Bread and Butter Pickles - A Great Place to Start

       My good friend, Karmen, hand writes actual letters that I am so greatful to receive.

These special post office gifts from our Karmen include cartoons and tidbits of news and quotes that declare the season we are in. The letter today began with a special quote:

In the summer the song sings itself. – William Carlos Williams

        Daughter Jessie started a garden this year – tomatoes, peas, peppers, zucchini , and cucumbers. We got regular updates on the progress of this enriching experience. The cucumbers have burst forth with enthusiasm. It’s pickle time!

       For all the life we lived together as Jess grew up, the preserving details seemed to have been obscured by the bounty. She had questions for her garden goodies and she wanted answers . . . Now!

We made a shopping list for bread and butter pickles – big pans, canning tongs and funnel, canning jars with lids and rings, box of coarse salt, seasonings: mustard seeds, celery seeds, and the far east wonder, turmeric. Don’t forget white vinegar, sugar, and a large onion.   

        We went over the process in notes – cut the cukes in 1/4 inch widths, soak them in salt water brine for about 3 hours, sterilize jars in hot water pan. Bring the vinegar, sugar and spices to a boil. Fill the jars with the cukes and onion. Pour the hot vinegar over the cucumbers, put the lids on, Carefully place the jars in a big pot of boiling water for 15 minutes.  Remove the jars with the tongs and let cool in plain sight.

       We got the call about 8:30 that evening: Ping!  My favorite summer song.

Later Jessie said the jars are gorgeous and that she feels so good about her first canning experience, she said she feels liberated.

Thanks for stopping by again, we love to hear comments. Enjoy the summer magic!

Love,

Helene (author of A Homestead Decade, How Crunchy GranolaChanged My Life, Amazon e-book, $2.99)

Cooling of the Dunes 24x20 oil by Joel F Ellis
A great place to enjoy summer - ahhh.

Happiness Runs in A Circular Motion . . .

       I've been thinking a lot lately about what makes for happiness. The founding fellows thought so much of happiness that pursuit became a declaration. The word has almost become undefinable yet we all have a vague feeling of what happiness can mean to our lives. 

       We recently watched an interesting movie, Hector and the Search for Happiness, in which a psychiatrist subjects himself to a journey of researching just what people think is happiness. One of several views in the movie seems to define the feeling for me, "Is happiness not the sum total of lots of small joys and pleasures?”  ― François Lelord, Hector and the Search for Happiness  I'll bet you can think of ten moments right now in your memory that compile a swell of happiness in you.

        

Egrets returning to Michigan

       Okay, listen up, and I mean that – listen inside you, a tune you know very well, while I tell you a special story of happiness.

       We were walking across the beautiful Lake Lansing Park near our home on a chilly morning when a child, a girl maybe 8 or 9 years old ran past us. She was on a mission. She ran into the depths of the wooden play structure at the south end of the park, a temple, a great cathedral for play.

        In the center of the structure is a large simple xylophone. I imagined this child in the early

morning rushing through a bowl of colorful cereal thinking over and over on what she was about to do. I imagined her raising the hammer above those heavy metal strips, first cautiously – two notes to start, up one, and up again another – two strikes, then gentle steps back down as she continued to play the song, until emotion filled in us as it must have in the composer.
       This song of victory, of nations, of workers humming in labor, this song presented by a child, rang out across the lake forcing every molecule in the cloud-like morning fog to echo the centuries old cry of Beethoven’s powerful Ode to Joy!

       Now I am happy to think that you have read and perhaps sing again this treasured piece. As Donovan Leitch reminded us, "happiness runs in a circular motion, thought is but a tiny boat upon the sea, every body is a part of everything anyway, you can be happy if you let yourself be".

Thanks as always for stopping by. I recently took a big step for me and opened a Facebook account. Fascinating.

love, helene (please check out A Homestead Decade, How Crunchy Granola Changed My Life, Amazon e-book, cheap 2.99)

E.H. Rusk, artist, Preserved Living Gifts In Her Paintings

       We’ve almost eaten all the pickles. The sweet salsa tomatoes are all gone as are the stewed tomatoes that perked up vegetable soups and Italian sauces. One half-pint spiced blueberry jam sits yet on the shelf looking a bit bewildered. We have consumed the carefully preserved foods from 2014.

       We know new produce will soon “come on” fast. Peas first, then beans – little surprises under large green leaves – tomatoes will tease with tiny yellow blossoms, then tiny green globes. But these take so long we may become complacent until they ripen and for the love of life itself, you better be ready for the beautiful, brilliant, succulent, . . . you get the idea. If you are canning tomatoes this year start planning now.

       This week I had an epiphany about preserving all this beauty when we happened on an estate sale in our area. The sale consisted of mostly art, oil paintings, from the hand of an elderly English professor at the university, Elizabeth Hartley Rusk. She took to still life works. I imagined her enthusiasm as she discovered light direction and its shadowy impact on the fruits and container forms in her paintings. How she might have gathered her “models” for these pieces – pots and bottles and pitchers of all sorts. How she chose the varied colors of grapes and apples and peaches.

     We could not resist. We selected some of these beauties to bring home appreciating the artist’s fine efforts she gave to her art. Then, in a flash, I realized that these paintings, works that were carefully crafted compelling us to look at them and see, may be the ultimate experience of preserving foods.

Thank you for coming back. I had to complete a big project leaving this little blog for a while. Please come again soon and thank you for the increase in sales of A Homestead Decade, How Crunchy GranolaChanged My Life, we were delighted with the personal notes from some of you.

 In Peace,

Helene

Paintings by Elizabeth Hartley Rusk, English professor from Michigan State University
passed in 2010 at the age of 98

Ah, WINTER

Winter may try to

rule our sorry selves,

no match, my dear, for the

laughter of children

and happy dog.

Love, 

Helene