Except for the reason that I felt like putting these pottery bottles out today after saving them for a few years, it felt like a good way to celebrate the day. Some firecracker orange-red daylilies from the front garden spiced them up a bit. I purchased them because they reminded me of the austere, modest still-life paintings that the Italian painter, Giorgio Morandi painted over and over again.
Enjoy the day!
a reclaimed wood-fired soy bottle with sprigs of dill from herb planter
In the grocery store today, there was a single half napa cabbage for sale that looked pretty tired. I spied the vegetable grocery clerk and walked over to ask him if they had any more in the back. At first when I said, “hi” – he looked at me and said nothing. I said “hi” again and smiled this time. He said “hi” but looked glum. With a reluctant posture and very slow gait, he walked into the back to see if there were any more cabbages.
I waited by the door so as not to have him think I had forgotten about my request. He came out with two bedraggled cabbages and asked me which one I wanted. I asked him if he would cut one in half for me and pointed to the one that was lighter in weight. He said yes and went back to do the deed.
When he came out, I smiled at him and said, “You’re a doll,” and he smiled very briefly and said, “I wouldn’t go that far.”
Made my day!
“Ricki and the Flash” – a movie opening August 7th in which Meryl Streep plays an aging mother who left her family to be a rock musician. Kevin Kline plays her ex-husband, Audra MacDonald plays his wife and Mamie Gummer plays Meryl’s daughter (as in real life too.)
In the trailer below, someone says, “It doesn’t matter if your kids don’t love you. It’s not their job to love you. . . It’s your job to love THEM.” Ah, a universal truth mothers know all too well. And a second universal truth: “Sometimes a girl just needs her mother!”
Wimbledon Champion Novak Djokovic invited Wimbledon Champion Serena Williams to dance together at the Champions’ Dinner last night. She chose the music, “Night Fever” by the Bee Gees – and they are very charming together – take a look:
Went by the local health food grocery store called “Living Earth” here in our little town on a Saturday. Picked up some small golden beets, fresh watercress that looked like it had just been plucked from a cold mountain spring, small white nectarines and some organic yogurt from a local farm. Selected some nuts labeled “Himalayan nuts” – I think someone just thought that sounded like a good marketing name. Brought back the bounty and couldn’t wait to make my lunch.
Into a pottery dish, I spooned out organic whole milk yogurt (with luscious cream topping, I must admit.) Rinsed off a small white nectarine and sliced it, adding a generous sprinkle of nuts on top. I didn’t add any honey because the fruit was sweet enough.
Light, crunchy and delicious!
a tiny fallen rose & heuchera sprigs . . .
“Do no harm” is what doctors are taught first while trying to evaluate what can be done to improve someone’s health. It is also the title of a book by Henry Marsh, one of the world’s leading neurosurgeons who practices primarily in London. In addition, he has travelled to the Ukraine for fifteen years, consulting for people of all ages including young children who have growths in their brains.
I started reading his memoir yesterday afternoon. It’s organized by types of brain maladies and operations he has performed throughout his thirty-year career. Now sixty-five, Henry Marsh is a vibrant, good-looking, albeit sometimes tired looking fellow. It turns out that after a twenty-five year old marriage that ended in divorce, he met his second wife a year later. Kate Fox is a beautiful (that’s the only word to describe her) blonde, social anthropologist who co-directs a study center in England and writes books about whether the British are really grumpy by nature or not. (Not is the answer of her study – they are just too polite.) Anyhow, their marriage and his dedication to her in the book happily punctuates this neurosurgeon’s life. He’s been lucky to have been able to succeed at a profession that is both draining and what he himself describes as a “blood sport.”
