Monday, December 15, 2014

Boys Will Be Boys

The sign says:



Young Bull Bison at Caprock Canyon State Park, Texas

So, how do we explain this?

Bull Moose at Windsong Neighborhood Park, Anchorage Alaska


                Or this?

Ah, the things we do for love. 

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

The Moral of the Story

I grew up on fairy tales and fables. I loved those stories, of the Boy Who Cried Wolf, the Lion and the Mouse, the Goose that Laid the Golden Eggs. But I have to wonder about exactly what some of them were trying to teach.

Everyone knows the story of the Tortoise and the Hare.  In the race, the hare takes off and leaves the tortoise in the dust. The hare gets so far ahead, he decides to show off my taking a nap just before the finish line. In the meantime, the tortoise plods along and manages to slip over the line before the hare realizes what’s happened. The moral is supposed to be “slow and steady win the race” but it seems to me the real moral is “don’t get cocky.”

Then there’s the Princess and the Pea. In this story, a girl shows up on the castle doorstep in a foreign kingdom, claiming to be a princess, and catches the prince’s eye. To test her, the queen puts her in a bed with seven mattresses stacked atop one another, but with a pea hidden beneath the lowest mattress. In the morning, the queen asks how she slept. The princess replies that she didn’t sleep a wink, because something poked her through the bed. Ta da, proof she’s a real princess, and the queen gives her blessing for the prince to marry her.

So what lesson do we take away? That truly high-class people are spoiled rotten? That royalty should feel free to impose on others' hospitality and then complain about it? That the queen hated her son and wanted to punish him by sticking him with a whiny wife?

I happen to have my own undercover princess. Roxy certainly doesn't look like a princess, and she’s as tough as an overcooked steak. She once tangled with a porcupine and then ran two miles back to the car for a trip to the vet with nary a whimper. And yet, every chance she gets, she sleeps on pillows. Not just one, but as many pillows as she can scrape together in a pile whenever our backs are turned. So in spite of the fact that she has no pedigree, no history, and no certain breed, I’m pretty sure she’s actually a lost princess in disguise. But at least she doesn’t whine about it.

Friday, December 5, 2014

A Visit to Tonto Natural Bridge

 On a recent road trip, we stopped by Tonto Natural Bridge. It's hidden deep in a canyon in central Arizona. That's it on the right. It doesn't look too impressive until you realize that those little dots deep inside the arch are people. This shot was taken from an overlook maybe 200 feet above the creek.

The travertine wall formed as a constant spring deposits calcium carbonate onto the trees and roots that grow there, encasing them in rock. It grew until it formed a dam in the creek, but the constant wear of the creek eventually wore a hole through the wall and created the bridge. 

It's still growing. The little spring continues to deposit minerals and drip over the bridge, while down below, Pine Creek keeps flowing. Calcium carbonate is the same stuff that makes white spots on your bathroom fixtures and plugs your pipes, but here, it's creating a miracle.

And it's not the only natural wonder in the canyon. The spring dripping down a canyon wall has created a fern grotto on the edge of a cliff. On the day we were there, icicles hung between the ferns. Up above, prickly pear clung to the rocks. It's an odd mix, but so beautiful.

I think there is a lesson here, maybe two. One is perseverance, to keep on plugging, keep on doing what you were born to do. A drip at a time can eventually build a bridge. The other is that  the odd juxtaposition of ordinary things can create something extraordinary. Each person's life is made up of various experiences, and you are the only person with that particular collection. You are unique. 

Monday, November 24, 2014

For the Joy of It

Image courtesy of NPS
It’s windy today. Driving through downtown, I saw a dozen ravens surfing in the air above the buildings. I see them often, hanging out near bluffs or large buildings, playing in the surf of the wind. They’re not nesting, or feeding, or protecting their territories. They’re just playing in the wind for the sheer joy of it.

Joy.  That’s really what it’s all about. I’m thankful for the big things in my life: for health and family, a loving husband, a comfortable home. But life is made up of moments, and it’s the moments of joy that make life the celebration it is.

You’ve seen it. It’s the way a baby’s face lights up when he spots his mother. It’s in the way certain soccer players manipulate the ball, reveling in their athleticism.  It’s the perfect focus of a Labrador on the ball in your hand, waiting for the throw.  

It’s the squeal of a child on a swing, pumping higher and higher until she almost flies. It’s that first taste of a perfect piece of apple pie, of sweetness and spice wrapped in a flaky crust. It’s the satisfaction an author feels when a reader says a story touched her heart.

There are sad and serious things happening in the world and our lives. Always, people are suffering in ways big and small, and we can’t ignore that. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t take the time to experience the joy.

This Thanksgiving, I’m thankful for the little flashes of joy that happen all day, and for the ability to notice them. May you and yours have a joyful Thanksgiving and a joyful life.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Getting Ready

I wrapped my first Christmas present today, and I've already baked and frozen three kinds of cookies. I know, I know. It’s not even Thanksgiving yet and I’m rushing the holiday, yadda, yadda, yadda. I sometimes say the same, but secretly inside, I’m a little kid who just can’t wait for Christmas.
So are some of the characters in my books. In Family Planning (which is on sale through Dec. 7th), Donna has met the man of her dreams and moved to Flagstaff to start anew, only life gets in the way. The story starts and ends at Christmas. Here’s a little excerpt.

