Sunday, August 26, 2012

A day at the beach


I stepped over the crest of the sand dune and scanned the horizon.  So big. So far.  We're here, at the ocean - we've been excited about this ever since the inkling manifested itself into a concrete plan.

It doesn't take long for the sand to slough off the stress on my skin, in my cells.  Little bits of finely crushed shells smash against my calves as the current pulls the ground from under my feet and I feel myself sinking.  I keep my feet planted as the water spills to shore and races back repeatedly, each time trying to best her last furthest reached point.  I actually heard the song line in my head, "to the oceans white with foam," as I watched the sea foam, abandoned on the shore by its wave, seep into the ground.  I scanned the saturated surface for shells.  Timing the retrieval of my selection was a fine balance between eyeing the spread available and snatching it up, clutched tight in my fist, before the attack of the next wave.  Over and over we played this game. 

For long stretches of time I would simply face the horizon thinking about the greatness of the sea.  I pictured the globes of my elementary school classroom.  I pictured the words Atlantic Ocean in an italicized font on the deep turquoise portion of the sphere.  It was just a hand's span from the green United States to the pink Africa.  I looked out at the line where the sky meets the ocean, and thought about people on the other side standing on the shore peering at the same line.  It is awesome that the beach has expertise in freeing the mind of stressful thoughts and reoccupying that space with ideas of a more global nature.  My to-do list back home doesn't seem as urgent anymore.

Playing House

About a year ago, it occurred to me that before Abby left for college I wanted our family to take a vacation to the ocean.  I wanted the whole deal: beach house on the ocean front, stay for a week, long days on the beach.  Bill started researching beach houses for rent and found one in Avon, NC.  In the Outer Banks area, it was an ocean front property with all the amenities imaginable: inground private pool, hot tub, spacious living, ocean view.  So we booked it.  And this is where I am typing this entry from.
 
 The first five hours of the trip were exciting because we were finally on our way and the energy in the car was uplifting.  We drove through Washington, D.C. and saw the White House and the Washington Monument.  It was very cool and the kids were rubbernecking and chattering enthusiastically about it.  Once we hit Virginia, the novelty of the drive wore off and we were spent.  Bill was driving, and I was supposed to be sleeping so I could take the next shift.  But I couldn't sleep in the car.  Every stop would awaken me and it was wicked uncomfortable sleeping as it was.  Around 4:30 AM I took a turn at the wheel.  It took all of the consciousness of my being to keep my eyes open.  I was tapping my foot, slapping my knee in rhythm with the music, singing out loud.  I only lasted an hour before I told Bill I had to pull over.  I recommended we just take an hour to take a nap.  After that much needed rest, Bill took the wheel again.  And then it started raining.
 
I have never seen rain drops that big and that full of force.  It actually started coming in the windows.  We had a cargo carrier on the roof and the straps were held in by the doors.  The kids woke up to drops on their heads and sleepily tried holding napkins up to the roof to stop the streams of water coming in.  The right lane of the two-lane highway was flooded so everyone was crawling in the left lane.  Many people pulled over to the emergency late to wait out.  We later found out that a tornado had touched down in Virginia at that time.
 
 
We arrived at the realty office around 11 AM Saturday, and despite our lack of sleep felt invigorated by the arrival to our destination.  The kids played tennis while we were waiting for our house to be ready for check in.  When we got the keys and pulled up to the house, we were chattering wildly.  This was our first experience renting a house.  We had been to the ocean in Maine seven years ago, but stayed in a hotel a couple miles from the ocean.  Getting ready to explore our house reminded me of Extreme Makeover home edition when Ty says, "Go check out your house!"  We opened the front door and all four of us darted around inspecting all the rooms. 


 
This place is absolutely gorgeous.  It has four levels and surely was intended for a huge party to stay as opposed to a little family of four and their pooch.  We are not used to having this much space.  Our home is a small three-bedroom ranch with about 1200 square feet.  This beach house is so big that it is an aerobic experience to walk from the bottom level all the way to the top level.  We are settled in nicely and are enjoying playing house here.  For just a week we can indulge, relax, and waste time together in this beautiful getaway. 
 
 
 
 
 

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Swap Success

Today I traded my food with strangers' food.  It was my first time.  I am already imagining and anticipating the next time.

I joined a Food Swap event put on by a local organization known as the From Scratch Club.  It was all very foreign to me when I saw my friend's facebook post sharing the link to register.  The phrase "from scratch" got my attention, because, well....I cook from scratch.  It is kind of a funny phrase, from scratch.  Someday I will research its origin.  After luring me in with the club name, I started delving into the concept of the food swap.  Each participant brings a homemade something to the swap, participants go around the room perusing and sampling the items, and then people start swapping as desired.  What if no one wants my grape jelly? I posted on my friend's facebook status after my initial inquiry of interest.  Oh, someone will, she assured me.
 
