Boston Strong, Boston Just

This is not my photo, taken from the web. Thank you unknown photographer.

Here's a quote from a comment on a New York Times article today that described the hospital-room hearing for the suspected bomber of the Boston Marathon.

"When I read the words of those who are upset that this man is getting his rights, after what he did, I remember President John Adams, of Massachusetts, who as a young lawyer came forward to represent the British soldiers accused in the Boston Massacre. He was reviled for doing that, but he believed in the principle of a fair trial for anyone, ANYONE, accused of a crime, ANY CRIME. He believed that kind of society was possible but it had to be made to happen. No one's rights are safe if anyone's rights are taken away. Yes, I am a liberal, and I grew up in the South, where I saw lots of people having their rights taken away by people who were sure they deserved being treated differently. I'm old now, I've seen a lot of hate and damage done by people doing really bad things, and still I feel proud of those who have stood for justice for ALL."

I am so sorry for the lost life, for the lost limbs, for the fear and unsettling of our city and state and country. But I'm also so proud of those in our state and elsewhere who hold the values of justice, human rights, and compassion above revenge, hate and xenophobia.

Also, I am pleased that there are others who point out what feels so obvious to me:

from another NYT commenter:

"Why is a bomb a weapon of mass destruction, but not an AR-15? Three people died from two bombs, but one gun killed 16 in Aurora or 26 in Newtown. Why is one terrorism and one "only" mass murder?"

I see facebook posts (jokes?) that Sarah Palin has called for an invasion of Chechnya. I know that Senators--those charged with upholding the Constitution--are calling for this young deluded man (a citizen) to be tried by a military court. I can't even imagine the stereotyping and hate being spewed on right-wing talk radio.

I'm not sure where the compromise will come from to heal our fractured nation. People have been fighting for justice for so long, yet a land of love and justice seems so far away. Sometimes it helps to listen to a voice of power and peace, Richie Havens. So sorry for this loss.

A Healing Garden

I've turned off yet another press conference about the Boston Marathon bombing to write this post. The authorities are reporting on the condition of the captured suspect, the items found in the related searches of the suspects' home, and the opening of the damaged area to businesses and residents.

Things are returning to a new normal. And while we were distracted by horror and pain, while we were awed by the heroics of law enforcement and doctors and average citizens, spring arrived.

As if by magic a week after the tragedy, flowers are blooming, herbs are sprouting, and I have escaped to the garden to sow hope for the future.

When we moved here almost 4 years ago, the gardens were lovely, but mostly ornamental. I'm adding more edible plants to the mix as time goes on.

Emerging rhubarb and green onions have gotten a nice layer of salt hay mulch.

Three new blueberry plants and some strawberry plants occupy a bed that previously held flowers.

J and I dug a 40 foot trench this past week for this new asparagus bed.

R waters the new plants in a raised strawberry bed.

Vinca has overwhelmed the raspberry patch. We've been pulling and digging it out, then replanting errant raspberries in more organized rows.

The events of the past week  give us a renewed appreciation of the beauty of life sprouting from the Earth and on our children's faces. Perhaps nothing is more lovely than the mixing of sweet and bittersweet.

Easter Ode to Fried Egg

I will change the icy blog banner soon, but we still have snow piles on the north side of the house on the last day of March.


I originally wrote this in my journal in January. Last week I read it in my writing class. They really liked it and encouraged me to share it more widely. So here it is. (Dedicated to KVS who gave me the egg).



I didn't even notice the yellow handle of the knife I was using until I broke the yolk of the fried egg so it spread evenly over the crusty sourdough bread slice. Sorry I have to take a bite now before it cools.

Before I put the piece of toast and egg into my mouth I move it through the liquid on the right side of the plate and notice the beautiful orangy yellow glare as the sun beams from my south facing dining room window intensifying the color. Another bite...

It's 10am and yesterday's snow is melting. Outside the window everything is glistening. There are water drops on every branch. Snow still coats some of them. Some of the drops catch the light throwing off a tiny prism of color, a beacon flashing red then yellow and for a while a steady blue.

Another bite... the egg is cooling a bit now, and I have 4 cut pieces remaining. I'm prioritising in which order to eat them weighing their relative amounts of yellow creaminess, white fluffiness and crunchy browned bread crust. Yum - the richness of the yolk in that bite coated my tongue with pleasure.

The weight of crysaline snow turning to heavier, melted slush is bringing down the precipitation in large chunks. The sun is moving west, and the glittering dew is dropping. This moment at my sunny table will soon be over. The second to last bite of egg is cold but still gloriously smooth and a bit chewy all at obce.

I'm scraping up every last bit of yolk from the plate on the side of the last piece of breakfast. Once I put it into my mouth then chew and swallow, it will be gone. The magical yellow of yolk, and sun, and warmth melting with the snow.

