Category Archives: homemaking

Extending a welcome to ourselves.

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“We are needy creatures, and our greatest need is for home—the place where we are, where we find protection and love. We achieve this home through representations of our own belonging, not alone but in conjunction with others. All our attempts to make our surroundings look right—through decorating, arranging, creating—are attempts to extend a welcome to ourselves and to those whom we love.”

― Roger Scruton

By Carl Larsson

In the last couple of weeks I’ve felt a certain comfort and rest deep in my bones. Maybe it has something to do with having made time for my Hospitality Work. I forced myself to stay home from a couple of events just to recover my peace, which had been disturbed by events hard to explain. Once I was able to focus on my home-work, I also could do it in an honorable way, that is, without hurrying. Instead of “The hurrier I go, the behinder I get,” it’s “Take more time, you’ll get there faster.”

I love to do the dishes calmly, but even when I do, I tend to leave the task before I’m completely done, because I get distracted by a thought, some idea that makes me drop my dishtowel on the counter as I head to the bookcase or the garden and don’t remember to come back until it’s bedtime, and a little late for dishes. Lately, when that happens, I’ve finished up, calmly, self-hospitably, in the morning. So all is good.

One Moonglow tomato so far.

I’ve been cooking zucchini (from my three plants) for myself, and serving myself the first Green Doctors cherry tomatoes right off the vine. In this season when I don’t have anyone upstairs to see my bedroom, I make my bed for my own pleasure and so that the rumpled blankets don’t spread their mood to my easily agitated mind.

If I slow down enough, I can look ahead and plan for full days at home, and occasionally plan the night before to make bread the next day. I have done that three times now, with increasing success. It’s not realistic to think that I will make bread more than once every week or two, and my goals must be adjusted from four years ago when I’d first resumed bread baking again, because as with so many things in life, I realize that I can’t have everything I want, even when I am myself the only (human) guest in my home.

This is the last loaf I made, and I’m pretty pleased with it. If I had started the dough the night before it would have been a little more sour; I’m still experimenting. It has what I would consider a good “regular bread” crumb, not custardy, but not doughy or dry, either. I like artisan breads with that custardy and open crumb, but I also don’t like the holes very big, because whatever I put on my slice of toast will melt through them all over my hand and shirt.

The sides did not crack on this one — I recently remembered that 40 years ago when I’d make four or five sourdough loaves at a time, I had to slash them with a straight gash down the middle, not diagonal cuts as I think looks nicer. Otherwise pieces of the top would break off. Maybe that helped take the strain off the sides as well, to keep them from cracking. This loaf has a little whole spelt flour in it, plus sesame, poppy, caraway and fennel seeds.

I got lots of new plants in the ground this month, the latest being portulaca, which I love, but haven’t always had good luck with. Maybe August is the best month to put that in, when the sun is burning down the way those flowers like it.

Once again, I planted nasturtium seeds in various places, early and later, and this year I got one plant to grow. Its first bloom just opened this weekend. Welcome, little flower friend!

Messiness and happiness in the balance.

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Why am I so happy, suddenly? It’s 4:00 in the afternoon, my kitchen and family room are incredibly messy, it should be depressing. I took a video just now, scanning the room, with dishes sitting in tepid dishwater and empty plastic bags on the counter, bills and book mailers on the smaller table along with the contents of my traveling backpack that I’d dumped there several days ago.

On the big dining table are stacks of papers and magazines and mail waiting to be further sorted, a spray bottle of Mrs. Meyers, and bins from my Big Purge&Sort project; on the sideboard, two handbags in disarray — because I can’t decide which one I’m using from day to day when I do go out; an open planner, more mail and various papers, and stacks of books growing taller every day. Empty cardboard boxes on the floor, and the usual aprons and dishtowels wadded on the counter or slung over backs of chairs…

You know why this isn’t getting me down? It’s the second day in a row that I haven’t had any outside commitments or workers in the house, and I think I am rested from my latest expeditions. I thought I was rested by Tuesday, and today I was bright awake early, but then strangely, fell asleep mid-morning.

