Chasing Serenity

 

Sunset Beach Pier, Sunset Beach, NC

I haven't written anything in so long, except in my head, that I am not sure where to begin. The only use this blog has seen has been the search bar as when I look for recipes. I still have this blogspot blog and still haven't figured out how to transfer the content to my other one. Maybe one day.

Life got in the way of writing. I thought that the life events of the past few years would inspire me to write, but that just did not happen. Oh, I wrote stories in my head while in the shower, but they never made it to either paper or my keyboard. I bought journals. They sat empty, staring at me, hoping to be of some use. I bought pens. It's kind of an obsession with me. I used them to make to-do and grocery store lists. They have a higher purpose. They stand at attention in my pen cup, waiting to be called into active duty.

So, what happened? Life turned to black and white for me. Covid hit the world. I had a student trip to France planned for March 2020 that was cancelled about 10 days before departure. I thought that our head of school was being unreasonably paranoid. But by the time we would have returned, the US borders were closed. So, I had one last weekend of fun attending the wedding of my BFF's oldest son in Wilmington. Alone. The Ex-Ex believed that the Covid threat was real. School shut down. I learned how to use Microsoft Teams, Zoom, Loom and any other number of online tools for teaching. I took online courses on how to teach online. I hated every second of it. I did a lot of neighborhood walking. It was a lovely spring. Thank you, God. I baked a lot of bread. When I could find yeast. Seems I wasn't the only one firing up the oven. Thank you, SG, for supplying yeast and to all who graciously accepted my misshapen loaves. We wore masks and we stayed home. For what seemed like an eternity. None of my close friends or relatives died. That was a blessing. Once again, thank you, God. I finally got back to traveling with my students in June 2022. I caught Covid and tested positive the day I returned. I lived upstairs, recovering from Covid and jet lag. Thank you, doctors and scientists, for the vaccines I gladly received. My case was minor. Life is back to normal. Well, our new normal anyway. A story for the history books.

The second blow to my life was much more difficult. I learned that Son #1 is an addict. There were signs that I refused to heed until I could no longer deny it. I write about it with his permission. He talks openly about it at his meetings and we talk about it as a family. I cannot imagine his struggle. I can only speak about mine. I felt cheated. I came into this life as the child of an alcoholic and I am going to leave it as the mother of an addict? Seriously, God? What did I do wrong? I felt overwhelming guilt and examined every mistake I made as a mother. And to be honest, there is still some lingering guilt. I saw my therapist. She suggested finding a Nar-Anon Family Group. I found one that meets just right up the street from me (although the meetings are now online due to Covid). I got some literature from the group and read through it and realized, after reading the Serenity Prayer and the 12 Steps, that I had found my people. People who knew exactly what I was/am going through. We got Son #1 home finally after he detoxed. The world's most amazing little girl, my granddaughter, moved in with her maternal grandparents. Thank you, T and G. We still did not know what we were dealing with however. We didn't realize that addiction can rarely be helped by oneself. Relapse happened right under our roof. More denial. More sleepless nights. More resentment. Mostly fear. Fear robs you of joy. My life was joy-less. What do you write about when you have no joy? And who would even want to read it? We were not ready to share our story. Neither Son #1 nor me. A friend of mine in whom I confided because she had confided in me about her son's addiction told me about a program in Raleigh. Thank you, Friend. I called, left a message, and a person called me back. He had been through the program, was now employed there, and he gave me his cell phone number and told me to call him when my son was ready to get help. Thank you, B. That day came the Saturday before I was to leave for my June 2022 student trip. I had been planning it for months, I had 16 people who had invested thousands of dollars depending on me to make this an amazing experience. The Ex-Ex was rightfully afraid to be home alone though. Our son had overdosed and had been home from the hospital for only a few days. We had a heated discussion about it standing in the hallway of our home. Son #1 came downstairs with his backpack and announced that he was ready to go. As he now tells the story, I had him in the car as quickly as possible and came only to a rolling stop at Healing Transitions before kicking him out. My contact met us there and took over. That was 13 months ago. He only called us once to come get him, about three weeks into the program. We said no. He had by then figured out that I did not tell him that he would be sleeping on the floor at first and that this is a 9-12 month program. After he moved into HT, while I was in France, I got a call from the woman in charge of families. She reached out to me about their support group. I found another group of people who know what it is like to have an addicted love one. Thank you, RS. I have learned so much about addiction. I can put away the anger that I have felt for so many years for my dad. I realize now that it wasn't just weakness on his part or a lack of love for his family. My dad's alcoholism and my son's addiction are not about me. I probably passed on a gene, but that is not my fault. I have learned that I am in control of very little in this world. I am in control of me, my actions and my thoughts. I have learned that self-care is of the utmost importance if I am to get through this. I have learned that acceptance brings hope. Son #1 has made some incredible life-long friends. Friends who will see him through this if he continues to allow them to. Thank you, JC (and family), FJ and many, many more. He is learning to accept himself just as I am learning to accept myself. Shortcomings and all. I have rediscovered joy and found a slice of serenity. I am trying to take life one day at a time and not "borrow trouble" as Mama Mildred has often reminded me. Thank you, Ex-Ex, Son #2 and Amazing Daughter-in-law, the BFF, and others who allowed me to rage, cry, and generally lose my sanity. Thank you, Son #1 for your courage and bravery.

