A Brief Musing

It keeps occurring to me, in a beat me over the head and smack me in the face kind of way, the total disparity between the almost instantaneous way in which I verbally began to refer to my mother in the past tense while on the other hand my mind, my imagination, my thoughts continue to function as though my mother was still present in my day-to-day life. Of course I'm struck by this often because my mother is pretty much all I think about these days.

So, what is the deal? Is it two separate parts of mind engaging on different levels? Has the part of my brain that controls my speech accepted her death and filed it away rationally? This is an interesting theory given that I am not known for my rational, logical way of speaking; in fact I'm more known for tripping all over my words and making an ass out of myself.

Does your conscious, walking, talking self adapt more quickly, maybe in order to deal with cultural mores - since I can imagine the looks I'd be getting if I was out and about referring to my mother in present tense constantly - while the subconscious remains mired in the goop of dealing with and trying to come to terms with mortality?

Mommy

I chose "Sweet Water" as the name of my blog after an early spring day spent with my mother at a local maple syrup festival. Sweet Water is the name the Native Americans gave to the sweet sap they discovered flowing through the maple trees that were (and are) so abundant in the area. A mythology was developed around the maple tree and the process of sugaring to create maple syrup, the sweet water itself was thought to be a gift from the Great Spirit, the lifeblood of the tree, sent to sustain the lifeblood of the people through long northern winters.

At the time the name held for me the beauty found in nature and life in its simplest form. It's something I strive to slow down and enjoy every day.

Today the name means more to me than I could have guessed at the time.

My mother passed away on July 15th.

That day at the festival was one of our last as mother and daughter and even better as best friends out enjoying time alone together. I am still in shock over passing as it was so sudden and without warning but I am also finding myself focusing on the strength of our relationship and the beauty of every moment of our lives spent together. Sweet Water.

My mother knew the secret of Sweet Water, she was so attuned to the important things in life, family, friends, nature, love, simplicity.

I knew this blog would be about my life somehow...but I never expected life to be what it is at this moment. I have next to no idea where I'm going from this point, my whole world is upside down and every plan I had made is being re-worked as I write. I've got no choice but to keep moving.

So, here goes...

A Tale of Two Salts - And One Very Paranoid Man

My personal peanut gallery is for the most part extremely receptive to my culinary escapades. I might even flatter myself by suggesting that they enjoy the results of my efforts more often than not.

With one exception.

My father is a man who does not appreciate culinary adventures. He does not enjoy the results of the majority of my efforts. He will eat: my pizza, my pasta with tomato sauce, my empanadas (as long as I refer to them as meat patties in his presence). But that is about the extent of it.

In fact on many an evening when I am cooking he will ask what SeaBass might eat if I am making "that stuff".

Beyond this general avoidance of anything I've cooked, he also fears many of the new and exotic ingredients I've brought into the house. He is afraid I might be sneaking them into his food - trying to convert bring him over to my side. Take different salts for example.

Allow me to demonstrate the kind of fear and paranoia I'm dealing with.

Here we have a picture of the typical selection of salts available in my pantry:


We have kosher salt in the box, my father's table salt in his shaker (the shaker is a totem of my father's hold on his traditional, trusted food items), sea salt in the salt pig, and in the silver shaker - more of my father's table salt, as filled by mother (who he typically trusts not to attempt any kind of sneak attack conversions on him).

It was the other night at the dinner table that the depth of his paranoia was revealed.

We were laughing at my dad's refusal to use this salt shaker:

which, since it was a gift bought for me, he assumes is filled with one of the exotic forms of salt, ergo "not real salt" and he refuses to go within 10 feet of it. No matter how many times we've assured him that no one is tampering with the salt or trying to mess with his seasonings, he will not be swayed. No fancy, new-fangled, unknown salt shaker for him.

He reached for his trusty shaker

when SeaBass said, "hey, how do you know somebody didn't fill that shaker with sea salt


or kosher salt

when it was empty a couple of days ago?"

To which my father replied with an exultant look on his face, "Ha, I knew someone would try that, so I emptied it into the garbage and refilled it myself."

He was very pleased with himself, and pleased that he was given the opportunity to share with us (his opponents in this battle of ingredients) that he was on his guard, wary at all times.