I didn’t tell you about my trip home from the East Coast, that involved a twice-delayed flight, the last shuttle bus of the night (2:00 a.m.) not showing up, and me finally taking an Uber all the way from the airport, a one-hour ride. There was so much interesting along that journey, like the red Tesla that brought me home, but I have been too weary to write about it. I got into bed at 5 in the morning. I had written in that planner ahead of time that I should “Stay Home!” all this week, but I’d forgotten about our parish feast day… Anyway, now I have had two good days of solitude, and tomorrow is another one, God willing.

I’ve accomplished so many things in these homey days, slowly and steadily as my wits come around again. When I returned from D.C. there were two large zucchinis waiting to be picked, and three perfect ones, and some rubbery celery in the fridge. This afternoon I cooked up one of the big fruits with the celery. I made appointments (for next week), ordered birthday presents, bought a new lamp online, and took time to read while sitting in my morning room.

And I baked bread! My effort from a few weeks ago was a failure — let’s not talk about that — so I tried a new thing today, and it worked pretty well. I have a small loaf that is just the right size for me, and it didn’t crack on the side very much…

The crack is not big enough that the slice of bread falls apart, and the crumb is nice and  “custardy.” With a little more experimenting, I’m hopeful of developing a recipe that will work with my style of homemaking and cooking, and be somewhat reliable. If it can be sourdough, all the better. And if anyone has a theory about the crack, please let me know. Becoming a professional baker, or adopting a systematic, precise and scientific baking personality — that is not going to happen.

It’s 90 degrees today, which is good for my mood, and for bread baking. If it’s colder than 80, the house stays cold, and I behave like a lizard in winter. If it’s 95 or 100 I have to shut the windows to keep the house cool. But today, I can fully enjoy the summer and have the outdoors coming in — through the screens, of course! I never will get over how my grandma in Berkeley summers would have the windows wide open with no screens, and no flies. I can remember how her sheer curtains would float gently in the breeze that blew up the hill from San Francisco Bay….

The front garden is burgeoning, everything bigger than ever, with an added flower growing out from under the germander hedge. It’s not like anything else growing on the property, or the neighbors’ properties, unless you compare it to the Golden Marguerite that can be seen behind it. The Seek app even said it was a Golden Marguerite, but if it is, its petals are albinos.

All in all, I think the balance between tidiness and messiness tipped a tiny bit toward the tidy in the last hours, in spite of added bread dough and starter mess. I promise I will clean the kitchen now and not leave any dishwater in the sink when I go to bed. That will contribute to keeping happiness in ascendance, too. Thank you for sharing my happy day with me.

Here was at home.

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Today was most wonderful, as it was a fully At Home Day, after a long period of being away every day, always for good things, of course. It could be called a catch-up day, as I’ve had the time to concentrate on tasks that have been getting shoved aside and neglected for too long. Cooking and tidying up took quite a bit of time; because I’ve been cooking more lately, I end up washing dishes more often, but that’s okay, because I enjoy cleaning up the kitchen if I can really give it proper attention. I watered a wilting/dying house plant, and while I ate my lunch I watched the birds outside on the patio, as they finished up the last of the suet feeder.

I took some papaya peelings and Brussels sprouts trimmings out to add to the worm bucket. And it occurred to me, since worm farming is called vermiculture or vermicomposting, etc., maybe I could call my worms “vermi’s” — what do you think? It sounds cuter than worms. This is what my worms typically look like when I take off the lid of their 5-gallon bucket. I’m always relieved if they are looking alive. When the weather drops to freezing, they are unhappy, and disappear into the center of their habitat to huddle together.

It’s been raining steadily all day — until now, when just before the sun went down, it came out and made everything sparkle — and I knew last night that I would want to have a fire in the stove so that I wouldn’t be distracted by being cold, on this day of opportunity. So I brought quite a few logs into the garage in advance of the rain, before I left for a General Unction service at a sister parish.

At this Orthodox service we pray and sing, and hear seven epistle readings and seven Gospel readings by, ideally, seven priests. Last night we only had one bishop and four priests, which meant that when we got to the anointings “for the healing of soul and body,” we had just five of those. Surely they were more than adequate to convey this special grace during Lent. One of the epistle readings included this passage from the book of James:

Is anyone among you suffering? Let him pray. Is anyone cheerful? Let him sing psalms. Is anyone among you sick? Let him call for the elders of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise him up. And if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven.

