Black Beans and Flan

Retrieving what I loved but abandoned: Poetry for its own sake. Ballet. Luckily, there's a beginners' class nearby, with Juliana -- such an ennobling teacher. (I wanted to take ballet when I was 10, but my parents said they couldn't afford lessons for all 5 of us, so none could have them. Made sense then.) I also loved to read, & loved color. And meditating -- call it resting!! I've been sitting peacefully for 10-20 minutes a day in the New Year. Oddly, it makes me more jumpy than before. I'm guessing it's a phase.

Also: casual hospitality. Last night, with 4 friends. They brought salad & fruit. Clark smoked meat & I made black beans. Here's the recipe, but first you must promise to sort the beans. I love the sound of them plinking into a white plate, then sliding into a pot to be rinsed. Yesterday I caught two bean-sized stones.

Black Beans

2 C. dry black beans

2 tsp. salt

olive oil

4 medium onions, finely chopped (or 2 bags of frozen, chopped onions.)

1 green pepper, chopped (or 1 bag of frozen, chopped green pepper. You can also mix red & green pepper.)

3 cloves garlic, mashed

1 tsp. cumin seed, crushed (Ground cumin, is OK, but for sharper flavor grind whole seeds with mortar & pestle. Last night I used ground.)

1 tsp. oregano

1/2 tsp. dry mustard

28-ounce can crushed tomatoes

juice of 1/2 lemon

Pick over, rinse, soak & cook the black beans in water with 2 tsp. salt.

Sauté the onion & pepper in olive oil until soft, about 5 minutes. Add garlic & cook a minute more. Add cumin, oregano, & mustard, & cook another minute or 2, stirring so the spices don't burn. Salt it a little. Add the tomatoes & simmer for a while, stirring occasionally & adding water if it's getting dry. Yesterday I cooked it about an hour, but you can cook it much less. Just simmer until you like it or until the time runs out. Then add the stewed black beans with a little of their cooking liquid & salt. If you add more liquid you have black bean soup. Cook until you like the way it tastes -- sometimes just 5 minutes; yesterday was about an hour. You can go slow or fast. After you add the beans, mash some of them so you have a thick soup. You can use a potato masher, but I recommend an immersion blender. Before serving, add lemon juice to taste. Serve with rice & chopped onions. Some people also like sour cream &/or chopped cilantro.

I was going to make a chocolate dessert, but something stopped me. Made flan instead. This recipe is from Margarita Zayas, who was our neighbor in Miami.

Margarita's Flan

Make a caramel by melting 1/2 C. sugar with 2 1/2 T. water in a small pan over medium heat. Be patient! Wait until it's brown, but not burnt. Pour that into a bread pan,* tilting it to cover the entire bottom. Then mix 1 can evaporated milk, 3 C. whole milk, 3/4 C. sugar, dash salt, 4 beaten eggs, 1 tsp. vanilla. Pour that over the carmel. Put the pan into a larger pan with water in it that goes halfway up the bread pan. Bake at 350° an hour or more, until the custard is set. Chill thoroughly, then turn the pan upside down on a platter so the custard is surrounded by carmel.

*I used glass custard cups instead, & did not turn them upside down for serving. It's comforting to have your own cup of custard, I think.

Getting to Absolute Zero

Written last night:

Dear Friends,
Around here, some people had the day off and some had to work. I decided to take the day off —  to not go to the gym, and never mind that Monday is the hardest class! That had NOTHING to do with my decision to stay home. Not to cook or clean or even paint and draw and read and shop. 

I have been trying to simplify my life, because I feel a debilitating sense of urgency that makes me want to hustle. It’s because I know now for certain that my days are numbered (never mind that I do not know the number), and also that I just plain want to focus on the good things. So it made sense this morning to take a break, breathe, focus, meditate —To remove myself from the urge to DO things. 