The rest of us? Well we were just plain shocked....amused, and impressed that he thought we would go that far to convert him, and pleased that he thinks so highly of our creative abilities in thinking up ways to convert him.

But mostly just shocked.

This is what I'm dealing with people.

Dog vs. Geese

This is a daily occurrence.

We're enjoying our leisurely, mostly obedient stroll on the beach when Dolan suddenly notices geese overhead.

She considers her options. She's at the point where if the birds are too far away she won't waste her energy. But, if they're close enough, and they often are, I'm pretty sure they enjoy the chase as much as Dolan does...

Then the action begins and the chase is on.
Dolan hits full speed within a few strides while Sugar and I stand back and watch it all play out.

She's a little hard to see here but that little splash in the middle distance is my puppy, still focused on the geese.

The chase continues pretty much until the geese get tired of messing with Dolan and fly off into the wild blue yonder, at which point Dolan turns abruptly around and runs back to me, still at full speed and looking ecstatic.

Dolan seems pretty sure that one day she'll be able to fly, or maybe that the geese will just stop flying and play fair with her. I figure there's no harm in letting her continue to believe it. Both she and the birds seem to enjoy their little game.

Incoming Storm, Outgoing Slobber

No you're not seeing spots.

What's that? No, no I'm sure you're screen is not smudgy.

An explanation? Sure, I guess I could come up with one of those. Does this sound believable?

The photographer (read: trigger happy picture snapper) in question was too enamored of their surroundings (and too oblivious due to continued involuntary consciousness) to notice the extremely visible dog slobber/canine induced splash marks covering the camera lens.

Very symbolic of the level of (non) professionalism of said photographer (read: trigger happy picture snapper).
I had NO intention of taking pictures yesterday evening. I was exhausted and bleary eyed and really just wanted to get the chore of dog walking over with as quickly as possible. I took one look at the skies over the beach however, and was suddenly wide awake.

The dogs and I ran back to the house, grabbed the camera and for about an hour I totally forgot how tired I was.

...it wasn't until I put the pics on the camera that I noticed the spots splattering all the images.

Do you think I could pass them off as artistic effect?

Sunrise and Sleeplessness

My good pal insomnia visited last night...on some occasions I spend these sleepless hours curled in bed - eyes glued shut, mind spinning in an ever tightening spool of anxieties and incoherent, disjointed thoughts.

On other occasions I haul my fidgety butt out of my cozy bed (not so cozy in these dark hours - a little suffocating in fact) and work until my mind numbs itself into doziness.

Last night was one of the latter. At the darkest hour of 3 a.m. I reached the ultimate point of frustration with my madly twirling brain and jumped out of bed - figuring an hour of staring at the computer screen would do me in...

...2 and 1/2 hours later I decided to make the best of my continued consciousness and head to the beach to shoot the sunrise.

I know it was gorgeous, I've got the pictures to prove it



Unfortunately I still haven't slept...so I don't really remember being there.

Peace and Poop

Directly following my little whine here about how I've been feeling lately I thought I'd take the dogs and go searching for some photographic inspiration. We ended up clambering (Note: I clambered, fearing for my life, the dogs strolled gracefully) down the hillside to a popular local fishing spot

Once I made it down the slope in one piece (note to self: next time I go on a photographic adventure...real shoes not flip flops) I released the hounds so they could wander and I could focus on picture taking

pretty, huh?

We were all having a wonderful time exploring. The dogs were running around, sniffing and darting in and out of the water and I was trying to take decent pictures without losing my flip flops in suctioning mud.

Of course, being a responsible pet owner, I called for the dogs every few minutes and kept my ears open for sounds of trampling through the grass and trees.

I looked up from shooting at one point to see both dogs sniffing around in a meadow on the other side of the stream. I stopped to watch them and soak in the moment of peace and solitude. It was one of those unexpected instances when I am reminded of how lucky I am to live where I do and I am completely satisfied with the experience of my life. Unfortunately the moment ended abruptly as I watched Sugar suddenly drop to the ground and begin to roll ecstatically in the grass.

