moon energy has waned into a bit of monthly weariness but then again, it's been that kind of few days. But tonight–as we drove off to a church benefit supper at twilight when the purple, advancing wall approached us from the east and to the west it was orange and luminous–I thought about a favorite book of each of our children, but especially Henry. For a year or so of each of their childhoods it became a bedtime ritual. If you do not know the book, I highly recommend it for your own children or grandchildren or even to tuck away one day "in hopes"... I have three hardbacks tucked away myself, one to give each child one day when they have families of their own, or "just because."

It is Grandfather Twilight, written and illustrated by Barbara Berger [originally published by Philomel Books in 1984 and still in print]. It is a quiet and comforting book as Grandfather pulls the night along with him through the forest until he lights his candle and goes to sleep. But first he assembles "an endless strand of pearls" and one grows bigger and bigger as he walks:

"Gently he gives the pearl to the silence above the sea..."

The moon, of course!

If I had the book handy I would photograph some of Berger's exquisite images. [We also have her The Donkey's Dream in our Christmas library.] Grandfather also looks exactly like my husband's father, who the children called "Badda," who passed away in 2001, so it seems all the more poignant as we do miss him and carry him with us always.

Henry used to call this book "Grandfather Toolight" and as I write this I realize he is a week shy of being 12–yes, that was many moons ago now when we read this story together each night. Where do all of those moons go?

When Your Eggs Crack, Make Baked Custard!

I love lemonade. I could drink it all day, all year round. Not the powdered kind but the real lemony, pulpy kind that you splash over ice or serve in a frosted glass with mint and more lemon (one reason I love Cracker Barrel™ is because they serve this kind of lemonade–they also use real maple syrup when you order their breakfasts). In fact, I'm craving some lemonade right now. Sometimes I drink our tap water (one day we will tap into our own abundant springs on the farm here...one day) with a twist of lemon or just a bit of fruit juice. It helps me to consume more water.

So, OK, this is about eggs but the point is that I've always liked that "when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade" sentiment. Sort of like "the glass is always half full" credo that I try to live by, because otherwise, what's the point? [And yeah, I've been known to play the Pollyanna "Glad Game," too. Call me sentimental.]

This afternoon when my husband brought up the basket of 18 or so eggs from our 26 hens (this seems to be their daily average) he bemoaned that he had cracked one, but just slightly so maybe I could use it in something "right away." I rolled my eyes, an art form I've perfected (just ask my husband), not really wanting to bake today. "Why don't you make baked custard?" he said, longingly, for that good old-fashioned mother-infused comfort food.

"Why not?" I thought. [You have to make what they want sometimes!]

My mother always made it in small Pyrex custard cups and when you think about it, a dessert portion back in my childhood (1962-1980, more or less, for those who are wondering)–and something we didn't have every night–was only about 1/2 cup of pudding or ice cream, maybe topped with a bit of whipped cream, if you were lucky.



I remembered a recipe in a fun little cookbook I have called The Little Big Book of Comfort Food published by Welcome Books, a division of Stewart, Tabori and Chang, as part of their series of well-crafted gift-sized books illustrated with vintage images. It's called "Baked Vanilla Pudding" and it's actually a baked custard that is creamy and doesn't separate (I believe the trick to that is the addition of extra egg yolk, as well as using scalded half-and-half vs. regular milk). PHOTO: Eli holds some of the larger eggs–two and three yolkers–that we've found since the hens began to lay in early August. One nice thing about cooking with your own eggs, from free-range hens, is that apart from their freshness, you will find the yolks to be especially large and quite yellow.

Custard is often associated with comfort food because it is basically egg, milk and a bit of sugar and was baked up as food for invalids or young children. If you like it a bit sweeter, add a bit more sugar to the recipe. Also, it is well worth using real–not imitation–vanilla, and grating a bit of nutmeg on top before baking, and serving with a dollop or squirt of whipped cream. [I use fresh grated nutmeg on and in so many things.] PHOTO: The little tiny egg is the smallest we've found in our hen house. A definite dud, more like a songbird's egg in size, so we're keeping it as is. The blue egg is from one of our Araucana hens and the brown egg could be from any of the other four varieties.



