Category Archives: culinaire

Feb17

A Reading, Writing, And Tea Affair

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A Reading, Writing, And Tea Affair

Reading, writing, and tea. This love triangle only intensifies with the snowstorms. This latest winter storm included thundersnow, so the St. Louis area had 3 – 6 inches of the frozen precipitation depending on how much thunder a person heard. St. Charles had about 5 inches. Very cold air came with this snow, so indoor activities only for me this weekend. Housecleaning is not on the agenda. Reading, writing, tea, and then daydreaming about the upcoming gardening season is. The seeds catalogs and DIY articles are perused. My mind imagines and creates.

“Life is unpredictable, it changes with the seasons, even your coldest winter happens for the best of reasons, and though it feels eternal, like all you’ll ever do is freeze, I promise spring is coming, and with it, brand new leaves.” ~ Erin Hanson

Deanna Greens and Garden Art’s story is still unfolding. Our lives are busy with jobs and our growing family with nine grandkids. Dean and I no longer grow under the 1200-square foot greenhouse and screenhouse. Although, we very much enjoy growing herbs, perennials, and blooms. We have our perennials at our cottage home in town. Our cinder-block basement houses the green life during the winter. We have an oil heater and a grow light that keeps the plants content for the five- or six-months cold season. Outdoors, our jonquils sprouted through the mulch and brown leaves this past week. Their yellow heads are wanting to burst open. As the yellow blooms unfold, we know Spring is around the corner. With Spring comes the yard projects. A backyard shed is one of those projects this year. This gardener’s daydreams are a tiny stained-glass greenhouse as well as a potting table. See where those dreams go.

“It’s nice to dream even when you’ve had pains and disappointments.” ~ Antonia Bread 

Jan13

Winter Retreat

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Winter Retreat

Yesterday an arctic blast came through Missouri leaving a blanket of snow, ice, and high winds with ungodly temperatures. It appears most of the Midwest and eastern states are experiencing the winter storm. More wintry stuff to come. My severe allergy to the cold is a challenge, but I make the most of the time indoors on these kinds of days. What is the best thing about hibernating? Staying in the warmth of home, snuggling with my sweetie, sipping on hot tea, and eating comfort foods. Warm creamy oatmeal with apples and craisins for breakfast. Then Missouri made apple-cheddar cheese, crackers, red grapes, and small glass of an Italian Moscato for lunch. Homemade Italian Stone Soup and garlic bread is on the dinner menu. 

Outside our icy windows the finches and sparrows are having their feeding frenzies at the feeders. Suets blocks were put out ahead of the storm anticipating our feathered friends would need the extra energy to stay warm. The heater in the bird bath is working as there is some flowing water even in the single-digit wind chills today. Plenty of perches and bushes for the birds. No movie or concert beats the entertainment of the outdoor aviary dining room. 

But of course, reading and writing is a delight during these winter retreats. English poet, Edith Sitwell captured winter in these words, “Winter is a time for comfort, good food and warmth … it is the time for home.” I am having a winter reprieve from the busyness of everyday life at Deanna’s Cottage, home to Dean and me. I may get some household chores like laundry and cleaning finished this weekend. A big maybe. What are you occupied with this wintry day? I hope you are snug warm or least will get there after a good sled ride down the neighborhood snowy hill.

Dec26

Grace To Begin Again

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Grace To Begin Again

“Somehow there’s always grace to begin again.” ~ Ann Voskamp. 