“Christmas cookies?” Blake looked at her suspiciously. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
“One of whom?”
 “One of those Christmas people.”
Donna started a pot of decaffeinated coffee. “You mean those annoying people who bake cookies and decorate everything in sight and wear ugly Christmas sweaters and go around singing carols for the whole month of December?”
“Yes, those people.”
“I’m afraid so. My name is Donna and I’m a Christmas person.”
He nodded solemnly. “I thought so. I saw the signs.”
Donna laughed and opened the tin of Christmas cookies. “Is this going to be a problem for you?”
Blake reached into the tin. “Actually, I’m a closet Christmas person myself. I don’t actually bake cookies or wear Christmas sweaters but I’m always available for taste testing and I have been known to cut a tree.”

So Grinch about rushing the season if you must, but know that once Thanksgiving is past, my house will smell like Christmas cookies, fir needles, and vanilla candles. Hope yours is filled with all the scents you love, too. 

Thursday, November 13, 2014

I Love Autumn

Ten Things I Love about Autumn

      1. Warm shades of red, gold, and brown
      2. Frosty mornings and crisp sunny days
      3. Baked apples
      4. More gourds than I know what to do with
      5. Cuddly mornings under the quilt
      6. The scent of wood smoke
      7. Plans for Thanksgiving
      8. Bringing nature inside
      9. Vees of geese flying over
      10. Hints that Christmas is coming

Monday, November 3, 2014

Bonding over a Bad Recipe

Halloween is behind us and November is here, which means Thanksgiving is just around the corner. For the first time in a very long time, neither of my kids will be with us. Instead, we plan to spend Thanksgiving with my husband’s mother.

This takes me back to my first Thanksgiving with his family. We were in college and hadn’t been dating long. I was just starting to get to know his family and working hard to convince them I was good girlfriend material. His mother set a beautiful table and the food was wonderful.

The next day, she suggested we try a recipe she'd cut from the newspaper for Turkey Frame Soup. We spent a good part of the day preparing the bones, chopping vegetables, and rolling out and cutting homemade noodles. When dinnertime came, we gathered the family together and served the soup. It tasted like dishwater.

Everyone ate quietly, too polite to comment. Finally my future husband turned to me and said, “Thank you for making this for me. Please don’t ever make it again.”

My mother-in-law and I had many later successes in cooking collaboration, especially that year their apricot tree produced a bumper crop. The pie we made was prizeworthy. I’m not sure why the Turkey Frame Soup was so bad. I make soup all the time now, and it’s not hard. In fact, my husband begs for my chicken soup made from the remains of a rotisserie chicken. And yet my mother-in-law and I still reminisce about that awful soup. Somehow the failure created a bond.

I don’t have the Turkey Frame Soup recipe (not that you’d want it) but here’s my recipe for Chicken Barley Soup. It takes a while, but it’s easy and the aroma is wonderful. The chilies aren’t spicy; they add a rich flavor to the broth. As you can see, measurements aren’t exact.  It can be doubled or tripled for a turkey carcass. Rice can replace the barley, but I prefer the nutty texture of barley.

Chicken Barley Soup

To make the broth:
1 cooked chicken carcass after the good stuff (breast, thighs, drumsticks) has been picked off
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon black pepper
½ teaspoon poultry seasoning
A handful of celery leaves
Half a carrot
Half an onion

Using your fingers, remove all meat that comes off easily (backs, ribs, the meaty part of the wings). Reserve. Put the bones with whatever meat is clinging to them in a stockpot or Dutch oven and cover with water. If you have a neck, throw it in. Add the rest of the ingredients. Bring to a boil, then turn to a low simmer, cover, and ignore for a couple of hours.  When the bones are falling apart, remove from heat and let cool for thirty minutes or more.

Set up a strainer or colander over a bowl. You’re after the broth, not the solids. Pour the soup through the strainer and discard the bones and vegetables. At this point you can refrigerate the broth and make soup the next day if desired.

To make the soup: 
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
2 stocks celery, chopped
2 medium carrots, sliced thin
¼ head cabbage, roughly chopped
Reserved broth
1 4 oz. can chopped green chilies
1 teaspoon herbs de Provence (or ¼ each basil, thyme, marjoram, rosemary)
½ teaspoon sage or poultry seasoning
2/3 cup pearl barley
Reserved chicken, roughly chopped
Salt and pepper

Heat oil in stockpot. Saute onion and celery on medium heat until onion is just starting to brown. Add carrots and cabbage and saute for a minute more. Add broth, chilies with liquid, seasonings, and barley. Cover pan. Bring to a boil and then reduce heat and let simmer 45 minutes to 1 hour. Taste and check barley for doneness. Add salt and pepper as needed. When barley is done, add reserved chicken and heat for 10 minutes.  Serve hot.