Fall Comfort Food...

I haven't blogged for several days now, I've been feeling a lot tired and under the weather (I think that saying "under the weather" must surely have been written about the general malaise a body feels with the departure of summer and seeing ahead to the oncoming six months of gloom without much sun...)

So..., to cheer myself up, I get busy in the kitchen..., and think about what to cook for the family that will be hearty, tasty and good for us.....( by the way..., the creepy crawlies on the squash are not real.. they are  characters I bring out at this time of year to put us in the mood for one of our favorite holidays... Halloween - more on that sooooooon!)

Fall Squash Soup

When the weather turns cool, it seems like soup making is a given...

Below is a recipe for Squash Soup, its tasty, warming, savory and put together in no time.

Ingredients

3 tbsp. Olive Oil ( or 3 tbsp. butter)

2 shallots

2 garlic cloves

1 medium apple, such as Granny Smith

1 large Squash (I used butternut) cut in half, seeded and

baked till tender and skin pulls away from flesh easily.

1 Cup of Apple Cider

8 cups of Vegetable or Chicken Broth

1 Teaspoon of Curry Powder

Salt & Pepper

Chop the shallots and garlic cloves, heat the olive oil in a heavy bottom pan and saute till transparent.

Peel, core and chop the apples and saute along with the shallots and garlic and cook till tender (about 5 minutes.)

Cut the baked squash into cubes and add to the pan, along with apple cider, broth and curry powder.

Simmer till the squash cubes have softened completely and melted into the broth ( approx. 20 minutes.) Stir in salt and pepper to taste.

At this point I take a hand blender (or carefully pour into my Vitamixer,) and blend till smooth and creamy.

To make it extra yummy, chop some sage into slivers and saute in butter or oil till crispy, or try chopped  turkey bacon, or a dollop of sour cream ( if your diet allows...).., crispy croutons.... mmmm you name the toppings..... and serve with hot, crispy garlic bread....mmmmmmmmm...

.... Voila!...., a pot of hot and tasty soup that comforts and satisfies... 

Chickadee poem.

Chickadee...

This morning as I walked the garden path

I heard the faint cry of a bird spirit... calling..

though the sound was not audible...

At first I couldn't see him, then I spied the little bird

crouched inside a bird feeder...

(I have NO idea how he got in there...)

Removing the top and pouring him out 

with the seed...

he slipped birth-like into 

my awaiting hand.

Sat for a moment, his heart fluttered on my palm,

blinking as if in disbelief

at what had befallen him.

Shuddering with cold, or so I thought,

I held his tiny body warmly to me...

Whispering to him, its alright, ... its alright...

He folded his wings beneath him as he lay down on his side.

His back arched and stretched, eyes opened wide for 

a long moment...

Then curling fetus like,

he closed his eyes for the last time.

A Dream Come True...

A few months ago, I wrote in this blog about my secret desire to learn to paint in oils (or acrylics,)  http://neinahavelin.blogspot.com/2010/05/unspoken-desire.html

... A while back I bought this painting...

"Celebration" by Sophie Frieda

...by the very gifted artist Sophie Frieda...at the same time, I asked her if she would consider teaching me how to paint, which on reflection might have seemed a bit bold, considering I've never had a lesson, and don't really know the first thing about painting..., and,,, and ..... and....

So.., she said "yes" she would help me, (brave woman that she is!)  I invited a dear friend to join me in the fun,  (Sophie suggested that it might be more effective to have two people to teach at the same time, as it would assist the learning process, as each individual learns differently, comes up with different questions, and has different insights that the other might not...)

Today was our first two hour lesson...

Do you know the saying "When the student is ready the teacher will appear?"  Well, until today, I wasn't ready...  If I'd have taken painting lessons before now, I would have beaten myself up for not being "any good at  art!"  and might have stopped, angry and frustrated with myself...  It has been a lifelong weakness..., starting in earnest with goals and longings, then stopping before I've even given myself a chance to get going, (and actually learn something)... 

 Its a very strange thing... wanting something so badly, I would allow myself to try,  then stop, and instead of shaking beginners nerves off (or whatever road block might appear,) over and over I would shoot myself down because ..."I wasn't good at it"... - like IMMEDIATELY!!! and then I would give up trying without question...  Have you ever done that???

Silly really, when I think about it...

My first lesson, learning about light and dark, shadows,

 dimensions, tonal values.., how to really look at a subject...

I think I must have left "the critic" at home today,  as I was able to sit and watch, pay attention to what Sophie had to share and I became rapt/wrapped in the lesson... Time  s - l - o - w - e - d  down, and I gave myself to the work at hand and LOVED every moment of it... and (this may sound silly people,)  I loved myself for letting the joy flow, letting the love and beauty of the moment settle in for a whole two hours..., and leaving judgement at home...  - Something I plan on doing more often!!!

 Cyndi Lauper had it right when she sang "GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN!"  

Look who I ran into yesterday at the park..., a delightful "Earful of Waxwings.." (Bombycilla cedrorum.)
I read recently that the colorful band on their tail is dependent on the fruit that they eat,,, usually either orange or yellow...  Looking at the beautiful red berries on this Hawthorne, its a wonder their tales aren't scarlet red!  They're very busy birds, and quite difficult to photo, because of their constant squabbling, preening, gulping berries on the fly...  but oh they are so very gorgeous.. I forgive them their flighty nature..

Even though they appear to be engrossed in their feasting, they never seemed to take their kohl lined eyes off of me for a second...  and after a few more moments..., they'd had enough of me taking their photo and took off to a nearby tree...

I waited around for several minutes, being quiet and all, hoping they'd come back to the Hawthorne, but with a sudden cry of "zeeeeeeeeetttt, zeeeeeeettttt..., " from them all, they took off...  in a different direction, not to be seen again.

I feel most honored to have found such a large group of them at this time of year...  Usually if I'm lucky, I get to see them in late spring when the Indian plum tree berries ripen...  Such a surprise ..., such a gift.

Time to wander...

Today I drove across the Hood Canal to the Olympic Peninsula to pick up CG's daughter from her school...She attends a Waldorf school that is also a farm...   I arrived 15 minutes early so had time to wander the farm and take a moment or two to dream...

 I love farms and have long held a desire to be a farmer...  I dream of happy chickens, taking dust-baths, ducks swimming in muddy puddles (and terrorizing any slugs that dare to come near my vegetable and flower beds...)  I dream of having bees that drone happily all season long dancing with the flowers, pollinating blossoms in an orchard full of fruit trees.. Its a beautiful dream...

Bees loading up on pollen from the calendula flowers...

Giant sunflowers bow their heads as if too tired to 

to keep them looking sunward...

Gorgeous orangey red Tithonia - one of my 

favorite summer flowers...

Even though a little blurry, I had to include this sweet 

little marmalade colored friend... he was a little 

reticent about having his photo taken, and made a 

dash for the shadows after I took my shot...

Lost in taking photo's of the flowers, I suddenly caught sight of

my shadow through the camera lens..., I had a moment of

childish delight at seeing my shadow self..., I'm not sure

why...  When I have more time, I think I'd like to 

write more about this..., perhaps a poem, or perhaps a dream???

Do you have dreams ???

Owl Inspiration...

Tonight we took ourselves off to the movies, a treat, considering its a school night..., we've been wanting to see the film version of this book http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guardians_of_Ga'Hoole  since we saw the trailers for it months ago...  And oh my..., it was wonderful... The animation is so incredibly breathtaking.. A must see for adults as well as children...

Owls are such beautiful creatures, sometimes at night I can hear a pair calling to each other - (though not sure what species...) And unfortunately, I do not have any owl photo's myself, but I was able to find a photo online of what I consider my favorite owl -  Barn Owl (tyto alba)

Photographer ~ Liz Noffsinger

I have another reason for wanting to post about owls, last night I came upon a new (to me) poem by Mary Oliver, in which she describes what I believe to be a barn owl as "pale angel..."  I love her poems, but this one really called to me...

The Poet Goes To Indiana ~ by Mary Oliver

I'll tell you a half-dozen things

that happened to me

in Indiana

when I went that far west to teach.

You tell me if it was worth it.

I lived in the country

with my dog ---

part of the bargain of coming.

and there was a pond

with fish from, I think, China.

I felt them sometimes against my feet.

Also, they crept out of the pond, along its edges,

to eat the grass.

I'm not lying.

And I saw coyotes,

two of them, at dawn, running over the seemingly

unenclosed fields.

And once a deer, but a buck, thick-necked, leaped

into the road just ---oh, I mean just, in front of my car ---

and we both made it home safe.

And once the blacksmith came to care for the four horses,

or the three horses that belonged to the owner of the house,

and I bargained with him, if I could catch the forth,

he, too, would have hooves trimmed

for the Indiana winter,

and apples did it,

and a rope over the neck did it,

so I won something wonderful;

and there was, one morning,

an owl

flying, oh pale angel, into

the hay loft of a barn,

I see it still;

and there was once, oh wonderful,

a new horse in the pasture,

a tall, slim being --- a neighbor was keeping him there ---

and she put her face against my face,

put her muzzle, her nostrils, soft as violets,

against my mouth and my nose, and breathed me,

to see who I was,

a long quiet minute --- minutes---

then she stamped feet and whisked tail

and danced deliciously into the grass away, and came back.

She was saying, so plainly, that I was good, or good enough.

Such a fine time I had teaching in Indiana.

Knitting Brings Quiet...

This weekend finds me at our local race track, watching as CG races in the rain...  My usual home on Wheels AKA "Petunia" sits at home, unable to start, (we think she needs a new battery)...  So I sit in  the cab of our truck and try to feel the quiet and peace like I enjoy when we travel with Petunia...

I pulled out some rich Kiwi green yarn that I'd brought with me and began to knit a toasty shawl for the cooler weather.   Once again I discover what profound and therapeutic effects working (creating) with colors can have on my temperament.  The repetition of the gently clicking needles and the beautiful colored  yarn passing in, over, through, off, puts me in a state of quiet relaxation, almost meditation... whilst in the background I hear the sound of cars careering  around corners and screeching their tires in an effort to stay on the track in the deluge of rain.  Its good to be warm, its good to be dry...

I discovered this poem I'd like to share by Pablo Neruda.  I love how his words sweetly describe the specialness of being given a pair of hand knitted socks, that are "as soft as two rabbits..."

Ode To My Socks ~ by Pablo Neruda

(Translated by Robert Bly)

Mara Mori brought me

a pair of socks

which she knitted herself

with her sheepherder's hands,

two socks as soft as rabbits.

I slipped my feet into them

as though into two cases

knitted with threads of twilight and goatskin.

Violent socks,

my feet were two fish made of wool

two long sharks

sea blue, shot through

by one golden thread,

two immense blackbirds,

two cannons,

my feet were honored in this way

by these heavenly socks.

They were so handsome for the first time

my feet seemed to me unacceptable

like two decrepit fireman,

firemen unworthy of that woven fire,

of those glowing socks.

Nevertheless, I resisted the sharp temptation

to save them somewhere as schoolboys

keep fireflies,

as learned men collect

sacred texts,

I resisted the mad impulse to put them

in a golden cage and each day give them

birdseed and pieces of pink melon.

Like explorers in the jungle

who hand over the very rare green deer

to the spit and eat it with remorse,

I stretched out my feet and pulled on

the magnificent socks and then my shoes.

The moral of my ode is this:

beauty is twice beauty,

and what is good is doubly good

when it is a matter of two socks

made of wool in winter.