I still feel the need to post a recipe, just like in the old days. I found this one and gave it a try and plan to make it again soon. It's that good.

Baked Gruyère Tomato Bruschetta from Half Baked Harvest

I shopped for the ingredients at my local Trader Joe's. Yep, I left my zip code and drove to Chapel Hill!

1 baguette, halved, each half cut into 4 pieces

1/4 c. basil pesto

1 lb. shredded Gruyère cheese (it can be expensive, but less so at Trader Joe's) or Gouda or a mixture

1 Tbsp. chopped fresh thyme or rosemary

4 cloves garlic, grated

Sea salt, black pepper, chili flakes, to taste

2 tsp. honey

1 c. cherry tomatoes, sliced in half

3 oz. prosciutto, torn in pieces

Olive oil, for drizzling

Fresh basil, for serving

Preheat oven or grill to 425˚F.

Arrange baguette halves on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Spread evenly with pesto, then add the cheese.

Mix the garlic, rosemary/thyme and chili flakes with your fingers, then sprinkle over the cheese. Drizzle with honey. Add the tomatoes. Drape the prosciutto over the tomatoes. Drizzle everything with olive oil.

Bake for 10 minutes, until cheese is bubbly. Top with fresh basil. Eat warm and enjoy with extra honey, sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, if desired.

Bon appétit and a grand merci to all out there who are our supporters and cheerleaders. You know who you are.

God grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the Courage to change the ones I can, and the Wisdom to know the difference.

Summer Reading 2018

This is what I am currently reading. A former student who is now one of my beloved colleagues gave it to me this spring. I think she found it at our annual book fair, one of my favorite school-related events. It is a great read- kind of like peeking in the window and watching Renoir, Monet, Degas, Cézanne, Pissarro, Sisley, Manet (although he did not want to identify as an Impressionist), Morisot and Cassatt in their studios. They were so unappreciated (that is an understatement) and many of them struggled to make ends meet and provide for their families. Roe decided to write this book and concentrate on the 26 years, 1860-1886, between their first encounters with each other and 1886 when Parisian art dealer Paul Durand-Ruel got on a boat with 300 of their paintings and set sail for New York City. I even discovered that Monet briefly set up residence at the Hôtel Londres et New York, across from the Gare St. Lazare, the hotel where I stay with my students every March. Quelle coïncidence.

I have finished my faculty summer reading book.