Anniversary Blizzard

Doug and I were married 20 years ago tomorrow. To celebrate, we spent last weekend at the Clarendon Square Inn in the South End of Boston. We made the reservations months ago. Who knew that we'd be overcome by snow in a winter wonderland? It was quiet, romantic and a bit unreal like that magical snowy sleigh ride with Baryshnikov in season 6 of Sex and the City. Here's a little photo tour of our weekend.

Even in the cold, you can observe the warmth of the typical South End brownstone.

We found the Siena Farm store, the city outpost of our CSA farm.

Even with only a little snow, skiers were out on the city streets.

After dinner Friday, the plows were still keeping up on the main roads.

Lights glowed behind the wind-whipped snow.

Two feet of snow fell from Friday afternoon through mid-day Saturday. I spent much of that time in the luxurious tub.

By Saturday afternoon, we ventured out on foot. The T was not running.

We were happy not to have to clear snow. Our son did our home driveway.

These guys were seriously tired of shovelling.

The busiest of city intersections by Copley Square facing the Prudential building were devoid of cars.

The library muse does not mind the cold.

People were skiing and sledding in the public garden.

The Back Bay was full of snow, revelers and buried cars on the narrow streets.

By early evening photographers joined shovelers in the middle of roads.

We returned to the wonderful, hip COPPA for dinner Saturday night. In addition to being delicious, it was one of the few open restaurants.

People have been comparing this storm to the blizzard of 1978, 35 years ago. We've been married only 20 years. So it is unlikely that we'll have another such memorable anniversary any time soon.

Collages 6 & 7

I really like my collages from this week. I painted the backgrounds before I did them. I then chose papers from my collection that I thought complemented the paint. I ripped randomly and placed layers more deliberately thinking about shape and color. What do you think?

 




I'm always struggling with myself to believe what I do is valuable or meaningful... whether it's my work, my writing, my cooking, my art. I feel competent but not professional or special. I like the way this artist, photographer JoAnn Verurg, talks about when her work becomes something more than it's materials. Check it out.

Oleana Inspired Dinner

My inspiration after our dinner at Oleana  persisted even after making my collage of Mediterranean colors shown in the last post. I took the chef, Ana Sortun's book Spice out of our local library and chose a few recipes to try yesterday.



I decided to make sweet potato bisteeya and a fatoush salad. I chose those recipes based on what my family likes (specifically my daughter who is quite picky but likes sweet potatoes and pie!) and on what I have in the fridge and storage. We still had some watermelon radish and savoy cabbage from our CSA (the farmer is the chef's husband). The recipe for the fatoush salad in the book was summer variety, but was easily adapted to ingredients I had on hand and found available locally.

Usually I make rather simple but tasty dishes, but these had lots of steps and ingredients.
The bisteeya required boiling of potatoes, sauteing onions and spices, and adding chopped herbs to make the filling.



The filling went into layers of filo dough stacked with a toasted pine nut mixture.



 Together they looked like this.

 

Prior to baking like this.



The fatoush involved lots of washing, peeling and chopping vegetables, then making a vinegrette and  a yogurt sauce.



Finally after what seemed like many, many hours of cooking, I plated up the dishes and called the family.



Alas, my son thought it was "OK." He's not really a sweet potato fan. He always likes salad, but didn't necessarily find this one unusual. My daughter wouldn't eat the pie. There were too many things she couldn't identify. My husband liked everything, but he likes my meals that take a lot less effort too. I enjoyed the complex flavors and light texture of the pie. The salad was bright and tasty. But, I certainly can understand why this is restaurant food. I would have enjoyed it more if I had a sous chef to help with the preparation and someone to wash the pots and utensils.

Happily, I invited a friend to join me for a lunch of the leftovers today. She was very appreciative, and I enjoyed the meal even more when I only had to do a little reheating a plating. YUM.

Color Themed Collages

Joining up with ihanna again and her collage challenge. She's been doing some color themed pieces, here are a couple of mine.

In this coldest of weeks, mornings in the low single digits barely hitting the 20s for the day's highs... I tried some winter whites.

 

Last weekend we headed out to Oleana, the Eastern Mediterranean restaurant owned by the chef wife of our CSA farmer. Between 6 of us, we had 5 appetizers, 4 entrees and 3 desserts. So many delicious flavors... the most amazing beans cooked al dente and so flavorful in a dish of scallops and roasted cauliflower with cinnamon and other spices, Fatoush, a salad with watercress, romaine, tangerine & pomegranate, Sultan’s Delight; Tamarind-Glazed Beef & Smokey Eggplant Purée with Pinenuts, Chick Pea Terrine with Apricot, Pistachio & Tahini Sauce. I'm getting hungry all over again.

It inspired this deep red and green Mediterranean (and Matisse) themed collage: