September Snapshots

The wonderful thing about September is summer-melting-into-autumn and the slant of the sun. Work finally slows down and I feel like I can breathe again. And this September I've had the gift of getting to spend a lot of time with Nick. :)

Vibes game—thanks for the second-row-behind-home-plate tickets, Brandi and Ruble! Nick and I are fairly convinced that part of the coaches' salary is based on their theatrics in getting kicked out of the game. Also, Vibes fans don't practise good sportsmanship. That has been repeatedly disappointing. The fireworks, however were amazing! Second time Nick and I have watched fireworks together this summer.

Nick and I don't have the same days off normally, so it was fun to have Labour Day off where we could actually spend a day together. We went to Twin Lakes to hike Interlaken and have a picnic lunch at the dock.

It was late in September
And I'd seen you before
You were always the cold one
But I was never that sure
You were all by yourself
Staring up at a dark grey sky
I was changed

Cry 

—Mandy Moore

Post-picnic (Pic-Nick!)

Sunset on our way back to the car. . . We had to stop by the water to skip rocks and enjoy this amazing view—God sure knows how to paint the sky! We also saw a big black bear when pulling into Manitou. :)

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The next weekend we went to the wedding of my coworkers. Their vows and celebration of the Eucharist (their first act as a married couple) brought tears to my eyes. . . And the pastor's wedding homily was both encouraging and challenging. (Not pictured: I caught the bouquet, a first for me!)

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Rather spontaneously, I flew to MN to meet up with Nick as he was driving home from a family vacation. We made the long drive rather slowly, but somehow managed not to take any photos! On the way, we got to stop in Omaha to see Kasey (alas, no photos of us together, either). She sent us home with a loaf of homemade sourdough bread and maple leaf cookies, and Nick shared cheese curds as we sipped caffeine and had a lovely evening. I have the best friends (well, friend and boyfriend)! In place of the photos we didn't take, here is Nick with family:

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I do plenty of things without Nick, too... I just don't always get photos of them!

• I went for a long hike to clear my head and heart after a long summer stuck in my basement office.  I saw grey jays, downy woodpeckers, a stag and hart bounding up a mountainside, and way more green than I normally see in Colorado at this time of year.
  
  
• There was an open Scripture Circle with Rabbi Noah, reflecting on the last chapter of the Pentateuch and how it is a reversal of several things in Genesis 1-2, and the completing of some things for Moses (a view of the sacred future of Israel, even though he doesn't get to Hebrew [literally cross over] with the Hebrews; finally seeing the face of God and indeed dying—having his ruach return to the mouth of God—and Drawn Out [the meaning of Moses] was put in the adamah by God Himself).
  
  
• Then I've been working my way through the "Who is God?" Bible Project podcast. It's been very interesting and offering bigger ides and new categories to help me process the Trinity.
  
  
• Packing and unpacking things with Lyndi as she moves into a new space and a new season of 'roommating' again.
  
  
• Last weekend I saw a large buck on my neighbour's roof. Amazon ain't got nothing on Rocky Mountain Santa's delivery team.
  
  
• Jeremy and Grace had a handful of us over to Celebrate Rosh Hashanah on Sunday... We enjoyed good food, lively conversation, and a very fun/funny game of Cards Christians Like. 
  
  
• And lastly, I discovered that chiropractors really are magicians. Wow.

With that, I must retire to Dreamland and await October in all its splendour. 🍁

Empty Hands

I want to hold my worth in my hands;
to trace my accomplishments
in gilded letters on spine and cover;
to smell them in ink and paper.

But my desire is a dream awakened,
and all I can trace are tears
of shame, that I have nothing
to hold out in offering but empty hands. . .

Empty hands—not clenched fists,
angry, or grasping at given gifts;
Empty hands, ready to hold another's,
to serve, to open and receive. . .

To receive trust—a hand placed
in mine by a friend or a child;
to receive that broken bread,
spoken over, speaking over me: "You belong."

To belong, to be welcomed,
is not something I can close my hand
around—my palm is empty
on this pilgrimage, ready to give.

I cannot hold my worth in my hand,
but I can hold His most precious Body;
hold the hand of one in His Body;
be a hand in His Body—empty. . .

Something Yummy for Cranberry Season

I promise that my blog is not simply becoming a recipe site. I have been thinking about a lot of complex things recently, but I have been rounding out those thoughts in various dialogues with friends. Once a few of them get a little more polished I may try to write about them.

Until then, I have been making all sorts of food lately, and I think it is fun to keep a sort of recipe journal for various seasons. No pumpkin this time, on to cranberries! There are plenty of ways to use cranberries, but I made up a recipe today so that I could both make sandwich bread, and eat something tangy.
 