This year 2023 has been a rough one. We left 2022 praying for miracles and depending on God’s gift of grace unending.  If you may remember, my oldest daughter, Rachel and her family lost their home in a fire Christmas night of 2022.  Many compassionate people rallied to provide and support them in their plight. The insurance company has been very slow, and partial settlement funds have come.  They have made home with a trailer situated on my son-in-law’s parent’s St. Francois County ranch, living a minimalist lifestyle.  The lot the burned house was on still needs to be sold. The family battles flashbacks and sleep deprivation since the fire.  Please continue in prayers for Rachel, Mick, Hannah, Ella, and Eli. “The mind is a wonderful servant but a terrible master,” author Robin Sharma tells us. Other family news … Granddaughter, Hannah moved into her first apartment. My son, Ben moved to Springfield, MO this spring, and seems to enjoy being there.  My Elisabeth and husband, Mark have taken quite a liking for insects, and have a few terrariums housing their new pets.  Libby and Brendan are occupied with work and school. Dean’s youngest son, Rainer and wife, Erica had another son, Jeremiah on March 3 who joins 3-year-old Jefferson.  It is a joy having them just 25 minutes away.  Dean’s oldest son, AJ and family, Nancy, Elise, and CJ keep busy with work and school.  Little CJ started preschool this year.  Dean’s daughter, Liz and husband, Vince keep up with work and are wonderful helpmates for their families. Most work projects at our St. Charles cottage had been curtailed with our families’ immediate needs in 2023.  I managed to keep alive some potted herbs, and successfully grew Mexican sage and eucalyptus this year. Back at it in 2024 for our cottage, our rental house, and Dean’s parents’ house.

Dean’s mother passed away in October.  She had been battling ill health and leukemia for at least a year.  We typically visit the Kansas City family every 4 – 6 weeks.  But between September and November, we went back and forth to the KC side of the state nine out of ten weekends with her end-of-life details, funeral, and caring for Dean’s father. Dean’s father agreed to a premier assisted living apartment in STL, which has made it much easier for his sons to visit regularly.  Besides coffee & tea stops in obscure towns and villages while going back and forth to Farmington and Lee’s Summit this year, weekend getaways by ourselves or with family or friends included Rolla, Charleston, and Branson, MO; Eureka Springs, Arkansas; Tennessee for the Clarksville Writer’s Conference in June; a day in Glasgow, MO; another day in Lincoln Land, IL; a week away to the beautiful North Carolina Appalachians and Nashville, TN; a flight and an overnight in Texas for Dean’s aunt’s funeral in October; and a holiday weekend in the Wisconsin Dells.

Dean still loves serving the researchers who come into the National Archives military record center.  He has been with this government agency for over 15 years. Dean talks about “retirement” in 4-1/2 years, but I cannot see him stopping the beloved “hunt” with the research he loves doing.  Good chance a small research gig will be in Dean’s future after retirement.  Author Gretchen Rubin writes, “That’s my ideal life.  Doing work worth doing.”  I found regular weekday part-time employment worth doing.  Since May I have been working as a culinary professional for a non-profit organization that serves the senior and disabled communities with meals-on-wheels and services. The earlier full-time job was too much for me between the lack of adequate training at the credit union and running on fumes from weekend trips back and forth to Farmington to assist my daughter after the fire.  Early autumn, the community college built a new space for culinary classes.  I was asked to consult on necessary equipment and space design for the “Studio Kitchen”, and this new space is where I facilitated two cookie baking classes this holiday season.

“Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work,” Thomas Edison is quoted. I continue to take opportunities to submit my poetry, short stories, and recipes to various online publications. Some of my writings are selected and published, plenty others denied.  I participated in my first poetry reading in Eureka Springs, Arkansas early in 2023, and attended two other readings.  In 2024 I will present a WCDH fundraiser workshop “The Essence of Lemon, Herbs, and Writing” on a date TBD.  I facilitated this same workshop at a local lavender farm this past summer and loved the interaction of the participants. I joined a writers’ circle with some folks I met at the Clarksville conference.  Every chance I have to be a part of the writing community, I take it. Huge strides have been made in a culinary themed book I am writing.  “There is something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they’ll take you,” author Beatrix Potter said. More recipes, poems, and short stories keep being added.  A labor of love. I didn’t know this introvert had that much to share with the world.  Somedays I prefer solitude rather than talk to people.  If I am quiet long enough, I can hear.  “Sound is ephemeral…Sound is generative…Listening opens us to the wonders of communication and creativity,” shared keynote speaker David George Haskell at the Clarksville writers’ conference. I work things out with words in the quiet, writing them down and reading others’ words.  Other days I need to have that meaningful conversation with a friend, family member, co-worker, or senior client. “Writers and artists work in the loneliest of all professions, inside our heads”, eMerge co-editor Charles Templeton wrote in a newsletter.