Secretly, I thought that by not doing anything, everything would get done. 
But nothing got done.  No checking off my to-do list. I’m not sure this makes sense, but by not doing anything I didn’t do anything. 
It was indeed a relaxing day. Hope you had the same!
Love,
k

How the year unfolds

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Every year, except for maybe one, I list 10 things that made a difference to me. Most just happened, without planning, as the year took shape.

2018

Ate less

Exercised more

Still jumpy, but now I stop and breathe sometimes

Read actual books

Watched less political commentary on TV

Traveled south to Modesto, north to Seattle, and west to Russian River

Re-discovered (after 50 years) my cousin Damien and his wife Adrienne, a Sacramento native

Keith and Judy married

Patrick and Steph bought a house nearby 

Best: I’m getting to know Patrick and Steph and I love the adults they have become

What are your 10 things?

Love,

k

People so passionate bring tears to my eyes

Dear Friends, 

I loved being in the Women’s March today! Just being in that crowd among people so passionate brought tears to my eyes. Thinking especially of the women in my family…

Love,

k

Where to paint a poem?

Written last night:
Dear Friends,

Today was the first poetry Thursday of 2018 at the library, and the subject was time. Here’s a poem I read. I like it so much that in Tallahassee I painted it inside the medicine chest so I could read it every morning as I brushed my teeth. I left that crazy medicine cabinet there when I moved to Sacramento. Here there are drawers and mirrors, so I’ve got to paint this beautiful poem somewhere else.

Love,

k

It’s the Dream by Olav H. Hauge

It’s the dream we carry

that something wondrous will happen

that it must happen

time will open

hearts will open

doors will open

spring will gush forth from the ground–

that the dream itself will open

that one morning we’ll quietly drift

into a harbor we didn’t know was there.

from Borealis (March/April 2002), translated from the Norwegian by Robert Hadin

Close your eyes and ...

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

I just came back from learning three ways to meditate. It was at the library in Davis, that little college town 20 minutes from here. I didn’t want to get into a religious thing, just to learn more about meditating. You know I’ve been meditating off and on since I was 17, so it’s a part of me. It’s one of those back burner things that I want to bring to the forefront of my life. 

There were eight of us sitting around a table in the dimly-lit library meeting room. With the lights on low it felt intimate. A woman and her husband (I’ve forgotten their names.) organized this. She gave a brief introduction of each method, and then led us in practicing it. We each had some wooden beads and a card with words on it -- each of them a Sanskrit way to say God. 

So, three ways to meditate:

1. Breathing 

You sit down and relax and then you say the word (Gauranga was ours) silently to yourself when you breathe in and then say it out loud when you breathe out.

2. Beads (also called Japa)

On each bead you say your mantra out loud. I lost count on the beads, but it doesn’t take long — maybe three minutes. *

3. Group meditation (Kirtan)

You sing or chant the mantra. First the leaders sing it, then the group sings it, over and over. This was beautiful. Her booklet says you can sing mantras to any tune you like, with or without musical instruments. Maybe I can work my ukulele in somehow … 

Love,

k

*I drew the beads on my new gold sketchbook (Thanks, Mary Kaye!), sharing space with today's other inspiration (Rosa Parks, Joan Didion, Gustav Klimt's The Kiss) and humdrum to-do lists:

Train station people

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

I admire Terry Tempest Williams, and was going to hear her speak at the Presidio (not sure what that is — a park? near the Golden Gate Bridge??) in San Francisco today. But at the last minute I got an email that she’s sick, and the event has been postponed until fall. So I went to the train station a few blocks away from here to cancel my Amtrak ticket.

I love the train station. It’s big and historical. They let dogs in — just not on the trains. So Zing went with me and curled on the floor while I worked with the ticket seller. Then we looked into the big waiting room, with its clock and historical mural. You always see a great mix of people, and today this is what we saw. I leaned against the wall, well behind these young women, to sketch them.

