There is nothing like a hot cup of freshly brewed tea on a cold winter day. We'd gone up to Seattle to see my daughter Laurel and her husband Mehran on the weekend, and we took Taraz and Rahmat along. George was lamenting here, explaining to Mehran that he jimmied up his iPod somehow, and now must reprogram all the songs he spent countless hours preparing for it. That means going to the library, finding the CD's and reprograming his iPod. Mehran had a few suggestions how to speed up the process. I was sure glad, cause since last May I've become an iPod Widow, a new term that must be put into the dictionary, to indicate the absense of the husband from normal evening pursuits. He's up in his study, programing his iPod. Once that was done, he was able to present many musical selections at family gatherings and at Baha'i festivities. With his little white 'dock', it meant carrying around a small speaker and the iPod. What a change from lugging around 4 huge speakers, his amplifier and sound systems, and all the CD's. The iPod simplified his life.

Rahmat brought out his Wii, and all of us took turns bowling. I never got a strike, but I did get a spare. Frankly, I like real bowling alleys, with the bowling teams all around, and the sounds of people shouting. However, I haven't been to one of these in decades. (We used to have Saturday morning breakfasts at the local bowling alley on Saturday mornings. George and I enjoyed getting a cheap breakfast there before we'd head out canoeing.)
Laurel prepared some late lunch for herself and the boys. She is the most knowledgable of my kids when it comes to good nutrition, living 'green', and shopping wisely. She has filtered water, all organic food, and even knows the 'good plastic from the bad', namely, the lower the recycle number on the bottom of the container the safer it is. She doesn't use her microwave, and won't store food in any plastic containers. She uses glass.

This organic coffee was a gift from Laurel to me - she says to go only organic, as coffee is one of those food products that can contain too many chemicals, sprayed on the crop. (Our friend Cornelia, a naturapathic doctor, says the same. Too many pesticides, fungicides, herbacides, ect.)

Taraz, Laurel and Rahmat.

Taraz and Buddy, Laurel's lab.
I should have taken the time to ask Mehran what this Arabic writing meant. His family lives in Iran. He went to boarding school in India when he was around 14, just as the Ayatollah came into power. Many of the Baha'is left the country due to religious persecution. Once here they all do extremely well, excelling in the professions that are of greatest benefit to humanity. This persecution is still happening today. Haleh Rouhi Jahromi, Raha Sabet Sarvestani and Sasan Taqva, all Baha’is, have been detained by the Ministry of Intelligence in Shiraz since 19 November 2007. It is not clear why they are held. They may be prisoners of conscience, detained solely because of their religious beliefs, or their peaceful activities teaching underprivileged children.

( I've posted more family photos of our visit in our Flickr Account.)

And, how did we end the visit? Looking at THIS!, courtesy of TheTrailerTrash. My caption: "They never told us THAT in premarital counseling!

Let's See, Did She Want Organic ?

Whenever I cook for my family (Thanksgiving photo here, courtesy of Ruhiyyih's Flickr account) , I have a multitude of issues that have to be considered, all of which require that I stop what I'm doing, and ask "will he, or she, EAT this?"

Of the various and sundry members of our family, it seems like just about everyone has a specific requirement. Some are restricted by diabetes, some eat only organic. Some of the guys eat very little meat, and others require heavy protein diets because they expend a lot of calories in their work.

One of my daughters had a raw food diet for awhile, and has vegetables delivered to her door so that they are farm fresh. My other daughter shops at the Whole Foods Store, and loves to use coupons and shop the bargains.Not only must it be organic, super wholesome and fresh, but she must feel like she shopped wisely. I can appreciate that. But, to be honest, I find coupons and those sales featured in the local paper to be a huge waste of my time. I'd have to find the scissors to cut out the coupons, and I'd never be patient doling them out at the check-out counter. There are always shoppers behind me wishing I'd just hurry up.

When I shop, I have a list, and it is never for foods for a meal. It is to replenish what has been taken out of our pantry. You see, people come and go around here - they drop in, and raid the pantry. One day I'll have a can of sardines, and the next moment it is gone, pilfered, with half the contents still in the can, drying out in the refrigerator. I figure if my pantry is well-stocked, I can cook any meal, for any particular person, in short order. So, I even stock my shelves in a certain order, so that I'll know if something is missing. That way, if I make a mistake or need to build-up a recipe, I'll have what I need, and not need to go to the grocery store. I also post notes: Don't take! This is for the pizza. I also hide trail-mix in my closet. Otherwise, I see tell-tale signs from the crumbs in between the sofa cushions, and I'm 'up the creek' with nothing to pack.