Fluffy pillows and comforters layered on a settee, piled reading books on the floor besides, and a cup of hot cocoa lathered with whipping cream atop … this is what I look forward to this winter which is predicted to be long and cold, the snow shovel kind according to the persimmon seeds.  I will watch the snow and songbirds through the frosty windows while snug warm under blankets, listening to the quiet hush, occasional chirps, and let the words flow on paper.  “Live from the abundant place that you are loved, and you won’t find yourself begging others for scraps of love,” Christian author, Lysa TerKeurst encourages us. Ann Voskamp reminds us, “Whatever rock and tender place the bruised soul finds itself between, it’s witness there right into the face of the rock we’re facing.  There is no such thing as salvation by romance, or by achievement, or by dream life, or by any good behavior, or by itself or anyone else … No choice you or anyone else makes has the power to make you unchosen … What you want most deeply is to be deeply wanted as a person, valued and needed, seen and safe and known.”  Simply, God the Father chose you, salvation is through the gift of Jesus alone, and nothing can separate you from the love of God.  The Holy Spirit lives in you and me.  I pray you know these truths, live them, and share them.

“Nothing can ever separate us from God’s love.” ~ Romans 8:38


Oct22

The Countryside and Sycamores

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The Countryside and Sycamores

On Saturday I left home mid-morning to travel about an hour north to Pike County. I had the inkling to enjoy autumn’s superb weather when I heard the weekend forecast. I could have perused the boutiques on historic Main Street or shopped until I dropped. But I wanted to be outdoors. Dean’s mother passed away on October 6 with her burial in St. Joseph, MO last weekend. At last week’s funeral, I reminded myself that it was time for a visit to my parents’ gravesite just outside of Bowling Green, MO. Both my parents and grandfather died during the month of October as well; 11 years, 9 years, and 3 years ago.

The countryside was beautiful, yet I felt a sadness for this occasion. The colors of the leaves and harvesting fields distracted me from my somber mood, but my purpose for this autumn drive was not missed. I took the scenic route following along the Mississippi River. I forgot about all those little towns with speed limits at 30mph. It was enough for me to slow down and refocus for the next leg until the next village. The river that author, Mark Twain wrote about is so wide in many places in Lincoln and Pike Counties. Between the trees I could see it sparkle like diamonds in the sunlight. Although, the many stand-alone sycamore trees caught my attention the most. Even the hillside cemetery had a sycamore.

I said a prayer, asked for forgiveness for some unkind words I recalled I said to my parents many years ago. Some memories were from childhood and others as an adult. Likewise, as memories flood my mind of unkind words my father and mother said to me, I forgive each of them. Those memories help explain my own behaviors as a person. No reason to repeat history with negative words. Simply, be kind to others.

On way back home, I stopped in Clarksville, MO to use the restroom and stretch my legs. I had hoped to grab a sandwich. Not many eateries to choose from, but a clean restroom was a must. A riverside bar & grill had patrons there. A dozen Harleys were parked outside along the curb. I am not a biker, but hoped they welcomed all. The restroom was clean, and the patrons enjoying their food and drink. I love a good grilled sandwich, so I stayed. While eating a delicious chicken club sandwich at the Clarksville, MO bar & grill, words flooded my thoughts, so I wrote them down. Here is the poem:

Sycamores

Scattered hills breathe sadness.

Sadness as they overlook the valleys.

Valleys of withering grasses and emptiness.

Emptiness except for the stand-alone, century old sycamores.

Sycamores with peeling, white-painted bark.

Bark that seems to come apart at the seams.

Seams covered with crimson red sumac vine.

Vines that kept those years together.

Together during the bitter and sweet seasons.

Seasons are many that fill our lives.

Lives interwoven with faith, hope, love, disappointment, grief.

Grief over ill health, blank dreams, and abandoned promises.

Promises made with good intentions.

Intentions distracted with stressors and others’ disregard.

Disregards are many by hurting or hurtful people.

People everywhere breathe sadness.

Sadness dissipates as they look up to the Heavens.

