Conspicuous By Your Absence

I’ve seen it written that one shouldn’t acknowledge an absence from blogging once she returns to writing said blog. But I don’t really feel comfortable not acknowledging an absence of several months after writing a daily blog last fall. So herewith, my mea culpa.

Suffice to say that a number of factors contributed to my absence, not the least of which is that I have not had a functional kitchen since October! What started as a leak under the sink became ripping out an entire wall of cabinets, jack-hammering the tile underneath, and parting with our beloved antique cast-iron double basin sink. As is the norm with renovations, everything takes way longer than expected. So, I haven’t been doing much cooking. One would think this would give me the time for more DIY projects, but clearly, it hasn’t.

my beloved sink  : (

And, quite frankly, I think I was overly-ambitious in my previously daily blogging. That sort of schedule doesn’t leave much time for work or housekeeping or, well, life. So, I have decided that one or two posts a week would be a better option. It will give me time to write. And, it will give you time to miss me. 

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle...

Over the last few months I have undertaken the arduous task of cleaning out my mother's home. I should say my home really because it is the house I grew up in from the age of four and, while I moved out some time ago, there are still some very strong attachments. Like any home, it is filled with memories: Christmas mornings, playing dress up, hugs, Sundays reading the comics, pancake breakfasts, phone calls,  birthdays, family dinners, Irish music, laughter, joy. It's walls also saw tearful fights, sicknesses, sorrow and anger. And every item in that house reminds me of the past. It is exceedingly hard to let go and necessary to do so.

In the course of going through a life, there are some things you find that seem like junk to you and you are tempted to get rid of them. If, however, you are thinking about doing some craft projects, it pays to look at things in a new light. Among the items in our home that I have decided to keep are a 1968 Rand McNally World Atlas, some Reader's Digest Condensed Books from the '60s and '70s and a beat up clip board. Why in the world would anyone want this stuff, you ask? Well, there are quite a few DIY projects that have been percolating in my brain the last month and now I have the tools to make them a reality!

Here's the stuff...

How gorgeous are the colors of these maps?! 

These are for a candle project. 

I can't wait to transform this!

How can you buy or sell the sky?

How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?...We know that the white man does not understand our ways. One portion of land is the same to him as the next, for he is a stranger who comes in the night and takes from the land whatever he needs. The earth is not his brother, but his enemy, and when he has conquered it, he moves on. He leaves his father's grave behind, and he does not care. He kidnaps the earth from his children, and he does not care. His father's grave, and his children's birthright are forgotten. He treats his mother, the earth, and his brother, the sky, as things to be bought, plundered, sold like sheep or bright beads. His appetite will devour the earth and leave behind only a desert....

You must teach your children that the ground beneath their feet is the ashes of our grandfathers. So that they will respect the land, tell your children that the earth is rich with the lives of our kin. Teach your children that we have taught our children that the earth is our mother. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves.

This we know; the earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth. This we know. All things are connected like the blood which unites one family. All things are connected....All things share the same breath - the beast, the tree, the man... the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports.

Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect.

Man does not weave this web of life. He is merely a strand of it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.

- Chief Seattle, in response to George Washington

Toffee Brownies

As I've mentioned in the past and will no doubt repeat in the future: I love me some Paula Deen. I love her unapologetic use of butter and the enormous joy she gets (and gives) from food.  So, when I'm feeling the need for comfort, I go to my culinary mama and say, "Mama Paula, what y'all got for me today?" She always answers. 

Now, I love playing in the land of Mama Paula's recipes. I love preparing my mise. I love that her recipes come out perfect every time. I love that they allow me to put my personal stamp on them. I love the down-homey goodness that they exude. But sometimes, I need a quick fix. I want easy, no sweat, instant gratification. Thankfully, Paula's knows how to do that too.

Toffee Brownies

Recipe courtesy Paula Deen, 2007

Prep Time:

8 min

Inactive Prep Time:

--

Cook Time:

25 min

Level:

Easy

Serves:

24 large/48 small brownies

Ingredients

• 1 (17.6-ounce) package brownie mix with walnuts
• Vegetable oil cooking spray
• 3 (6-ounce) candy bars with almonds and toffee chips (recommended: Symphony brand)

Directions

Prepare the brownie mix according to package directions.

Line a 13 by 9-inch cake pan with aluminum foil and spray with vegetable oil cooking spray. Spoon in half of the brownie batter and smooth with a spatula or the back of a spoon. Place the candy bars side by side on top of the batter. Cover with the remaining batter.

Bake according to package directions. Let cool completely, then lift from the pan using the edges of the foil. This makes it easy to cut the brownies into squares.

Home is where I want to be, but I guess I'm already there

There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort.

                                                                      - Jane Austen

The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.

                                                                  - Maya Angelou

Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.

                                                    -Oliver Wendell Holmes

Where is home? Home is where the heart can laugh without shyness. Home is where the heart's tears can dry at their own pace.

                                                                   - Vernon Baker

Walk in Balance

Since returning from South Dakota, I've been thinking a lot about the history of that land and how much our forebears could have learned from the Native Americans, had they chosen to do so.

Wakan Tanka, Great Mystery, teach me how to trust my heart, my mind, my intuition, my inner knowing, the senses of my body, the blessings of my spirit. Teach me to trust these things so that I may enter my Sacred Space and love beyond my fear, and thus Walk in Balance with the passing of each glorious Sun. 

                                                                                                                          ~ Lakota Prayer

There's gold in them thar hills!

The history books tell us that in the late 1800s the Black Hills of the Dakota Territory were subject to an influx of prospectors looking for gold. This dramatically changed that area forever, as towns sprung up in the wilderness and the native inhabitants were pushed out. Some were brought to great heights while others received only sorrow. All because it was decided that a particular mineral within those hills was highly valuable. Having now seen that land myself, I'd venture to say that what was left behind in those rocks retains it's own particular value.  

Among the many pictures I took while in the Black Hills are these close-ups of rock formations. Some have moss growing on them, others do not; some are rough, others are smooth. The colors within them range from green and a soft blue-grey to orange and pink. Looking at them, I was awed at the variation and beauty of the natural world. 

Maybe these photos will be the jumping off point for an art project. Maybe I'll pull colors from them for a re-design of one of our rooms. Who knows? I only know that, as far as I'm concerned, there's still gold in the Black Hills.