Tuesday, January 22, 2013
American as apple pie
Doesn't that look yummy? I've made apple pie before, but I've never made a lattice crust until now. ohoo! Who knew it would be so easy, and look so pretty? Why didn't I try it sometime in the last forty years?
We get into our comfort zone, which then seems to contract as the years go by. We may think about doing something new, may even plan it out, but do we take the first step? Not that making a lattice top for an apple pie is a large leap by any means, but I wonder why it took me so long to do this small thing.
How many other things am I missing in life? How much am I limiting myself just by not thinking further, pushing further, looking further? I am happy, very happy, with my life. Does that contentment create too much lethargy? Maybe that is why the princess really did need a pea under her mattress. She found the pea to be an irritant, but think what she would have been like without it--perfectly rested!
My mother had the secret to making a perfectly twisted edge on a pie crust. You know, the kind that looks like a coiled rope all the way around the pie. I watched her do it hundreds of time, but could never quite figure out how to do it. My grandmother, mom's mother, could roll two lumps pf bread dough at one time, into perfect buns, She did one in the left hand, one in the right. I never could do that, either. One bun would turn out pretty well, the other would be smashed and shunken. Now I use a breadmaker and never make buns, only loaves. Maybe I need to try again. Or maybe I need to move on to making brioche or oven pancakes or something else I nevr tried, but always wanted to.
It used to be that there was too much to do, too little time, what with a job, three kids, a marriage, and sleep. Now there is retirement, the three kids making their ways alone, if unsteadily, a marriage that has survived thirty-seven years, and lots of time for sleep, there is still too much to do, but a lot more time to get it done. I find myself trying to parse the tasks done, however, I think because I realize now that although I have a lot more time, it still is not enough time, and choices must be made.Also, I am slowing down, taking longer just to make the choice of jam on my toast in the morning. I find I want to do tasks more precisely, rather than just quickly to get them done.
Is this a ramble? It certainly is not a carefully thought out dissertation on aging. Tomorrow is my birthday, another year older, hopefully another year wiser. The lattice top pie was a very small adventure. May there be many more.
Friday, January 11, 2013
piecework
Business as Usual
Guess I haven't written for awhile--the frenetics of the holidays does that to me. There is so much to be done, only a tiny fraction of which gets accomplished. But the holidays come, anyway, and we have a great time being together, whether or not the turkey is cooked to perfection, or the house decorations are perfect.
This year, my son and husband were in charge of dinner for the family Christmas. They did a marvelous job, and I think started a new tradition. At least, I am in favor of it as a tradition, as I got to spend my day NOT in the kitchen, and it was just wonderful. I got to go to my teacher-daughter's classroom and watch her try to control 30 5th graders on the afternoon before winter break, and help with a craft project. It was so much fun. Sara is a marvellous teacher, very unflappable, rolls with the punches, relates to her students. One of those teachers kids will remember years later.
So, it has been busy, but also eventful and satisfying. I do miss talking to my son, though. He is only 20 miles away, at school, and seems to be doing very well. I'm so very glad for that. He has matured a great deal in the last two years. Why is a daughter easier to talk to than a son? Is is the age, the gender, or have I not yet morphed from "Mom" to friend who also happens to be mother?
Guess I haven't written for awhile--the frenetics of the holidays does that to me. There is so much to be done, only a tiny fraction of which gets accomplished. But the holidays come, anyway, and we have a great time being together, whether or not the turkey is cooked to perfection, or the house decorations are perfect.
This year, my son and husband were in charge of dinner for the family Christmas. They did a marvelous job, and I think started a new tradition. At least, I am in favor of it as a tradition, as I got to spend my day NOT in the kitchen, and it was just wonderful. I got to go to my teacher-daughter's classroom and watch her try to control 30 5th graders on the afternoon before winter break, and help with a craft project. It was so much fun. Sara is a marvellous teacher, very unflappable, rolls with the punches, relates to her students. One of those teachers kids will remember years later.
So, it has been busy, but also eventful and satisfying. I do miss talking to my son, though. He is only 20 miles away, at school, and seems to be doing very well. I'm so very glad for that. He has matured a great deal in the last two years. Why is a daughter easier to talk to than a son? Is is the age, the gender, or have I not yet morphed from "Mom" to friend who also happens to be mother?
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