Heaven’s Divine nature made a canopy of colorful leaves.

Leaves are many of those stand-alone, century old sycamores.

Sycamores that still stand alone near the scattered hills.

Sep23

An Almanac Autumn’s Arrival

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An Almanac Autumn’s Arrival

Autumn comes in with a cool morning and the promise of warmth by noon with the full sun. A London Fog tea latte is calling my name. The leaves are turning golden with oranges and amber peeking through already. I am reminded of the abundance of autumn with berries plump, zucchini and yellow squash almost the size of a toddler’s leg, and the many varieties of tomatoes overflow the gardens and baskets. I read this poem many years ago and always enjoy reading it again every September …

Blackberry Eating by Galway Kinnell
I love to go out in late September
among the fat, overripe, icy, black blackberries
to eat blackberries for breakfast,
the stalks very prickly, a penalty
they earn for knowing the black art
of blackberry-making; and as I stand among them
lifting the stalks to my mouth, the ripest berries
fall almost unbidden to my tongue,
as words sometimes do, certain peculiar words
like strengths or squinched,
many-lettered, one-syllabled lumps,
which I squeeze, squinch open, and splurge well
in the silent, startled, icy, black language
of blackberry — eating in late September.

The other fruit to take notice of this autumn is the persimmon. The Old Farmer’s Almanac isn’t predicting a terribly cold autumn for the Midwest, but what about winter? The persimmon seeds are supposed to tell us what kind of winter we are to have. Look for the persimmons to be ripe soon in your area, if not already. Missouri is to have a spoon winter. According to this article with the Old Farmer’s Almanac here is how to predict weather with a persimmon seed:

1. Find a locally-grown persimmon. (A locally-grown persimmon is necessary because it will reflect local conditions!) Wait to pick the fruit or cut into the fruit until after it gets a bit soft—almost mushy.

2. Open the fruit and cut open a persimmon seed. 

3. Look at the shape of the kernel inside:

  • If the kernel is spoon-shaped, expect plenty of snow to shovel.
  • If it is fork-shaped, plan on a mild winter with powdery, light snow.
  • If the kernel is knife-shaped, expect frigid winds that will “cut” like a blade.

I hope you enjoy your autumn and all it entails in your part of the world. It will prepare us for the next season, the winter whatever that may bring. There is a season for everything …

“There is a season (a time appointed) for everything and a time for every delight and event or purpose under heaven—” ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1

Aug20

Nostalgia

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Nostalgia

“Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind. Memories, sweetened through the ages just like wine…” Elvis Presley

The week started with watching the recorded Grand Ole Opry’s show with Vince Gill’s rendition of Ray Price’s “Danny Boy”. Now I love Vince Gill. And his version of this timeless classic was so sweet. But thoughts about the one-and-only singer, Ray Price continued throughout the week. On Friday while celebrating August birthdays at the senior center, the guest singer shared Ray Price’s song “For The Good Times”. Funny how a song can bring you back 50 or 60 years ago. I was brought back to the mid-1960’s watching my parents’ tender moment while they listened to Ray Price’s album playing on the turntable. I believe it was their favorite song.

As this memory lane week went Dean and I had planned to remove the dead refrigerator from our rental house’s garage. While loading the old frig Dean found in its insulation my Girl Scout membership card from 1968. This refrigerator was bought in the 1960’s by my parents. It was their primary refrigeration for a few years in my first childhood home and became the secondary cooler for soda and beer when we moved to the cedar ranch house built by my father on the tree farm. After my parents retired, the refrigerator followed them to their Pike County house, again stocking beverages in the basement. After Dad passed away, my mother moved into a villa in St. Peters. The 50+ year-old refrigerator needed a new home. It lived its last years in the garage of my St. Peters home once again as a beverage cooler. That Girl Scout card was another reminder of my childhood. Seems so long ago. It is long ago, but the memories so clear like it was yesterday.