CRANBERRY OAT SANDWICH BREAD

1/2 C rather warm water (110-115º)
2-1/2 tsp yeast
1 tsp sugar

Combine and set in a warm place (about 10 minutes) while you complete the next step

1-1/4 C cooked steel cut oats, heated (110-115º)
1/2 Tbs oil (your choice)
2 Tbs sugar or honey

Combine, add proofed yeast

1/2 tsp sea salt
2 [ish] C bread flour (unbleached white/whole wheat), sifted
(If you do not have bread flour, add about 3 tsp of vital wheat gluten to all purpose flour - that is what I do -- it works just fine)
1 Tbs flax seeds (chia, sunflower, or millet seeds work, too)

After you work the flour into the dough, knead by hand for 6 or 7 minutes. Let the dough rest for 5 minutes and oil a glass bowl. Knead for another 6 minutes. Tuck the seam of the dough on the underside and place in the oiled bowl (roll the top of the ball in the oil so it doesn't dry out).

Cover with a cloth and let stand in a warm place for about 1 hour (I put mine in my gas oven -- it always has a bit of heat inside due to the pilot light).

After the dough ball has approximately doubled in size, spread it on a very lightly floured workspace. Knead for 30 seconds to 1 minute to work the gluten strands - do not pull the dough, you will break the gluten strands. Flatten into a round about 8 inches in diameter and spread about 1/3 C of cranberries down the middle. Tuck the sides and end of the dough around the berries (you can add walnuts or pecans, too), place the loaf seam-side down in an oiled bread pan. Dust with old fashioned oats. If you wish, put 3 or 4 diagonal slash marks in the dough at this time with a very sharp knife or razor blade.

Let loaf stand in a warm place 30-45 minutes. Preheat oven to 400º, place bread in hot oven. After 5 minutes, turn the heat to 350º and bake for 45-55 minutes (or until loaf sounds hollow when tapped). Allow to cool (if you have patience) for at least 1 hour before slicing.

Makes delicious sandwich bread, or a great side for soup when all slathered with butter. I ate four pieces today alone... I also hiked. ;)

We Are Still Trees

A rook's coarse cry rends the snowy hush of this pearl-grey afternoon. On my desk awaits a piece of crusty, warm, homemade potato bread - liberally spread with butter. My thoughts turn to the brisk walk I enjoyed this morning...

Fine snow blew from every direction. Stinging my eyes, settling on my nose, eyebrows, and hair, it filled my very soul with vibrant life. Along the paths I tread were birds, birds, birds: a flock of  three dozen robins, a brace of red-shafted Northern flickers, a downy woodpecker, and (my favourite) a pair of nuthatches. Drawn by the chatter of birds, I turned into a quiet cul-de-sac, enjoying the view of fast-falling snow upon tall golden grass. Next to that avian sanctuary a line of snow along the trunk of a pine tree caught my gaze. A fir, slanted at a forty-degree angle from earth. How had I not seen it before? 

I paused my forward motion to drink in the sight, to ponder this tree's perseverance. Like other trees, it grew straight and up. Unlike other trees, it did so at an angle, rather than perpendicular to the ground. Some hardship or radical impact had drastically changed the course of this pine, yet it remained a tree, growing as it ought.

This gave me pause to think on my own life, and the lives of several of my friends. We do not pursue life at the pace of forty-plus hours a week, an MA or DPhil, spouses and children, or numerous other things many consider the mark of a 'normal' person. We pursue the good life from a different angle.

We study both books and persons not for a diploma, but for the sake of challenging our minds and hearts. We work as a means to keep our lights and heat on, to put food in our cupboards, yes. But we also see work as an end itself, something to be enjoyed; whether it is the work that gives us the funds to put bread on the table, or the work of making the bread to put on that table. When we do not have spouses and children of our own, we learn instead to enjoy the time spent with married couples, children, peers, and those older than we. Being gracious is a continual refining process. Opening my home, pantry, and heart to others takes effort, but the rewards are bountiful. 

 My friends and I are humans, cultivating life, growing as we ought: toward God, with others,  while stewarding the gifts (physical, mental, emotional) given by Providence. Though we desire and seek things that other persons do, we are often seen as 'not normal', because we seek those things differently. We desire friendship, enjoy Beauty, find work cathartic,  want to enrich our minds, etc., like any healthy human being ought. Yet those of us who undertake to live fully are seen as stumps, as compared with growing trees.

The fact is, we are much like that fir tree, growing upward and in a linear direction, but at an angle. We are still trees, still growing as we were designed to grow. Our position relative to the ground has simply changed due to hardship or a radical impact... But we are still trees.

~ Johanna

Cheery Mornings

I woke up this morning quite excited to sample the loaf of wheat bread I made last evening...

Oooooh, bread!

Hm, I didn't even brush my hair yet...