Love,

k

Celebrating love

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

The best times in my life are when I see people I love, or am about to love, and hug them and just bask in the pleasure of being together. I think heaven will be like this, and so was last weekend. At Jeffrey and Megan’s wedding in Ann Arbor I met people I’d heard about but never met, and I loved them immediately. They made me feel that way. Everyone was celebrating love.   

Same thing the following couple of days with Mary's family in Columbus — and that family includes me!

Love,

k

I'd love to spend a rainy day reading here:  U-M Student Union

Sacramento airport

As I was walking Ann Arbor's crowded streets to the reception

I followed some people into this graffiti space

Two kids asked me to take their photo, and then they took mine

A box named Saturday

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Walt Seifert, a journalism professor at OSU, used to repeat, “The way to get a thing done is to do it.” That’s all we had to remember, he said — if you have a piece of paper in your hand, file it immediately. But I still put things aside — I’m starting to pile papers in a box named Saturday. Which was today. It took a couple of hours, but the box is empty now. 

It was a simple Saturday.

Love,

k

Looks like Zing is losing patience with me

I wanted to capture the slanted evening light at the Stanford mansion gate

Makeup anxiety

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Marisa is not as exasperated as she looks here. She’s patiently showing me how to put on makeup. I didn’t wear much in laid-back Tallahassee, and after Clark died I stopped wearing any makeup at all — it was kind of like I disappeared — until I geared up again in April, before Gretchen and Rich got married. "Gotta wear makeup for a wedding," the makeup guy told me then — "otherwise you’ll just disappear from the photos.” And very soon Jeffrey and Megan are getting married. I’m sure nobody cares if I wear makeup or not, but to my surprise I’m having fun with it.

Later today my friend Cher and I were talking about anxiety -- I think I have makeup anxiety. Marisa is helping me get over it. She did one side of my face and made me do the other side. Was it my imagination, or were people looking at me crooked as I walked down J Street after that?

Love,

k

Is there a useful worry?

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Nothing much happened today. 

But  here’s a list of useless worries I have had. I am only telling you so you don’t feel ridiculous about your own useless worries. Any of these can be accompanied by trembling and/or nervous coughs. 

1. Somebody’s going to call me on the phone and ask an important question I can’t answer. 
2. I have to hurry.
3. Zing’s barking is going to get me evicted.
4. I have missed an important phone call.
5. I have to hurry. 
6. My toilet is leaking onto the unit below.
7. The automatic garage door will come down on my car and split Rosa in half.
8. Zing is more anxious than I am.
9. It’s my fault.
10. I am not worrying about major worries.
11. It’s too late.
12. I will turn into oncoming traffic on a one-way street (lots of those here in midtown).
13. These are such insignificant worries, revealing my pettiness. I should be worrying about larger things.
14. I lost my keys. 
15. I lost my phone.
16. My car Rosa has left the parking lot without me.

I hope that makes you feel better! 

Love,

k

Bent like a tree and sweet like a vine

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

This morning was devoted to financial things, and part of it brought me to tears. I was looking at the bank record, with the check register in Clark’s handwriting. Then his marks stopped and mine took over. I caressed his last entry and without warning began to cry. Who cries over a check register? I think it might have started with the way that lovely jasmine scent has been meeting me at various street corners these days. We had jasmine vines in Tallahassee and so did our neighbors and sometimes they were a trailing nuisance, but their scent was heavenly. I was remembering then and living now. Except for this morning, I don’t ever remember loving a check register.

And last month Mary and I talked about doing things the easy way — why do we always think we ought to tough it out? This is my guide for the next three months — Do it the easy way! That and also Trees. I have been loving my kinship with trees, and whenever I feel kind of bent over I look around and pick a tree and adjust my posture accordingly. Crown may be askew, but it is in the sky!

I know you all go through similar financial doings, and maybe even feel bent over sometime, so I’m in good company!

Love,

k

Don't mess with me!

Written Wednesday:

Dear Friends,

Do you ever get in one of those “Don’t mess with me” moods? Today that’s how I felt. I think it’s a sign I’m coming back to life. Clark would applaud. He said I let people take advantage of me. (I hear you saying he should know! But please: Don’t mess with me.)

Around noon I gave a dollar to a woman playing a flute on the corner of 8th and O, near here. It was beautiful, and I said “Thank you.” 
“Don’t put that money here,” she said, pointing to her basket of dollar bills. “I can’t take your money if you say ‘Thank you.’” 
Huh??
Part of me said to myself everyone deserves respect. You’ve got to learn respect, Kathleen. She’s got her reasons. Walk a mile in her shoes.
And the other part of me put my money back in my pocket and said (silently), “Don’t mess with me!”

This morning I started drawing class at the Crocker Museum, and everyone else had perfect lines. I cannot and do not even want to draw a straight line, so when I showed my work it was all squiggly and imperfect. My eyes said to the women around the table, “Don’t mess with me.” 
“Oh, that’s very free,” said the teacher. Careful, teacher. Don’t mess with me.

And this morning I asked Zing if he likes the Treat&Train machine I bought him at the suggestion of UC-Davis vets. He jumps back at the sound it makes — I push a remote and “ZZZZ… click … whoosh!”  It releases a treat Zing hates it, and he told me so. I agree with him that it’s a stupid machine, even if it was invented by a genius veterinarian. I checked Amazon’s return policy and packed it up. So far and no farther, vets. Don’t mess with me. Don’t mess with Zing either.

It’s International Women’s Day, and I may be going overboard, but even if I am … you know … don’t mess with me!

Love (really!),
k

Today was heavenly

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Today was for dodging raindrops, staying inside, avoiding the streets. I almost did the things I’d planned — groceries, etc, — but then I looked outside and realized I don’t have to. It is hard to cut that tight-schedule habit. 

I’m glad I took it easy because today turned out to be a gem. In the morning I gave everything a second coat of paint. After lunch Liz came over. Her husband, a dog-walking friend of Zing’s, calls her the “travel fairy.” Turns out she used to work for one of those on-line travel companies. Her eyes light up when she’s explaining perks and options — things that make me short of breath. She helped me book a flight to Columbus and gave me confidence I can easily do it again.

Like some of you, lately I’ve been thinking about eternity — death makes us hope for life. I’ve been thinking, what if this is heaven right now? And sometimes I realize that this right now is just perfect. Heavenly. That’s the way it was with Liz today. I needed help and she helped me. We laughed. We talked.  We ate cheese and little tomatoes. I mentioned Clark and how our travel plans were undone by his death. And then Liz told me about her scrapes with death. She’s been dodging it for awhile. Getting good plane tickets seemed a bonus today. Heavenly.

Hope your day has such sweet moments!

Love,
k

Help in carrying the heavy things

Dear Friends,

No, no! I’m still in tech hell! Today it’s something about my printer. But — —

The printer is fine. So is Wifi connection. Something in the air between them is poisonous.  I spent 2 1/2 hours on the phone trying to get it fixed. Finally, the man on the phone gave up and said I had to take the printer to Best Buy. 

Which meant I had to pick it up. That printer is heavy! I picked it up from its table by the window in the studio. I put it down on the table by the door. I opened the door. (Zing was waiting in Rosa, who was parked in front of the building so I could carry the printer directly out rather than go through the series of locked doors to the garage.) I carried the printer out the door and put it down on the hallway floor. I closed and locked the door. I picked up the printer and walked the short distance to the elevators. I put it down on the bench by the elevators. I summoned the elevator. It came. Then I picked up the printer and went inside the elevator, wrestling with the door so it wouldn’t close on me. The paper drawer tumbled to the floor. I put the printer down on the elevator floor. Then an angel appeared. 

A man, actually. But I believe there are angels in disguise sometimes. The man came inside the elevator and pressed the down button. On the first floor, he picked up the printer, lightly, and held the door open for me. I was carrying the paper drawer. The man held open the next couple of doors and then we were on the sidewalk. I gestured to Rosa there at the curb and opened her front door. The man said hello to Zing and put the printer on the passenger seat. I put the paper drawer on the floor. I said, “Thank you!” and the man disappeared. 