(I didn’t take pictures at the service, but I found online these images that are typical.)

Since I opened my sleepy eyes I’ve been blissful knowing that I didn’t have to watch the clock, or change my clothes and get in the car to go anywhere. Much of my morning could be contemplative. Though my supply is very low, there were plenty of logs still, to keep the fire going and the house cozy. It seemed the most blessed day. Once, for a brief moment, a thought came to mind, comparing my life to the “old times” of a few years or decades ago — but I regained my focus pretty fast.

After dinner I was reading in a church calendar that has quotes for every day. This one from St. Luke the Blessed Surgeon was just on point:

It is not right to speak of the former years and to bless them and to curse our own age. We must know that in every age and in every place, people who actually seek their salvation find it.

-St. Luke of Simferopol and Crimea

St. Luke might well have reason to bless his former life, that is: before his wife died leaving their four children motherless, before Lenin came to power, and before his three imprisonments and torture. He had his priorities right, as you can see by reading his life here.

It’s likely that sometime in the future I will fall into longing backward for days like today; I hope the example of St. Luke will help me to cut it short and be fully present in whatever kind of days lie ahead. But for today, his exhortation made me glad that I had been able to be here and now, and that the here was at home.

Shopping, cooking, and singing.

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This week I’ve been blessed to have several days when I was able to stay home all day. I have a big sorting-and-organizing project upstairs, figuring out how to use my new closets and cabinets, and deciding what things to throw out because I begrudge them the space. But I didn’t end up spending much time on that.

One day I was on the prosphora baking team at church…

… and since that got me out of the house in the morning, I just kept going and did a lot of grocery shopping in the afternoon, five stores. First I went to the Thai market, where it’s fun to see what exotic snacks and goodies they have in stock. Often it’s a mochi type of treat that I try out, and this time I found these, chewy with a black sesame paste filling.

I enjoyed them very much, but the ingredients label made me resolve to make my own mochi again, at home. I already have mochi flour (mochiko) that I also buy at the Thai market. My friend Elsie brought me a mochi cookbook from Hawaii one time and I have been wanting to try out some more recipes from it again.

I bought Asian yams, green onions, and several pounds of ginger root at that market. It was time to make a big batch of ginger broth.

As I drove around to the other less interesting stores I listened to music in the car. Gordon Bok was singing one of his sailor songs, and though I am not a sailor I love to hear him sing about anything, his voice is so rich; it is a feast for my ears. Here he is in a sample I found: Sailor’s Prayer by Gordon Bok

It was 90 degrees that afternoon when I brought home my bags of groceries, and it would be hotter still the next day, when I had to wait at least until the evening to cook, so that the heat could go out the windows when we open them at sundown. It was supposed to be cooler the following day. I did start my ginger broth and roast a couple of pans of onions that evening — oh, and two pans of Brussels sprouts.

The next day, which was this morning, I thought I would just bottle up the broth and put it in the freezer, and get on with my sorting project. But one thing led to another…. I needed to wash the big pots and my breakfast dishes, of course. The cooked ginger went into the food processor, because I can’t bear to throw it out, but always use it to make puddings or breads. I decided to make bread with my ginger paste right then, so I found a recipe for zucchini bread to work from, and substituted ginger for zucchini.

The roofers were working in the morning, and they finished by early afternoon. It is such a weight off my mind to have a new roof, my whole body felt lighter and ready for more work. The bread went into the oven and I washed more dishes, and Aaron came to work on my garage project. I was happy to send him home with a loaf of bread, because I’m realizing that I like cooking too much for one person. When I start cooking I just do not want to stop.

The weather really cooled off today, so I am hopeful that my sweet peas will grow longer stems again for a week or two before they expire from heat. I had to hunt down shorter vases and bottles to put them in the last few days. This one color is my favorite this year, and I was able to make a whole little bouquet of them, which will be my closing image here, as I’ve cleaned up the kitchen for the last time and am going up to bed. Good night!