A makeover for him, a change of thought for me

Posted by random olio

Life is always full of surprises. At times there are moments that catch us off guard, and a shift happens in our thought. That happened to me after watching this video. A bit of background and some honest transparency. Portland has a high volume of homeless people. Over time it is very easy to be desensitized. After seeing individuals or families asking for money at many intersections you begin to stop seeing them, and honestly you begin to stop trusting that they really are homeless.

I remember living in a neighborhood in downtown Portland a few years ago. An elderly woman would always stand outside of Whole Foods and beg for money. She did not really look that homeless, more just old. She was persistent, and I began to wonder if she was really homeless. A long time later (after we moved to the burbs) I was talking with friends about that neighborhood, and this woman was discussed. A friend said they knew the older woman’s family, and she was not at all homeless. Does that explain the trust issue?

So when I saw this video transformation it brought tears to my eyes. It reminded me that regardless of trust, honesty, or our lot in life we are all still just people. We all still want to be loved, feel like we belong, and have a purpose. It has opened my thought to remember that regardless of what we have each been through, we all deserve to be treated with respect. We do not always know another’s story. While we do not always have to respond with money, we can respond with kindness, prayer, and maybe sometimes bring them food. I hope his transformation impacts you as much as it did me.

A Dime, Bazooka, and Lost Bounty

Posted by random olio

I remember two specific houses that I always wanted to avoid when trick-or-treating as a kid. One was a woman down the street who would take a dime, a cotton ball, a piece of orange tissue paper and make little mini jack-o-lanterns with the dime as the flat base, the cotton on top wrapped tightly with orange tissue and the face drawn on with black marker. Borrrrrring. Yet, she was so before her time. That would be something I would find today on Pinterest. As a kid though, I thought it was such a waste. A dime? Really. I got more from the tooth fairy, and that was not saying much.

The second house was about five streets back where the houses were larger and usually occupied by doctors and dentists. I knew most everyone in my neighborhood due to the afternoon newspaper I delivered to a large percentage of the neighborhood, and the many, many years of Girl Scout cookies I sold. This particular house was owned by a dentist and again, borrrring. They did not hand out apples, but rather Bazooka gum. Which out of all the gums it was more of the sugary kind, but I was not a gum girl. I guess gum, even with a little sugar, was better then getting a dime on Halloween.

I do remember one year when I was the last kid to the dentist’s house, or maybe they were just done for the night. They gave me the rest of their bag of Bazooka. That was like winning the lottery as a kid, especially as a kid who rarely had candy and treats at home. I took it home and of course hid it from my sister and brother. I learned early on that to share meant it would be gone in moments and I would have to wait until next year. In our house when treats were like water in the desert, you found ways to hide your bounty. Funny how “hiding” meant under your pillow. I am sure I had many lumpy nights of sleep. Until many months later when my sister and I found the bag of Bazooka under my bed, hard as a rock. It must have fallen under the bed while I slept and I had forgotten about that gum. There was no way that we could ever chew any of it, the entire bag like tiny bricks. An interesting thing that happens when you do not share. Sometimes your bounty just goes to waste.

#Halloweenlessons

Simple Pleasures

Posted by random olio

Recently I was making more homemade English Muffins, which takes a tablespoon of honey. I had poured the amount into the bowl and decided I wanted the taste of honey, so when I was done I licked the tablespoon. It started my mind wandering with a domino effect from one thought to the next. The first thing I thought was I have not had honey in a while, and it is such a simple pleasure. I started (mind you I did not have much sleep that weekend) to think about how honey is made, and the simplicity of the bees, flowers, and pollination, and that the reward is such a simple sweet pleasure.

The next thought that trickled into my brainwaves was how often we disregard simple pleasures, or maybe we just take them for granted. How often do we pile our plates with a plethora of flavors, overwhelm our senses, and forget that sometimes the simplest dish has the greatest impact. A fresh tomato, avocado, or strawberry just by itself, no extra sugar or sauce needed.

Oh, how honey has made me get nostalgic.