Then Nathan, the Geek Squad man from Best Buy Natomas, checked the printer. He said it’s fine. Who knows why it won’t print with Wifi? Saturday a Geek person is coming (for $99.99), and if anyone knows the way out of tech hell, he/she should.

It was a quick day. I was planning to explore Roseville or Placerville. Instead, I spent hours on the phone learning little. Still, I am hopeful. Really. 

And to think, all I wanted to do was print one of those IRS tax forms!

Tomorrow I’m taking a Crocker Museum bus trip to San Jose. It will be a relief.

Love,
k

If a tree could walk ...

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

It’s a turning point in my relationship with Zing — I am fashioning a life of my own and going places without my dog! This takes some planning, because he’s not completely out of his Separation Anxiety, but we’re both calmer these days. So, using the resources I’ve developed, I will be stretching the time I leave Zing at home alone. (Of course, right now that’s about two minutes…) Today I gave him the anti-anxiety pills that quiet him for several hours, and then walked three blocks to the Crocker Museum to have lunch with my new friend Faith. Before I left the apartment I turned on my iPhone video to record any whimper Zing might make. Lunch with Faith was so inspiring that I forgot to worry he might be barking. Faith is a beautiful woman who almost always wears a cape. Today it covered a black striped menswear suit that she said she’d bought in Italy. She’s 91 years old and a cheerleader to me. We met when our dogs crossed paths in the park. When I got back home I discovered the audio somehow didn’t work, so I don’t know if Zing barked or not. Let’s just say he didn’t. 

I’ve been thinking about those three words that I’ll carry around in my head for three months: not New Year’s resolutions, but guides. I’ve decided to eliminate Beauty for now — even though beauty is in the back of my mind all day, and I’m convinced we each define our own beauty. I’m sure it will be a future Word for me. But now my words are Spirit, Breathe and Tree. 

Spirit reminds me that I want to ask people about their spiritual life. Sometimes I feel confused and I want to know what has meaning for others.

As for Breathe — Patrick has been encouraging me to slow down and breathe. I want to count to five breathing in and six breathing out each time I pass through a door. Of course, I haven’t done that even one time yet! 

And the Tree notion came to me from walking on these tree-lined streets. For most of my life I’ve been thinking I should stand up straighter, walk  more confidently, and lately — do something tight with my core. Those admonitions never work, and as I get older I think I slouch even more and lead with my head sticking out front, like a chicken maybe. So I decided to stand like a tree and walk like a tree might if it could. Trees are all shapes. They stick out this way and that with a lovely grace. I’m going to try to walk less like a model and more like a tree.

Love,
k

Happy Graffiti

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

It took three irregular nights, but this morning I finally shook off the jet lag and woke up California time. As usual, I  showered and dressed and then Zing stretched, jumped to the floor, and joined me for a quick walk in the dark city. Only this morning, when we got on the elevator and the door closed and I sleepily pushed the down button, there was a 2” blue sign taped above: BE NICE. I stared at it as we went down. On the first floor the elevator door opened to another sign: IT’S NOT HARD TO BE NICE … SAY HI!! and then another BE NICE on the lobby door.

I just had to thank the universe for that note writer. Our building is kind of stodgy, so I knew the signs would be down soon, and they were. Still, I hope more pop up. (Yes, I thought of joining in with a sign of my own, but this little happy graffiti campaign belongs to someone else.) It was a great way to begin the day.

Other than that, we enjoyed a mostly gray and quiet Sunday. Zing and I did walk over the yellow bridge later on, to inspect the current after the rains. The Sacramento River was rushing faster than ever, this time carrying large trees that must have fallen in the wind. Like the ocean, rivers are not to be messed with. 

I’m going to sleep now so I can wake up early and see if there is another encouraging note in the elevator. 

Love,

k