All you dog folks out there will have an idea where I'm headed with this, for those of you unaccustomed to dogs and their body language here's something to keep in mind when dealing with canines in general: Rolling around on the ground in great abandon means one of two things...

a) "Yay! This sunny, warm ground feels so damn good on my fur! It's great to be a dog!" or

b) "Yay! There is some seriously gross stinkiness right here on this ground. I must roll around and spread it all over my fur...like a puppy mudbath! It's great to be a dog!"

Can you guess which of these Sugar was experiencing? I'll give you a hint...

That would be Sugar - joyous in her coating of horse poop. How do I know for sure it was horse poop? Because I spent the 10 minutes after snapping this pic trying to hold Sugar still in the stream in order to clean her off as best I could, while at the same time getting intimately acquainted with the substance.

Thus ended our peaceful afternoon by the stream.

If it wasn't for those moments of peace and gratefulness I wonder if I would find it so easy to laugh when faced with a pet covered in poop? I hope I never have to find out.

Where I'm At

I'm not going to whine, just want to explain where I've been and why.

I've been feeling pretty poopy lately, physically and emotionally.

At the time of the nervous breakdown I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue and though I'm doing a gazillion times better than I was at the time of diagnosis, I still have my moments (or, more accurately, my days or weeks).

It's always hard to identify what precipates these swings into low energy, sleepiness, achiness and general inability to function. It seems that any change to my day to day routine has an effect. I try to prepare for these instances but it doesn't always work.

I get very frustrated with myself for feeling this way, which I think escalates the problems and turns the whole downslide into a kind of cyclical whirlwind in which physical symptoms cause emotional distress, causes my body to shut down...causes me to want to scream! But of course screaming would take too much energy and so I just sit and wait it out.

It's especially frustrating at this beautiful time of the year when I want to be out, enjoying the sun, taking pictures of everything around me.

When I'm in this state everything seems dulled and I feel like I'm wasting moments and days of beauty.

Spring - More and Less

It seems that spring has been a bit slow in arriving here in cottage country this year. Of course my perspective may be skewed by the visit to upstate New York last weekend. Damn those blossoms! Allow me to demonstrate.

Here we have the barely opening blossoms in the yard...

Here, the beautiful fully opened blossoms declaring the fully arrived springiness of New York.


And now the sad, struggling blooms of my fair surroundings.


Damn you upstate New York, damn you and your early arriving spring! Our poor trees here don't know what to do with themselves. They've started blooming on multiple occasions now, only to have Mother Nature laugh in their fragile faces and rain down with the nasty weather. Trying hard not to get my hopes up this time.

p.s There's a chance I'm a little obsessed with bokeh. Forgive me in advance for many more pictures featuring artistically blurry backgrounds.

Thank you.

31

One week ago I turned 31. Now, I typically enjoy birthdays. I enjoy presents, love cake and as a kid I was the type who couldn't wait to turn a year older in order to reach the next pinnacle of maturity. Even turning 30 felt great. I couldn't wait to say good-bye to my 20s, a decade that was already mostly lost to substance induced haze anyways.

But 31, um well, it has knocked me on my ass and I have yet to pick myself back up.

30 for some reason felt safe. 31 feels like something major has changed. Or maybe more correctly, it feels like something SHOULD change and I just can't seem to figure out what or how to make said change, or to do any of this fast enough to solve this looming crisis of identity.

31 feels like grown up is no longer something to achieve, something awaiting me around the next bend...IT'S HERE! And now I can't find a rock big enough to hide under.

I feel a little like Mr. Wheels here looks,


like reality has just awoken me from a wonderful sun soaked nap and I am super unsure about what the hell is going on here in the real world.

People keep saying things to me that include words like "marriage" and "children". These are things I was sure I had all the time in the world to consider. Now apparently my proverbial clock should be ticking.

Perhaps I've already lost my hearing due to old age but I can't hear any ticking anywhere.

There's so much I want to do before all this stuff people are yammering about but now it feels like the pressure is growing to the point of overwhelming. The more pressure I feel the more likely I am to run and hide. Of course there's also the reality that overwhelming pressure is what won me a breakdown in the first place.

So now I feel more like this,

Screaming at myself in my reflection and still I can't decipher a damn thing.