Last night, I found a documentary called “The English Surgeon” based on Marsh’s fifteen year collaborations with a determined Ukrainian doctor who sought to improve medical care in general and brain surgery in particular. It was eye-opening to observe the stark hospital environs in which Marsh and his friend inhabit and to witness the equipment that they had to use: a Bosch drill, parts of plugs that are used and thrown away by the handfuls in the UK but preserved and used for ten years in the Ukraine. Rudimentary doesn’t begin to describe the level of medical care there. It is brutally stark and a sense of hopelessness pervades the human landscape. Faces are pale and full of apprehension and worry. Many of those who come to Marsh with their X-rays are beyond help. Through his friend’s translations, over and over again, Marsh has to tell people that there is nothing an operation can do and that he cannot help them.
One woman in her thirties thought she had a virus from an insect bite. After looking at her X-Rays, they could not bring themselves to give her the bad news that she would go blind and die within two or three years because she was by herself unaccompanied by a friend or family member. They asked her to bring her mother from Moscow for a future visit before breaking the news of her fatal diagnosis to her. People milled around in the waiting room, vying to see the brain doctor from the West. One fellow, Igor, was operated on successfully while awake, anchored to the operating chair while his head was opened up with the aforementioned Bosch drill. (We had a hard time watching that part of the documentary which won an Emmy.)
Today, I’m starting to read the third chapter of Henry Marsh’s book that I began yesterday. It’s clear from the stories he relates that most of the time, the hardest decision is whether to operate or not. Recently, someone I knew from high school had radiation for brain tumors arising from Stage IV Melanoma. His brain tumors receded but as a consequence of the treatment, he was left in a permanently altered mental and psychological state. His behavior now is anti-social, impatient and deeply depressed. No longer able to drive, he is dependent upon home-aides for just about everything. His depression resulting from the radiation was labelled as “organic” – meaning that it wasn’t going to go away with anti-depressants or talk therapy. “Cures” and their after-effects versus quality of life is an endless personal debate many of us will face, whether we like it or not.
The brain is our operating dock for the movie of our lives. Reading about Henry Marsh’s experience, his failures as well as his successes is both illuminating and sobering. There’s no explanation for why tumors occur in young children or adults. If you are not afraid of learning about human suffering and what courageous people do to ameliorate it, I can recommend his book, “Do No Harm.” Two documentaries about Marsh have been made called, “Your Life in Their Hands,” and “The English Surgeon.”
As we go through our day, listening to the news, making lunch and cleaning the house, it’s helpful to acknowledge how lucky we are (so far) and to appreciate the technology and medical care we take for granted wherever we happen to live.
Along with the grilled kielbasa sausage we had for supper tonight, I had a lone ear of corn in the fridge that shape-shifted into a golden pudding.
I cut the kernals off the cob and browned them in sweet butter along with some finely chopped vidalia onion. When cooling, added a little agave nectar, melted butter and a tablespoon of corn starch, stirring to mix well.
With a whisk, I beat 3 eggs, 1/2 cup of light cream, salt, pepper. Added the corn into the custard mix and poured into a buttered white fluted pan. Sprinkled a scant handful of shredded cheddar jack cheese on the top. Baked in a 400 degree oven for 45 minutes,
When it emerged from the oven, it smelled like Nectar of the Gods. Tasted pretty good too!
English cucumbers have been on sale at the market and I usually have one or two in the fridge. They’re crisp and flavorful to add to salads or to combine with wakame seaweed for a quick asian relish.
This morning, I thought it would be nice to have cream of cucumber soup for our lunch. It’s such a simple recipe and takes no time at all.
Wash the cucumber and slice lengthwise. With a spoon, gently scrape out the seeds; then rinse and cut the two lengths in half again. Then cut up into pieces about half an inch cubes. Melt some unsalted butter in a 1.5 quart pot, chop up half a vidalia onion and stir fry in the butter along with the pieces of cucumber.
When the vegetables have nicely browned, add 1/2-2 cups of chicken stock and cover, simmering for a half hour until tender. Let cool with the lid off. When soup is room temperature, pour into a blender and process into a smooth consistency. Pour back in the pot and add some light cream – a 1/2 -3/4 cup.
Taste it for seasoning – I didn’t add any salt but it’s up to you.
This cream of cucumber soup is light, tasty and so easy to make – I could probably eat it every day!
mulberryshoots 