The nostalgic week ends in the St. Peters house going through boxes of old papers. Some set aside for burning, others thrown away in the trash bin, and others boxed again. I stumbled upon several poems I wrote in the 1990’s. One poem melted my heart. It was about the teddy bear gifted to my oldest daughter, Rachel. As an expectant mother I had unwrapped it at the shower. The brown little fella sat in the baby nursery, came to the childbirth classes, and witnessed Rachel’s birth. The poem continued to talk about my other two babies. Those young motherly feelings were felt so vividly once again. What a beautiful week of nostalgia, sweet memories relived in my heart.

Jul23

July’s Gifts

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July’s Gifts

Steaming hot July weather has kept me inside most days and evenings. The AC units are getting a workout this summer. This month’s humid days have also brought some much-needed rain. My potted perennials, flowers, and herbs are drinking up the natural water and growing like gangbusters. The gigantic lemon basil plant provided adequately for my lemon-herb tea bread presented at The Essence of Lemon, Herbs, & Writing workshop held this weekend at Long Row Lavender Farm. For these I am thankful for, the summer warmth and rain.

The workshop had two components. First, I taught the guests how to maximize flavor for a lemon-herb tea bread using three ingredients: the zest of a lemon, the juice, and lemony-type herb such as lemon basil, lemon thyme, or lemon balm. Second, I taught how to write a black-out or block-out poem using a recipe, magazine article, or page from a book. The example I shared was the prize-winning Valentine poem I wrote to my Dean using words from the lemon-herb tea bread recipe. Poems’ words are concise, and the guests learned the process of picking out descriptive words from their selected article or recipe. One guest shared her poem eloquently written in honor of a young man who was recently killed an motorcycle accident. The words chosen came from a magazine article on different types of lavender. The words seemed appointed for her to write. It was a beautiful experience for her, the rest of the workshop guests, and me.

I am also thankful for the time given on a few afternoons this month to craft button journals made for the workshop guests, with one afternoon spent watching our 7-year-old granddaughter design her personal button journal. While she visited for a week, we made a special trip to Lincoln Land in Springfield, IL so Elise could learn more about her favorite president. She found a top hat like Lincoln’s, some special stickers to accessorize her journal as well as helped me find a jar of vintage buttons at the antique store. We made some fun visits with other family members while Elise was in town, but also spent time at our homey cottage watching and listening to the hummingbirds and songbirds, gathering withered leaves along our walks (and there were a lot due to the drought in June), and Papa Dean learned how to play Memory Match. Times with loved ones are treasured in our hearts. So thankful!

Jul4

Nature’s Own Spectacular Display

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Nature’s Own Spectacular Display

We have experienced nature’s own spectacular fireworks display with moving storms and heat lightening after sundown. Spotty storms and rain showers finally broke the early summer drought. Just as July arrived, the rains have created a steamy heat. Our greens are greener and the blooms are brighter. I wanted a red, white, and blue display in the front pebble patio for the 4th. How else, but with plants! I decided on red and white geraniums to fill our retired blue ceramic pot. Thankfully, one local greenhouse still had some geraniums to choose from.

Creative garden art ideas come to me every few days during the summer. I have two repurposed teapots set inside a wrought-iron heart-shaped basket with airplane plant shoots rooting in jars of water set inside the teapots. The one photo shows another way to repurpose old teapots planters, along an old outdoor stairway. Very old-world charm that I adore. Old-world charm yet love our new world freedoms.

“For you have been called to live in freedom . . . use your freedom to serve one another in love.” ~ Galatians 5:13

As we celebrate Independence Day, think about what freedoms we do have. We can freely worship where we desire. We can pursue the occupation(s) of our dreams whether a paid job or volunteering. Use our talents to serve others. That’s what they are intended for, right? We have freedom to education in the arts and sciences through books, study, and experiences. We have freedom of speech and written words. There is literature and online publications for about any and every subject a person has passion for. Our freedoms are paid for by our service men and women of today and yesterday. I am thankful to God for these people who have served and continue to serve us.