Each spring, we are asked to “nominate” books we think are valuable to read and then when the list is pared down, we choose our book. When school starts back in August, we will have book discussions. Another reason to love my school. I couldn’t put this book down although it was very disturbing. The hardships of a young mixed race boy, Jojo, and his family in Mississippi isn’t necessarily “pretty” reading. Throw in Parchman, the state penitentiary, white racist grandparents, a drug addict mother, a grandmother dying of cancer, and family members who can see and hear the unsettled dead and it is pretty intense reading.

Love and Ruin by Paula McLain is the story of Ernest Hemingway and Martha Gellhorn. She was a war correspondant and Hemingway’s third wife. A great read. I wasn’t sure that I would like it after falling in love with Hadley, Hemingway’s first wife, while reading The Paris Wife also by McLain. I now have an immense amount of respect for Gellhorn and her courage.

This Dark Road to Mercy by Wiley Cash is set in North Carolina and is the story of two little girls, living in an orphanage since the death of their drug-addicted mom. Their father comes to get them and they have quite an adventure. Dangerous and dark at times. Throw in some baseball and it is a great story. I have enjoyed all of Cash’s books. He is a good North Carolina boy and I especially love him for that.

I indulged in Nicholas Sparks’ Two by Two while at the beach with Sister Moo and Best Niece. Who doesn’t need a quick read like this once in a while? A man who learns how to be a single dad and take care of his Barbie doll-loving daughter while coping with a wife who no longer loves him and for whom he has never been a good enough husband.

The Chocolate War by Martin Walker is a short story starring Bruno, chief of police in a small village in southern France. I have a huge crush on Bruno and have loved all of the mysteries he has solved.

Charles Salzberg is a writer I have gotten to know a bit through Facebook and email. Second Story Man is his latest and I couldn’t put it down- which meant reading way past my bedtime a couple of nights. “Francis Hoyt, arrogant, athletic, brilliant, manipulative and ruthless, is a master burglar.” That line alone should hook you. I would love to attend Charles’ New York Writers Workshop someday…

The Alice Network by Kate Quinn tops the list of books I have recently read. It is the story of a woman recruited as a spy during WWI and an American who is searching for her lost cousin in 1947. The novel is set in France and takes the reader back and forth between the two wars and the story of amazing women doing what they could to help their country win the war. This is subject that I can’t seem to read enough about these days. Meeting Monique Saigal while in Paris in March, listening to her story, and then reading her book, French Heroines, 1940-1945, were life changing experiences for me. At the age of 3, Monique was put on a train by her Jewish grandmother to get her out of Paris and to a safer place in the southwest France during WWII. Monique was taken in by a young woman and her father and given a new identity, that of a Catholic child, for nine years. Her grandmother died at Auschwitz one month after putting Monique on that fateful train. Many thanks to Niece M for pointing me towards The Alice Network. She read it for a book club organized by someone at her workplace.

I have a couple of books waiting in the wings (in addition to a couple of books on designing curriculum…).

I found this one at Flyleaf Books in Chapel Hill while waiting to have a delicious dinner next door at Kitchen with Mme M. Looks good, n’est-ce pas? I love Flyleaf. And books about eating.

And last, but not least, on my list at the moment is Ann Mah‘s latest book, released in June, The Lost Vintage. I am a big Ann fan. I learned quite a bit while reading Mastering the Art of French Eating. Ann even sent me a signed book plate for my book. Her newsletters are always full of great information and her website includes recipes. The sure way to my heart.

So there you have it. Not a complete list, but definitely the highlights. Reading is one of my greatest passions. Mlle Adorable, my 16-month-old granddaughter, is already showing signs of being an avid reader When she comes to visit, she heads straight for her stack of books. This is my favorite photo of her and Granddad, taken a couple of weeks ago at Sunset Beach.

Bon appétit! “Reading can seriously damage your ignorance.” Spread the word and keep reading. If you have any suggestions, please leave a comment!

City Daily Photo- ME!