Oh well!

 

Yay for bread and tea!

Want the recipe so you can make this lovely loaf? It's easy! You can pick it up at Smitten Kitchen. I used oil rather than butter. I also proofed my yeast (with the sugar and warm water) before adding the oil and dry ingredients. Happy baking and a cheery Saturday to you!

P. S. Goodness, I am white... We really do have sun in Colorado, I promise!

Kneading Rhythm

Sticky potato water and yeast. Mashed potatoes, flour, and butter. This past weekend found me combining these ingredients in a large earthenware bowl. My arms, jeans, and fingers were dusted in flour, or sticky with dough; the perfect picture of a bread-maker. If there is one thing I have learnt about bread-making these past four or five months, it is that you must knead the dough. Otherwise, you will have dense, flat, or crumbly bread. Kneading takes patience, knowing when to let the dough rest, and strength in one's wrists and forearms.

 

Kneading has a rhythm to it, pushing the dough away from you with the heels of your hands. Not too hard, or you will break the gluten strands. Not too softly, or you will not stretch the gluten strands enough, resulting in a flat or crumbly loaf.

Life has a rhythm as well. Over the past few years I have discovered the Church calendar, it keeps me stretched, but not broken. Though I grew up with Christian parents and siblings, we have been more evangelical than liturgical believers. Discovering the cadence of Advent, the twelve days of Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, the Transfiguration, Eastertide, Ascension Day, and so on continues to teach me to walk in the pattern of God's ways, to the glory of His Name. One strand upon another, like the kneading and resting of bread dough, these Church seasons make me stronger. Lent and Advent are like the heels of the Father's hands upon my heart, preparing me to make room for His Son. Christmas and Eastertide are the moments of resting in a comfy, warm (but not hot) oven.

The bread analogy breaks down at some point, of course. Still, I wonder how many times God prepares, kneads, and rests our hearts, allowing us to be baked in the fire of trials. I know that I 'knead' rhythm in my life: seasons; circadian rhythm; sleep cycles; hours in the day; days in the week - some for work, some for rest; night and day; pain and joy; work and play. You need routine and new experiences, too. We all do, whether we realise it or not. 

This post is my first in the Twelve Days of Christmas. I plan to wrap up on January 5th, the eve of Epiphany. I still have a lot to learn about the metre of life, in the Church calendar and otherwise. Over these twelve days I want to share something I'm thankful for, because one strand of life is gratitude. Over and again Scripture speaks of those who had great calamity fall upon them, yet their response was to praise God. Such was Job, when he had everything taken from him he said, "The LORD gives and the LORD takes away, blesséd be the Name of the LORD." And the Apostle Paul reminds us to give thanks in all things, for thanksgiving is God's will for us in Christ Jesus (I Thes 5.18).

“The greatest honour we can give Almighty God is to live gladly because of the knowledge of His love.” ~ Julian of Norwich

Today I am thankful for many, many things. However, I will choose to name the greatest gift ever given which makes even good health, family, freedom, food, unexpected calls from good friends, a job, a community of friends, and a home pale in comparison: I am thankful that God is not 'out there'.  I am humbled, blessed, and grateful beyond words that God is Emmanuel - God [here] with us.

~ Johanna

Bread and Button-Holes...

Oh how I love practical thinking and simple living! I have been completely ensconced in Louisa May Alcott's Eight Cousins: Or Aunt Hill this week (click the link, you can read the whole book on-line for free!).

Reading of Rose's lessons in bread making, I was inspired to improve my domestic skills. All fall I had been planning to learn the art of bread making. A few tips here and there were given, I even made pretzels with some friends to start the process... Yet "real" bread had never been attempted. Deciding not to leave Colorado without at least one attempt, I tried my hand at the process yesterday.

Now let me tell you, my last attempt at yeast rolls resulted in little rock-solid things. They were kindly eaten, but they were a disastrous failure. Yesterday I threw out my first attempt with the yeast, feeling the water wasn't warm enough. After which, the Lord smiled upon my little domestic endeavours. The loaf of oat/whole wheat bread rose to a little round dome. The first rising of the yeast rolls happily doubled. I even remembered the tip I read about kneading the dough and pinching it off into rounds. Twelve puffy balls of dough rose gracefully in the pan. A dozen brown, warm, amazing-smelling rolls came out of the oven after 15 minutes.

I felt like a bread-making queen. Oh yes, I'm an expert now... Or not. But I certainly felt that way!

Next, I suppose I should learn how to sew button-holes (or in general; my hand-stitching is so slow and inconsistent) like Rose did in the book (see page 178 to read of her adventures). Hm, my lack of skill in button-holes is bringing me back down to reality after the bread success.

Today holds new adventures, I'm sure... I'd best get to them!


~ Johanna