The luxury of time

When the first of two alarms gently nudged me awake this morning, I took a moment to orient. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've set an alarm clock? Hell, I don't even have one on my night table at home because I have two in the bedrooms next to mine; they are named Jack and Oliver. So to be awakened by a briiing into which I opted and to then have a leisurely amount of time to style my hair and get dressed thoughtfully to then have time to go out for breakfast and coffee before heading into the Library of Virginia to use my entire, or least what felt entire, brain for uninterrupted learning has felt like a dip in the lap of luxury. Let me simply say that I am happy to be here.

The day consisted of panel discussions about what editors want to see, how the best-written recipes are structured, ways in which we can all better manage social media and a tiny master class I registered for before it filled. I feel tired in a much different way that I usually do this time of day. Yes, the boys did just call me to mediate a situation from afar, but that was brief and distant. I'm tired in the way one is after focusing and contemplating and learning and networking, and that feels really good. And, I'm still a little bit high about the master class instructor, Todd Kliman (dining editor of The Washingtonian), saying about a couple sentences from my piece, "Damn that's good. Beautiful."

I think many stay-at-home parents desire and benefit from experiences like these, times where we take time and space for ourselves. When I hugged the boys goodbye yesterday afternoon, we all felt sad, and they asked why I was leaving. I said, "Sweeties, everyone deserves the opportunity to follow through on their passions, to take some time for themselves, learn something new, meet new people. I will miss you but I'm really excited about this chance, and it will be good for me."

As important as maintaining a sense of self distinct from Mom is modeling that for my children. I want them to see a woman who is a great mother, one who is loving and engaged and there for them every step of the way but who also prioritizes and takes care of herself. I want them to see that their father is fully on board with that, happy to support me and to make my short absence work. I want the boys to expect that their spouses will want to and should be supported in doing the same (if they so choose) and to know that pursuing education and personal fulfillment can be lifelong ventures that enrich them every step of the way.

Nanny's influence

I stood for a long while at the sink, washing and trimming the flat of strawberries from Sunday's farmers market. In my left hand, between thumb and forefingers, I held one berry at a time. In my right, I gently gripped the handle of a paring knife and sliced the stem end off with a motion running towards my body. My hands worked together in a practiced way, the repetitive motions so unconsciously deft that when I plucked the last berry from the colander, I was surprised. Nanny did it this way, my Mom does too. Tom always gets nervous watching me, especially because he keeps our knives so sharp, but it's the way I learned and the way I like to do it. As I tossed tops into the compost bin and berries into a large Pyrex measuring cup, I thought of Nanny. I miss her. I miss her grace and kindness and generous spirit. I feel sad that all the good she put into the world is now but memories, albeit important ones that still make a difference to many people.

I thought about the folks I encounter who lack this grace, who act with ugliness, entitlement or jealousy and how disappointing it is that there are people like that spreading ill will rather than goodness.

The stuff I learned from Nanny is the stuff that isn't taught but rather, and more powerfully, modeled. I don't know that I'm as kind as Nanny nor, in some ways, as strong. But much of how I try to be in the world -generous, thoughtful, kind, present- comes from her influence, directly and through her daughter, my mom.

I remember once being in the car with Mom, decades ago in Lake Charles, driving down Nelson Road back home from what was then Delchamps grocery store. Nelson is a busy road, and ahead of us on the righthand shoulder, we saw a woman and young child walking, struggling with heavy bags in their arms and the hot Louisiana sun beating down on their necks. Cars whizzed passed them, but Mom, without considering the alternative, pulled over and asked if we could give them a ride home. I can't remember if they agreed; I hope they did but the outcome wasn't what made such an impression on me that day. What seared itself into my conscience was the act itself and the dignity and respect my mother accorded the duo in her gentle offer to help.

Nanny would have done the same thing. She grew up poor as get out, though better off than Papa, my grandfather, but as with so many who never have much materially, she was incredibly generous with what she did possess, things and also kindness. Her sincerity, her tolerance, her patience and willingness to serve as open ear and shoulder to cry on made such an impact on so many people. She and Papa helped others in every way they could, and I grew up hearing those stories and learning from them.

Though I wish I'd developed a thicker skin after all these years, I am still both upset and offended when I witness stingy and and entitled behavior. Both strike me as fairly selfish really; it's one thing to stand up for and take care of oneself, but it's quite another to act dismissively without reason.

I made a bunch of jam with most of the strawberries and will put up a last batch tomorrow to use up the remaining eight cups. (A flat of berries is 20+ cups y'all.) And I thought about how lucky I was to have Nanny in my life for so long and how the best way to honor her is to comport myself like she would have as best I can.

Strawberry Cardamom Jam, beautiful beet salad, smoked chicken

Despite being up from 3:15 - 5:15 this morning (Oliver woke up, turned on his moon light, decided it looked like an eyeball and instead of simply turning it off, came to get me to do so; he went back to sleep; I did not.), I managed to lead a nap-free, productive life today. Happy Monday! The boys started camp, and both were thrilled. Jack is doing a really cool day camp that Tom did when he was J's age; it's half computer programming, half sports, and Jack has big plans to create the perfect video game which will make money despite being free and showing no ads. I love his idealism. Ol is doing the same program he attended last summer and was really happy to be back at school and to have so many buddies in his group. It was marvelously sublime to have some quiet hours alone.

In addition to celebrating Percy's birthday (really hope you know that means nothing more than a longer than usual walk and many fruit and veggie treats), I cleaned and trimmed the flat of strawberries I bought yesterday (roughly 20 cups if you wonder about the flat->cup amount), made a strawberry cardamom jam that is really delightful and then set up double the original amount to macerate overnight. I'll can it tomorrow and will post the recipe ASAP. If strawberries are growing locally near you, now's the time to preserve them. Though strawberries are seriously lacking in pectin, I really don't like using commercial pectin products and so today added a grated apple to the pot and cooked until 218. This has set up really nicely!

The boys and I watched The Adventures of Milo and Otis this afternoon because Milo looks like Nutmeg and Otis, Percy. It was kinda campy and strange but delightful all at once. Dudley Moore is just going nuts with his narrating responsibilities, and I feel this movie is what has subsequently given many people the idea of posting pictures and videos of their pets online. Then I made pasta because one of Tom's aunts, who is hilarious, sent the kids battery-powered spaghetti twirling forks and as you can imagine, we had to put them to use immediately!

T came home early to watch the USA-Ghana match with the  boys. It slays me that the man never utters a word of interest about soccer, ever, but when the World Cup plays, he morphs into an intense fan. Anyway, during all that mayhem I smoked some chicken breasts over oak chips and made a beet-wax bean salad with what I bought yesterday at the FM. Aren't chioggia beets' rings and variegation cool?!?! I tossed in some chopped orange and dressed the whole thing with a honey-red wine vinaigrette. Lovely, lovely!

Fatigue is now getting the bets of me, so off to bed I go. Buona notte!