City Daily Photo‘s June theme is ME.  I found this out by looking at Virginia Jones’ Paris Through My Lens blogpost. This photo of ME was taken by a student during our 2017 school trip to France. We spent a week in Paris and then headed south on the TGV to Avignon. It was a gorgeous day so, on the way to Arles where we were going to spend a couple of days before returning home, we stopped at the Pont du Gard. We all put our toes in the water and spent a couple of hours lounging about like lizards, sunning ourselves in the March sunshine.

I first visited the Pont du Gard in 1987, the first time I took students to France. I have been back several times since then, with friends, with clients when I worked with Chef Érick in Arles, with students. It is an amazing place. One of my favorites places in the world.

How about a Tomato Tart today? Dreaming of Provence in the summer makes me think of it. This recipe is from Recipes from Provence, René Husson, Éditions Fleurines, 2006. The dedication says:

  For those who love Provence … C’est moi! Definitely ME!

Tomato Tart  Tarto à la poumo d’amour

Pie crust (make your own or buy one that you roll out)

500 grams (1 pound) tomatoes

200 grams (10 ounces) slices of swiss/gruyère cheese

100 grams (1 cup) grated cheese

1 sprig of thyme

bread crumbs

Dijon-style mustard

olive oil

salt, pepper

Peel, seed and slice the tomatoes in rounds. (I don’t do this… I just slice them!)

Put the pie crust in a pie pan and spread a nice layer of mustard on the bottom.

Lay the cheese slices on top, then cover with the tomato rounds, salt and pepper.

Sprinkle with the grated cheese and the crumbled thyme.

Drizzle all over with olive oil.

Place in a hot oven for 40 minutes. (Not much direction here… other recipes I have used call for 20-25 minutes at 400˚F- until crust is golden brown and tomatoes have started to shrivel.)

Here are three older posts on my Blogspot blog with recipes for tomato tart/pie–

#1  #2  #3

Bon appétit, mes amies et mes amis! Enjoy this beautiful Saturday! Bake something good for someone. Or just for yourself. Do you have a favorite photo of yourself? Does it bring back a happy memory? I hope so!

Procrasti-baking and The Power of Love

Yes, it’s a thing. I saw it on Facebook and, frankly, I was relieved. The article, from the New York Times on-line, entitled Why Work When You Can Procrastibake? starts this way:

All procrastibakers do not bake alike.

Procrastibaking — the practice of baking something completely unnecessary, with the intention of avoiding “real” work — is a surprisingly common habit that has only recently acquired a name. Medical students, romance writers, freelance web designers: Almost anyone who works at home and has a cookie sheet in the cupboard can try it.

“I started procrastibaking in college as a way to feel productive while also avoiding my schoolwork,” said Wesley Straton, a graduate student in Brooklyn. “Baking feels like a low-stakes artistic outlet.”

 Hooked me pretty quick. There is a name for what I do to put off doing other stuff. As I said before, relief.

I have projects to grade, quizzes to mark, letters to write to 8th graders, lessons to plan and placement tests to score. So, how did I spend my afternoon? Making strawberry shortcakes. And just why not?  I have heard that some suffer from procrasti-cleaning. Thank God I don’t have that affliction.

I found the recipe on Two Peas and their Pod.  They are really just sweet biscuits. Some of mine turned out lop-sided, but that’s okay. I am not a perfectionist. Just don’t have it in me.

Our final Supper Club “meeting” at Dear Friend’s house was a lot of fun. And crazy delicious. Beck’s Mom made her signature appetizers, Brie Bites. Phyllo dough “cups” with a piece of double creme Brie, some raspberry-jalapeño jam, and pecans baked in the oven, then a sprinkle of (French) sea salt added and baked a bit longer. (I ate two, showing great restraint, because I could have eaten every single one of them.)

Miss Molly brought Caprese salad- another of my all-time favorites. I took two of these as well. Symmetry?

Dear Friend and Hubby provided roasted potatoes,

salmon cooked in his outdoor smoker and very tender roast beef.

I had a very special helper when it came time for dessert. Dear Friend’s oldest granddaughter, who is the spitting image of her mom at this age, helped me make the whipped cream and was my taste-tester par excellence.  She also served everyone their dessert. Not that I want my Darling Granddaughter to grow up too fast, but I cannot wait to give her her first apron and a stepping stool for my kitchen!

Et voilà! Our strawberry shortcakes.

Strawberry Shortcake and I go way back. Growing up, I always asked Mama Mildred to make this for my birthday. You can use Angel food cake, regular yellow or white cake or real shortbread. I opted for sweet biscuits. Strawberries are in season. Go for it!

I need to get this post done or I will start suffering from procrasti-blogging… The stack of work is staring me in the face right this moment.

Strawberry Shortcakes

makes 8

for the strawberries:

• 1 1/2 pounds strawberries, stemmed and sliced or quartered
• 1/3 cup granulated sugar

for the shortcakes:

• 3 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/4 cup granulated sugar
• 2 tablespoons baking powder
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 3/4 cup cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
• 1 1/3 cups cold heavy cream
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 2 tablespoons heavy cream, for brushing on shortcakes
• Turbinado sugar, for sprinkling on shortcakes

for the whipped cream:

• 1 cup heavy whipping cream
• 3 tablespoons confectioners’ sugar
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• Pinch of salt

1.  Hull and slice the strawberries and place them into a large bowl. (I saved a few whole ones to use as garnish.) Cover with granulated sugar and stir. Cover and refrigerate the strawberries while you make the shortcakes so they can get juicy.
2. Preheat oven to 425˚ F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper. Set aside.
3. In a large bowl, sift or whisk together the flour, sugar, and baking powder. Mix in the salt. Add the small pieces of cold butter and use a pastry blender, fork, or your clean hands to cut the butter into the dry ingredients. Mix until you have pieces that are the size of peas.
4. In a small bowl, stir together the cold heavy cream and vanilla extract. Pour the mixture over the flour mixture and stir until just combined. You may need to add a bit more cream, if the mixture is too dry. Turn out onto a floured surface and lightly knead the dough together to incorporate all of the crumbly dough pieces.  Do not over mix or your biscuits will not be as tender.
5. Press the dough into a circle, about 1-inch thick and cut into rounds, using a biscuit cutter. Place the biscuits on the prepared baking sheet, about 2 inches apart. Place the pan in the refrigerator and chill the biscuits for 20 minutes before baking.
6. Using a pastry brush, brush the chilled biscuit tops with heavy cream. Sprinkle tops generously with turbinado sugar.
7. Bake the biscuits until golden brown, about 15-20 minutes. Let cool completely.
8. While the biscuits are cooling, make the whipped cream. Using an electric mixer, whip the heavy cream, sugar, vanilla, and pinch of salt together until the cream reaches stiff peaks.
9. To assemble the shortcakes, cut the biscuits in half horizontally. Spoon the strawberries over the bottom of the biscuit and add a dollop of whipped cream. Top with the other biscuit half. Add more strawberries and whipped cream on top, if desired. You can also break up the biscuits and top them with strawberries and whipped cream or leave them whole and add strawberries and whipped cream on top.

Make Ahead-if you want to make the shortcake biscuits ahead of time, you can. Place unbaked biscuits on a lined baking sheet and freeze. When frozen, transfer the biscuits to a freezer bag and freeze for up to one month. When ready to bake, preheat oven to 425 degrees and bake for 23-26 minutes. You can also freeze baked shortcakes in a freezer bag for up to one month. Defrost before serving. You can warm them up in the oven, if desired.

Bon appétit to all strawberry lovers out there. I am deeply sorry for you if you are allergic to these heavenly delights. Substitute juicy ripe peaches or blackberries. If you didn’t watch The Wedding (I didn’t), at least listen to or read Bishop Michael Curry’s sermon. Amen, Reverend. Let’s spread the message of LOVE. There is power in love.

Getting along

So, I have not always been a Kenny Chesney fan. (Sorry, Kenny.) Just for the past few years. Welcome to the Fishbowl, released in 2012, was the first album by him that I bought. And I still listen to it all the way through. The BFF saw him in concert a few years back and started trying to convince me of his talent. It took me a while to come around. Thanks to Daddy, I grew up listening to country music. Then I went through a phase when I swore that I would never, ever listen to that stuff. What goes around comes around, right? I rediscovered country music in the ’80’s. It’s changed since the Johnny Cash days. I like songs that tell a story. Sad songs. Real songs. Songs with a message. Songs that just make me feel something. It was a good day on my way home from school yesterday when a new song came on 93.9. I immediately took to it. I loved the lyrics.

A man wearin’ a t-shirt, says “Virginia is for lovers”
Had a Bible in his left hand and a bottle in the other
He says “All you’re really given is the sunshine and your name”
We both started laughin’ when the sky started to rain

Get along, on down the road
We’ve got a long long way to go
Scared to live, scared to die
We ain’t perfect but we try
Get along while we can
Always give love the upper hand
Paint a wall, learn to dance
Call your mom, buy a boat
Drink a beer, sing a song
Make a friend, can’t we all get along

Saw a model on a billboard, 1-800 get to know me
Wondered was she photoshopped, or were her eyes really that lonely?
Did she leave her hometown thinkin’ she’d end up in L.A.?
Did she break down in the desert and get stuck beside the highway?

Get along, on down the road
We’ve got a long long way to go
Scared to live, scared to die
We ain’t perfect but we try
Get along while we can
Always give love the upper hand
Paint a wall, learn to dance
Call your mom, buy a boat
Drink a beer, sing a song
Make a friend, can’t we all get along

We find out when you die the keys to heaven can’t be bought
We still don’t know what love is but we sure know what it’s not
Sometimes you got to

Get along, on down the road
We’ve got a long long way to go
Scared to live, scared to die
We ain’t perfect but we try
Get along while we can
Always give love the upper hand
Paint a wall, learn to dance
Call your mom, buy a boat
Drink a beer, sing a song
Make a friend, can’t we all get along

(lyrics from genius.com)

It sounds too simple. Can’t we all get along? Sometimes these days and times it doesn’t feel like it.

On Mother’s Day, I went to school and picked strawberries out of our garden.

I decided to make strawberry bread for my colleagues. It was a hit.

Fresh Strawberry Quick Bread

from An Italian in My Kitchen

Ingredients

• 1/4 cup butter softened
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 1 egg
• 2 cups flour
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup milk
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla
• 1 1/2 cups chopped strawberries

Topping (optional)

• 3 teaspoons brown sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

Simple glaze (optional)

• 1/2 cup powdered / icing sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla
• 1 tablespoon milk
• 1 tablespoon cream

Instructions

Pre-heat oven to 350°F  (180°C Celisius).  Grease and flour a 9 – 9 1/2 inch (24 centimeter) loaf pan.

In a medium bowl cream butter and sugar add egg and combine.

n a medium bowl whisk together flour, baking powder and salt.

With a wooden spoon add flour mixture alternately with the milk to the creamed mixture in three parts, then add vanilla, mix just until combined. Gently fold in the strawberries.

Spoon batter into prepared loaf pan, if desired sprinkle with topping, if desired. Bake for approximately 50 minutes.  Let cool completely before drizzling with simple glaze, if desired.

Glaze

In a small bowl, mix together until smooth: icing sugar, vanilla, cream and milk. Mixture should be quite thick.

Bon appétit, Kenny Chesney. Sorry I missed you last weekend in Raleigh. Maybe next time? Let’s try to get along. We’ve got a long long way to go. Call your mom. We ain’t perfect but we try. Make a friend. Get along.