Baked Vanilla Pudding

• 3 eggs, slightly beaten
• 1 egg yolk
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 2 cups half-and-half, whole milk or skim milk, scalded
• freshly ground nutmeg to garnish

1. Put a teakettle of water on the stove to boil and preheat the oven to 325 degrees.
2. In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, egg yolk, sugar, salt and vanilla.
3. Gradually add the scalded (eg. just under boiling–do not boil) half-and-half or milk. Pour into six (6-ounce) custard cups (Pyrex or stoneware will do). Sprinkle with freshly grated nutmeg.
4. Place the custard cups in a large baking pan; pour boiling water into the pan to a depth of 1 inch.
5. Bake for 40-45 minutes or until a knife inserted halfway between the center and the edge of a cup comes out clean. Remove the cups from the water and cool. May be eaten warm or chilled.

Enjoy some easy baked comfort-in-a-cup!

Chasing Down the Moon: Part 3

This is one concert tour I've always regretted missing as I had a chance to see Kate Bush, who I had never heard of until the spring of 1979, at the New Theater in Oxford, England while living there for a month as an exchange student in high school. [I did nab tickets to Elton John's "A Single Man" tour which was brilliant and just he and the piano and a few back-up players, in a small theater setting.] If you know Kate Bush and her brilliant music, it was her one and only tour, ever. Imagine that in this age of stadium sell-outs?

Last night's third and final "moon chase" turned out to be another bust, well at least photographically. I saw the moon rise, at 6:54 (I checked in advance this time), and it was indeed a giant orange pumpkin cookie low on the horizon for a bit and then veiled in strange black clouds. Of course, all attempts to photograph it were futile but I was reminded in these images of Kate Bush's performance art-style rendition of "Kite" on this clip from a Hammersmith Odeon concert in 1979 (of which I've watched many clips over the years).





"Come up and be a kite,
On a diamond flight!
A diamond kite, a diamond kite.
Ooh, what a diamond!
A diamond kite
On a diamond flight.
Over the lights, under the moon.
Over the lights, under the moon.
Over the moon, over the moon!"

~ Kate Bush, Kite

Chasing Down the Moon: Part 2

Well, I had it all planned (and remember what God does with plans?). Camera ready, shoes on, warm sweater–my husband even offered to drive me up to the top of the knob. So up we went just after 5 o'clock. And we watched over the distant hills to the east and we waited. The distant purplish dark was there, advancing slowly our way. Behind us the sun was setting over Green River Knob. But, no moon.

"But I was sure it came up on South Fork Creek at 5:30 last night!"

To make a long story short: no moon in over a half-hour of waiting. I wanted to hold out but I had a hungry tribe in the car (and a husband who had offered to take us to dinner before errands). So, off to Somerset we went. I was sure we would see the moon rise along the parkway and yup, what do you know? Of course the entire time we were getting closer to the lights of our local "big city" and the strip. Had I waited on our knob it would have been too dark to get the landscape and the moon in one shot–last night would have been perfect as the moon rose at the same time that the sun was still setting. How often does that happen?

It has been an energizing moon and that is much needed in this darker time of year. But I'm ready for it: projects in process, some writing assignments ahead, the holidays (kind of ready for them too, or welcoming them this year). Everyone healthy so far this season. Allergies GONE (or at least dormant)!

I started to think on the way home about my favorite scene from one of my favorite movies of all time, Frank Capra's It's a Wonderful Life (and I hope Hollywood doesn't add this to its remake trend because it should be left alone as the brilliant film that it is–lovely, nostalgic, innocent, life-affirming–perfect Depression-era fare). I cry every time I watch this movie as provides some kind of catharsis for me. Meanwhile, Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed are perfectly paired.



GEORGE: What is it you want Mary? What do you want? You, you want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey, that's a pretty good idea. I'll give you the moon, Mary. [MARY: I'll take it. Then what?] Well, then you could swallow it and it'll all dissolve, see? And the moonbeams'd shoot out your fingers and your toes and the ends of your hair..."

Just lovely and what could be more romantic?

Today I had some posts from new blog readers and I was appreciative to learn that Wendy's blog, The Red Teapot Diary, has a Moon phase daily checker. Wendy is also chasing the moon these days. So I incorporated it in my blog along with a calendar that I really like, too (both in the left column).

NOTE: These vintage postcard images are no longer under copyright and were found on this nifty website: Vintage Holiday Crafts.