So, this leads to the real subject of this post - I splurged the other day, and brought home $200.00 worth of cookbooks. When I told George, he said, "You did what?"

I laid them out on the sofa and chuckled, "The Library had a book sale, and I got all of them for $7.50! When I put them in my bag, the librarian said, "Thanks for supporting your library." None of the books were part of the stacks, but rather donated by people in the community. So, all of them were barely used.

These now line my bookshelf:
"The Frugal Gourmet Cooks Italian" by Jeff Smith
"Monet's Table - The Cooking Journals of Claude Monet" by Claire Joyes
"The International Breakfast Book - Greet the Day with 100 Recipes from Around the World" by Martha Hollis
"Tamasin's Kitchen Classics" by Tamasin Day-Lewis
Clare Connery and Christopher Hill's "The Salad Book" - fantastic pictures
"The Complete Book of Herbs and Spices" - an illustrated guide to growing and using aromatic, cosmetic, culinary, and medicinal plants by Sarah Garland
"The Encyclopedia of Herbs Spices and Flavorings" by Elizabeth Lambert Ortiz
"Christopher Idone's Salad Days" is filled with beautiful photographs
"Prescription for Nutritional Healing - a reference book for drug-free remedies using vitamins, minerals, herbs and food supplements

I've already started "Monet's Table", which features his kitchen and garden, and photos of his journal. The pages in his journal are frayed and show an exacting detail for procedures and orderliness. The main meal of the day would be served at 11:30. Guests toured his greenhouse and studio, and stayed for lunch. Then he was left alone for the rest of the day.

The photographs in Tamasin Day-Lewis's book show a woman who loves to cook. She vows to bring fresh tastes and scents to 'jaded palates' and offers a no-nonsense approach to cooking, with New World dishes and Old World ones, like wild boar stew.....hmmmmm, now, where would I find wild boar. (On the other hand, would anyone in my family EAT wild boar. Lets see, who is vegetarian, and who insists on organic and grass-fed, and...)

I wonder, will wild boar ever go on sale? Only one boar per customer?

Not Keeping Score

Everyone has their own particular way of shutting down at the end of the day, and of falling asleep. For many years I had a hot soaking bath followed by a cup of cocoa. Then, I'd read for an hour before bedtime. (Sometimes, the kids or George would read to me!) But, the habit of reading for an hour has always been what I use to prepare for sleep.

I've traveled all over the world at bedtime, through the written narratives of people who explore and travel. They book the passage, pack their bags, and let me know just what surprises occurred along the way.

In one of the recent books I just finished, "Seasons in Basilicata", by David Yeadon, he describes going down into a little Greek village to purchase vegetables at the market. He was the typical jovial tourist, eager to try out the fresh tomatoes, zucchini and onions that an old woman sold from her garden. But as he negotiated the price, as is done there, she got more and more forlorn about relinguishing her precious tomatoes to a stranger. She told him not to purchase them, and clutched her hands together. It was like loosing a child to loose her tomatoes. Of course, I was delighted to hear this story, as oftentimes a gardener gets so caught up in promoting the growth of their crops that they despair of having to cook them. They want to look at them just awhile longer.

I can get so caught up in a good book, that I hate to see it end. That is what has recently happened with "Greek Style" by Suzanne Slesin, a wonderful picture-book of interiors.
For a month I studied every image, researching the stone floors, the lime-washing on exteriors, and generally determining why they had to live the way they did, with the utmost simplicity. Every evening before I went to bed, I'd review many of the photographs, and grew so attached to this book, that I told my sister Bonnie that I was going to try to find a copy in a used-book store. When I mentioned how much I loved the book, she ordered a copy online. It didn't have the same effect on her as it did on me. Pebble floors and harsh white-wash didn't appeal to her. The sparse interiors didn't reflect the comforts she prefers - like electricity and running water. Many of the homes had only two-burner propane stoves, and kerosene lamps for light. We exchanged a few e-mails, and she said she would send me her copy of the book!

I wrote to her: "I've come to understand why their dwellings look as they do. Although you don't care for them, I do enjoy the sparseness, the 'make-do' quality, perhaps for the same reasons I like to 'rough it' when we camp, having to find substitutions for getting by, and actually experiencing privation. Where did they get fresh water for bathing? Did they bathe? How did they remove bathroom contents from their homes - no septic tanks or plumbing? Electric lines are forbidden in many of these little villages, as they are considered an eyesore! That's why there are kerosene lamps on every windowsill."

"The walls of the houses had to be very thick, and window- shutters were kept closed during the day to shut out the heat. Wind was an ever- present condition (thus windmills for energy to grind grain). Mold and mildew, scorpions and snakes, are the bane in this area. If buildings are not whitewashed yearly, the rocks become encrusted with the most wretched black mold - you can see it in some of the street corners in cities where there are no regulations about its removal. I recall, when we were in Europe, how this encrusted stuff ultimately ruined the appearance of many of the buildings in Venice, and how they had a massive cleaning- up program to restore the statues back to their original pristine image. In some sites in Greece it is the law to whitewash, and yes it can have the effect of a brutal glare. I don't especially care for it. However when I saw the mold in some of those photos, I sure did want to get out my bleach!"

So, our e-mail conversation went back and forth, and yesterday I received the book, with the note, "Here's something for bedtime, love Bonnie!"

Turkish Red Lentil Soup With Cornbread

Cornbread with mozzarella cheese and a little sugar sprinkled on the top. Incredibly fluffy and light, and mouth-watering warm. I drizzle a little honey on mine. I always slather the top of the cornbread with butter when it comes out of the oven, to soften the crust.

The Turkish Red Lentil Soup had cumin, paprika, cayenne pepper, and a bit of salsa piccante to jazz it up. I added sauted onion, carrot, celery and garlic, then added it to the cooking stock which contained several ham hocks. The lentils were simmered along with green soybeans I keep in the freezer. They are so pretty.

Yes, we've had a dusting of snow, and the weather reports around here are indicating more snow is on its way! The higher elevations will get the most - almost a foot of new snow will fall. But here in Tacoma, what falls tends to melt within hours.

I went for my daily walk, and enjoyed the foot-prints.

Angel In The Clouds

Our Baha'i friend Kathy gave me this carved agate of an angel in prayer. I've placed it on my window sill, and I try to imagine sometimes what 'she' would say, all captivated there with her little hands clutched to her breast.

Almost every time I look at her, I'm washing dishes or chopping vegetables, always in a hurry. She sits and waits.

Yesterday I took the cotton out of a medicine bottle, and put it on the window sill, to save it for later. It was tightly wadded, and somehow it just didn't look right, so I pulled the strands out, fluffing them. Then, I tucked the ends around her skirt. It created this heavenly effect, just perfect! It was like she had been waiting for this! Her little heart of stone is now drifting in the clouds.

Spaghetti Alla Fornaia It's Not

I found this recipe in Lorenza de' Medici's book, "Tuscany the Beautiful". But, big concern: the recipe called for walnuts and finely chopped parsley, which I didn't have.

So, I just used some seasoned meat (from the 'reduced price for quick sale') that George brought home. I used a little celery and green onion, and threw in the requisite olive oil, garlic, fresh Parmesan cheese and crushed bread crumbs.

It turned out so good! There is nothing like a mound of pasta!

Martin Luther King Day Celebrations

These little cookies were baked by our friend Debbie, who served them at her annual Martin Luther King Day luncheon in her home. They are the sweetest idea, illustrating the collaboration that all of us must have to help address the unity of all races.

Debbie, pictured on the left, hosts this gathering in her home, and many of the guests bring side-dishes and desserts to compliment the ham that she prepares.

The luncheon follows Tacoma's annual MLK Day Celebration at the Tacoma Dome. This year over 2,600 people gathered in Exhibition Hall, to mark the achievements of the women of the civil rights movement - Harriet Tubman, Rosa Parks, Shirley Chisholm, Coretta Scott King, and Eleanor Roosevelt. Roosevelt was one of many DAR members who resigned from the Daughters of the American Revolution in 1938 when they refused permission for Anderson to sing to an integrated audience in Constitution Hall. The program had fantastic music, inspiring lectures, dance, and comments by local community leaders. Our governor, Christine Gregoire, also spoke and congratulated the organizers of Tacoma's Martin Luther King Day on their 20th year. Community Service Awards were given to Bernice Griffin and Melannie Cunningham by Tacoma's Human Rights and Human Services Department.

I'll post the photo's I took that afternoon in our Flickr account.

There is nothing like a market to chase away the winter doldrums! George suggested going up to Seattle on Sunday, where he and Rahmat had been the day before, participating in Seattle's Intensive Program of Growth. As he described the enthusiasm of the friends there, I imagined all kinds of wonderful energy and happy faces. (I'll let Baha'i Views describe that, and I'll feature just a few photo's from Pike Place Market.)

One of the best features of Pike Place Market is the fresh fish - absolutely wonderful seafood.
This band was playing down the street in front of Starbucks - Slimpickin's, a band that plays ragtime, cajun and blues. We listened awhile, then hurried into some of the little shops to get warm - a bakery and a store that sells kitchenware. I bought a couple of wooden spoons with slanted sides, perfect for stirring batter, and that was the extent of my shopping.

I took this last shot as I waited for our espresso. You know, big cities offer so much, but I look at this photo and I just want to go home, or get out in the country where I can breathe. (The tentative leaves, disengaged but not fallen to the ground...the clutter, noise, and mess of big cities.) We passed an apartment complex where a 20 foot by 8 inch ditch held dirt and a line of little boxwood shrubs. I felt so sorry for them. I wondered how in the world will they ever attain any real growth, packed so tightly in such a limited space. I wished people - everything - had more time and room to grow.

A Tesselation - Tiled Poinsetta Relief

I was researching the author Antonio Pagnotta, and noticed that he wrote an article on Origami, an innovative and intriguing art form. With a little Flickr search, I found this artist.

Just amazing, the patience required, and the precision !

I felt much like a little bumble bee trying to probe deeply into this beautiful glass globe in Tim and Debbie's home on the weekend. If you look closely, the filament and bulb are buried, much like a real stamen and pistil. I couldn't help but wonder who the artist was who turned this glass, making such wonderful patterns along the edges.
I also enjoyed this fanciful pattern, over another lightbulb in the livingroom. It is not a question of just light, but featuring it in the most beautiful way, sending soft patterns up onto the ceiling and out into the room. The occasion was Tim and Debbie's monthly Devotional Meeting, which George and I enjoy attending.
Prayers, readings and music are offered, and I read this little card, which Debbie has prepared with a fanciful border. It's words offer good cheer and a positive spirit.

Cornelia and her little son sat next to me, and it was most enjoyable watching him play with a few toys while Tim told a story from the life of Baha'u'llah. He only scooted these animals around, never grabbing both for a growling match, teeth barred. He put a few of them into my hands, then took them out, never making a peep, never engaging them in a confrontation. Later, when I sat with him, he gave a big roar for the tiger, but tended to herd these animals in a little corral where they all huddled together. (I do not think this child has watched too many cartoons. Or, Animal Planet.)
Part of the Devotional Meeting is brunch, which includes waffles. Tim prepared the batter, and just about everyone crowds into the kitchen to watch him, or to turn the sausage, or to get a cup of coffee.
I huddled into a corner to stay out of the way, and greeted Emmy and Sam.
The table is set, and Tim brought out the waffles.

This is Sonja...she is my age, in her 60's. A few weeks ago I visited with her, and I told her to never to cut her hair, no matter how old she gets. It is just too beautiful, so soft and feathery, and I enjoy watching her twirl it in patterns around her head when she wants to keep it out of her face. There is something just so beautiful about swirling strands of hair, the texture, the movement.

I took about 150 photos on the weekend - Debbie urges me to continue to do this for the sake of Baha'i archives, but much to my disgust, the light was poor, and not much can be saved for archival value. George can mull through them and find something for his Baha'i Views, or to post on our Flickr account.

We attended Chris and Shadie's Fireside in Gig Harbor, bringing along our friend Walter. It was a small, intimate gathering as Shadie's father has recently passed away. She has gone down to New Zealand to be with her extended family.
Russ played music, Karen backed him up with some vocals - in fact, we all started to sing along.
I liked this image of Russ tuning his guitar. It reminds me of how 'the instrument must be tuned, stretched tightly, in order to play the music', and it was a good impression to think of when listening to the concepts presented at the Fireside.

Dr. Enayat Sobhani told us some stories of his life in Iran many years ago when the Baha'is were severely persecuted. As he told us one story after another, I couldn't help but notice that he laughed so hard at every story. As each predicament for the Baha'is in Iran intensified, he laughed harder and curled up into a ball, from which he'd uncurl long enough to catch his breath, uncurl for the next dramatic story, then proceed on with more frightening details. Various family members were imprisoned for their Faith, some killed, and yet here he was in America, retelling every detail of those days long ago. His eyes would squint and brim. He'd hold his arms around himself and rock and sway, as if these were bedtime stories he'd heard from his own parents as a child. Perhaps they were. I just know that they were placed on strong pillars in his memory, unshakable, never to be forgotten.

I enjoyed Dr. Sobhani's humor, his laughter. He seemed immune to the cultivation of animosity, of trashing others, with even so much as a whisper. He'd just say, with his face sobering into a careful stillness, that yes, these things happened, to his family long ago.

(Child of Africa has a post relating to current treatment of the Baha'is in Iran, particularly in regard to accessing higher education, of which Baha'i youth are denied access. She writes: " The Baha'is have established the Baha'i Institute of Higher Education so that Baha'i youth can have access to education offered by faculty members around the world." The BIHE is a creative and peaceful response to this type of persecution in Iran.)