It seems that in the summer months when the days are longer and fresh fruit and vegetables are abundant that sampling local fresh goodies is easy. As the days get shorter and darker, it is often easier to stay inside, work more, and go the efficient route. We tend to stick to soups and stews, and heartier meals, yet that does not mean that we have to miss out on simple pleasures. Like pumpkin, squash, and other fall inspired pleasures that hit the spot.

What simple pleasures in fall do you crave?

The weeks just fly by…

Posted by random olio

I can hardly believe it is the beginning of October. Time just keeps flying by.

Each weekend goes by with a flurry of items that need to be checked off the list, happy hours, getting together with friends, yard work, the list is endless. By Sunday night I just want another day off. Life is good, it is full, and there is so much happening. There is also so much to be grateful for each day. I find that in random moments through the day I have visions of something I want to bake, a book I cannot wait to curl up with, or a television show I am behind in and want to know what happens next.

I am happy. I am enjoying life to the fullest. So if I am happy does it matter that I am filling up each day to the brim? Is that a good thing? Or, should I endeavor to carve out chunks of downtime where I do nothing at all? I find that one day spills over into the next, and before I know it my bedtime hour is upon me and I still have so many things left that I want to do. As I crawl into bed, and my head nestles itself into my pillow I quickly fall into la la land, only to find just a few hours later I start all over again. There is definitely never a dull moment.

Now that October is upon us, all things pumpkin come to mind. I want to make pumpkin bread, try our a new chocolate chess pie recipe, decide if I am going to run another 1/2 marathon this fall, work on the painting I started a month ago, and hopefully enjoy a few more sunny days if there are any left in this Portland Fall. Those are the non-task items. The task items like balancing your checkbook, paying bills, cleaning house are the not so fun ones. The list of life to-dos seems to be never-ending. Not all are enjoyable tasks, but they serve a purpose.

What do you want to do now that it is October and Fall is here? Are you living your days to the fullest?

Inherited recipe card nostalgia

Posted by random olio

I am a sucker for a feel good novel. You know the kind that makes you dream about living on a farm or opening up a bakery, regardless of all the work it actually takes to pull such ventures off. Over the weekend as I was finishing up such novel, one of the very last paragraphs on the last page of the book reminded me of my mom and grandma:

“My grandmother’s handwriting filled the yellowed index cards, her letters tall and elegant, directing the creation of breads and cakes, pies and pastries, cookies, and of course, muffins. Even in the faded peacock-blue ink, her words live on.” page 341

The book? The Irresistible Blueberry Bakeshop & Cafe by Mary Simses. A novel about a woman whose grandma had asked her to deliver a letter for her and then dies, and the journey the woman has to make to unravel a past she did not know about her grandma. A fluffy, fun book? Yes. Still, it was good. She talks about food throughout, and juxtaposes it with the woman (a Manhattan attorney) who is always careful about what she eats only to find comfort in the food she eats on her journey.

I still have a few of the index recipe cards in both my mom and grandma’s handwriting. You can tell how often a dish was made by the grease and spill marks, the worn look of the paper, and sometimes the bleed of a pen. I only have a few remnants of these recipes. At one point many years ago, when laptops became a hot item (although they still looked like bricks) my sister and I transferred the recipes we inherited to her new laptop so we could both have copies, and then not too long later the laptop died and was not able to be resurrected. In some ways it is fine as we have found, explored, and made our own favorite recipes, but there are still a few that linger out there that I have not been able to replicate.

Sometimes Chris asks me if the memory of the time, or the memory and nostalgia of that favorite recipe is strong but if I actually was able to replicate the dish would it still have the same effect on me? I love my mom’s coffee cake, and yet that was not lost (thanks to Betty Crocker). I have even changed it up and added my own twist. There are many that I probably never even know that I am missing. The one that I have tried over and over to recreate with horrible luck was her chocolate chess pie. I remember making it often as a kid and loving it, but each time I try now it is a runny mess. I think Chris has given up on it. So if any of you have a chocolate chess pie recipe that you want to share, I am all ears!