As a special treat, the author of the book Food in Jars, Marisa McClellan, would be at the event to discuss canning and do a book signing.  So I bought my free ticket and started thinking about what I would bring.  I should reveal that I enjoy preserving, or canning.  My mom did it when I was a girl, and I loved to hear the lids popping in the kitchen as they cooled.  I happen to have a concord grapevine minding its own business on a section of my chain link fence in the back yard.  For years I just kind of ignored it, sad to say.  Then one day I decided I was going to learn how to make grape jelly.  It is kind of an arduous process: picking, stemming, washing, boiling, squashing, straining, heating, mixing, pouring, capping, and boiling.  But at the end of a good canning day I have a counter full of homegrown grape jelly and I feel satisfied.  Well, last year I got a little overzealous and I made 25 pints of it.  I was concerned it would not be enough to last the winter.  I tried to calculate one jar per week times at least 8 months and I got some hoarder tendencies creeping in my thoughts.  I did gift several jars for Christmas to my loved ones, though.  And shortly into the winter season my family got sick of PB&J and the jars didn't move off the shelf too quickly.  My grapevine is just about ready to harvest, and this morning I still had seven jars of jelly left. 

I decided to bring five to the swap.  I showed up with my basket of jelly and proclaimed my newbie status.  I was greeting with an enthusiastic welcome and directed to a table.  The whole process was very friendly and cooperative, and I felt like a part of a cool club of healthy people who were eating off the land.  Participants prepared their presentations as I scoped out the spreads.  Organic veggies, lots of jellies, salsa, breads, nut butters, pickled cucumbers, pickled cherries, pickled watermelon rinds...  We each kept a list of our faves as we walked around.  When the time came for participants to walk around and indicate written interest on the product cards, I moved about the room with polite hesitation choosing my favorite items.  After the initial interest was declared, it was time to walk around and start suggesting swaps.  All swaps were to be conducted face-to-face.  And even though someone put her name on your card, it does not constitute commitment.  The hostesses demonstrated a faux no-go-swap where the inquiree frankly smiles a "no, thank you" and I was wondering how many of those I would get.  I walked past my own card several times and was relieved to see names on my card. People want my jelly!  I would be lying if I said I would not have had hurt feelings if no one expressed interest.  I'm grateful I did not have to experience that because I am quite sensitive, especially when it comes to something I've made.  So I checked out my card, and sadly there were no names that coincided with my wish list other than my facebook friend whom I knew we were going to swap amongst ourselves anyway.  The first person on the list had eggs.  I like eggs.  But I haven't made the switch to grain fed, free range, organic, healthy, better for you, expensive eggs yet.  I knew I had an 18-pack in the fridge so I wasn't too gung ho on that one.  But when I went to her table, she also had rhubarb jelly.  Yes, please!  So I asked her if she'd like to swap and she said yes and I was the proud new owner of a jar of rhubarb jelly and had just experienced my first successful food swap.  Sweet!  Further down on my expressed interest card was the apply basil jelly.  More jelly: different jelly.  I wanted to swap with her.  I approached her, asked to swap, and she declined.  Ouch.  Okay, its alright.  Moving on.  The lady with the smores kit approached me.  It wasn't on my list, but at second glance it looked like the graham crackers and the marshmallows were homemade.  I don't know if you've ever had homemade marshmallows, but seriously they are freaking amazing.  One time my neighbor made us an entire plateful and my family sat around our table devouring them.  "Sure!" I exclaimed.  She said her daughter loved grape jelly.  Now it was getting personal and I was picturing this momma making her girl a PB&J with my jelly.  Definitely a warm fuzzy.  Next I approached my friend, laughed through the formality of suggesting and agreeing to swap, and was down to two jars.  So I walked around the room with my jelly, wondering what to ask for.  A lot of stuff was already gone.  I lingered by the almond butter station - her card was full front and back so I knew she had a lot of options.  I slowed by the radish relish and saw one jar left, but shriveled in shyness not wanting to experience the rejection.  Then the peach salsa lady approached me!  Would you still like to swap?  Yes, please!  I actually had taken three samples of her salsa during my perusing time and it was one of my original faves.  She revealed that this was her first time and it felt funny and we laughed at our mutual swapping inadequacies.  One more jar.  Well, I could go home with it.  That wouldn't be that bad.  So I was loading my loot into my basket when the radish relish lady came over and asked if she had missed the jelly.  No, I have one more jar!  I would love the radish relish!  Her recipe was taken from the book, Food in Jars, written by the guest speaker at the event. 

I was so pleased with the outcome of my first swapping experience.  A host snapped my pic with my friend as I was walking out the door and I'm hoping to see it on their blog.  I'm also anxious to see the next food swap date posted.  Because I have a gravevine that is minding its own business on the chain link fence in my back yard and it is almost harvest time.