“Freedom has its life in the hearts, the actions, the spirit of men (and women), and so it must be daily earned and refreshed – else like a flower cut from its life-giving roots, it will wither and die.” ~ Dwight D Eisenhower

Jun22

Midsummer’s Blooms

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The summer drives have revealed old-fashion multi-flora roses, Queen Anne’s lace, Indian paintbrush, coneflowers, clover, black-eye Susan’s, buttercups, straw flowers, lilies, and cattails along the country roadsides. The town blocks are lined with blooming hydrangeas, crepe myrtle, roses, Shasta daisies, lavender, and tiger lilies with pots of geraniums, petunias, lantana, bridal veil, impatiens, and culinary herbs besides. This week oregano and Italian basil dazzled my white pasta sauce and thyme, mint, marjoram, and lemon basil spiced up the brown rice dish. Meanwhile, lawn sprinklers water as the rains have been scarce in June. My aubade to this Midsummer …

My Aubade This Midsummer

The summer solstice is June twenty-one,

direct opposite of the Midnight sun.

At nine fifty-seven am central time this year,

an ephemeral moment in this celestial sphere.

A spectacular morning this Midsummer,

as swollen rain clouds promise like a redeemer.

The feathered friends’ frenzy at the birdfeeders,

nature’s behavior encourages this pleader.

Blooms and greens need raindrops ten thousand,

allowing all five senses to be arousing.

Especially in gardening, patience is a virtue.

The garden hose is out to water those plants, quite a few.

The flowers’ colors and fragrances are a seduction,

and those clouds escaped again without a production.

Too dry before July and August’s usual drought,

more prayers will surely open the heavens, rain showers to come about.

Anna Marie Gall ~ June 21, 2023

May26

Ready For A New Season

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Ready For A New Season

Celestially speaking, the Summer Solstice happens on June 21. But for many families, Memorial Day weekend marks the beginning of the summer season. All I know is the days are getting longer, enough to enjoy sunlight early morning and after dinnertime. Most of this May’s days have been mild enough to get a walk in the middle of the day. Those hotter days, it is better to get those steps in or piddle around in the yard early morning or in the evening. The sun on my skin is warm and the blowing late spring air cools. I think they refer these days as “resort days.” I am sleeping wonderfully sound every night when a good walk or gardening chores have been a part of my day. Stocked my beverage tray with some new herbal teas. A couple of weekend getaways early summer and a late summer trip to the Appalachians is planned with family. I want to keep my writing skills sharpened, so a 2-day writing conference in Tennessee takes place in June.

A welcomed new season is coming for a few folks. They have rounded a corner and are rising above. My oldest daughter and her family lost their house in a fire on Christmas Day. There have been so many prayers, tears, trials, and days of confrontations with their insurance company to get to this place today. They purchased a semi-permanent housing solution, a very large fifth-wheel RV and have it placed on my son’s-in-law family’s farm a few miles from their original home site. The hopes are more insurance settlement funds will allow them to build. No more motel living for them. They became instant minimalists and are essentially rebuilding their lives from the ground up. Most of their personal belongings were destroyed. Collectables such books and special houseplants are no longer, but an attempt will be made to replace them. Some selected few items were spared. The baby books were melded into a single mass, but my daughter was able to retrieve some relics on the inside of this mass. A heirloom rock collection from my parents were intact. Somehow the fire skipped over a box of photos. What was left of their house has been bulldozed down and hauled away. The lot is empty and will be sold. My daughter and son-in-law did not want to rebuild there, but desire to start anew near the same community due to relationships they have made over the past 12 years.

Next week I too am starting a new season in my life. I have been semi-retired for 2 years now. I have been employed with per diem part-time jobs but struggled with obtaining dependable hours. I even attempted to go back to full-time employment just so I could get some stability in hours, but it became too much on me. This new opportunity recently came across my online networks. I have been offered and accepted a part-time position for a non-profit group that provides meals and other services to seniors in the quad-county region. I love to cook from scratch and have the opportunity to use my culinary skills to serve the senior community. I will work weekday mornings only, and very close to home. The pay works for me, and it will help supplement for my disabled daughter’s medical care. I will continue teaching per diem culinary classes at the local community college at least one evening each month during the fall and spring semesters.

What does your Summer include? I hope some R & R, time with family and friends, a meandering road trip or two, nurturing a beautiful blooming plant or two or ten, a healthy dose of sunrays, a book to read, and an ice-cold beverage of choice each day.