Worth the Wait

In Grade 10 I took a photography class. I had to fulfill an arts requirement and given that paint-by-numbers is about the extent of my artistic skill, I figured photography was my best bet. I expected to get through the class quietly and hopefully without embarrassing myself totally. What I didn't expect was how much I would enjoy it and develop a passion for it.

The problem at that point was that photography was an expensive hobby and of course, since we were still shooting with film, it required a darkroom. So in the (many) years since my intro photog. class my passion wained some. I thought I had pretty much forgotten how much I loved snapping pictures of my surroundings.

And then I started blogging. Blogging meant taking pictures again and then I discovered the beauty of photoshop and how much easier it is to develop and manipulate your own pictures at home. I've been shooting with a point and shoot to this point and I knew I wanted to move up to a DSLR but I figured I'd wait a while to make the investment.

Then two weeks ago I dropped the camera in Georgian Bay. Interestingly, I was in pursuit of a 50 cent tennis ball that Dolan left out on the thinning ice when the $200 camera slipped out my pocket and disappeared through the ice.

Logic - also not one of my strongest suits.

The point of all this is that 15 years after I first consciously thought about my surroundings through the lens of a camera I am now the proud owner of a DSLR...and man am I excited!

So, here are a few shots from my first weekend of camera ownership. Learning the ins and outs of my new-baby is half the fun.

Dolan-dog

It is a well known fact that Border Collies are the smartest breed around. I knew this before the arrival of Dolan-dog. What I didn’t know was that not only are they smarter than all other dogs, they are also smarter than all humans. Or at least this human. The thing about Dolan is, not only is she an incredibly intelligent Collie, she is also an incredibly stubborn Husky.

The decision to adopt Dolan was, to say the least, spur of the moment. More precisely it involved a visit from a friend with a litter of abandoned pups and the split second decision to grab the cutest one and hide her from Sea Bass until the friend had left and we had no choice but to become puppy parents. Yes, I am sneaky…and manipulative. What of it? I knew what her breed mix was and I thought I understood what I was getting in to. However all the research in the world could not prepare me for a dog that is smarter than most of the people I’ve met in my life and even more stubborn than I am. Believe me, that is an impressive level of stubborn.


In our first year together I was brought to tears more times than I care to remember. I could often be found walking down the street alternating calling out “Dolan! Here Dolan! Come to Mommy!” And incoherently blubbering something along the lines of “Fine, I don’t care anymore. I’m not you’re Mommy. You’re a homeless dog now.” Hmm, perhaps I’ve said too much? The thing about Dolan is that she is smart enough to pick her battles.

A year and a few months into our life together she no longer runs away at every opportunity, instead she chooses her moments. She only runs now when there is something really worth while running for. It’s an interesting thing to observe.

We’ll be on our beach enjoying a lovely, stress free walk. Dolan is off-leash this time of the year because the beach is empty, the neighbours know her, and, well, the dog needs a good run damnit! Dolan is running along, obeying my every command not to run onto people’s property or dart off out of sight. I’m feeling immensely pleased with our progress and deeply in love with my beautiful puppy girl.


And then suddenly I’ll notice her take interest in a particular sand dune and I immediately tense up. “Dolan…no puppy, down here.” Now, the majority of the time she will look at me and head back down the dune to continue her obedient jaunt on the sand. But every once in a while she turns her head, looks right at me and I can see the calculation in her eyes.

The damn dog is smart enough to know that upsetting me is simply worth the occasional risk. It takes only a split second, but in that time I can see her weigh the options. Listen to Mommy and go about her business without incident – but miss out an interesting smell, some small animal to chase, a neighbour to greet. Or, say to hell with it and deal with the consequences after her moment of doggy freedom. I see all of this run through her mind before she darts off to have her fun.

In the past I would perhaps chased her, which only gives her permission to run farther. Yelled incessantly for her, which only hurts my throat. Shouted threats, which only makes me sound stupid and ineffective, or I would have sat and cried, which admittedly feels kinda good. I enjoy catharsis under any circumstance.

At this point in our lives together though we’ve reached a compromise. Determine for yourself who got the better of the bargain. Dolan picks her battles and I in turn pick mine. I let her chase her shadows and in turn she returns to me quickly and without causing much trouble. I call her right to me upon her return and she pretends to be sorry and that she won’t do it again. We continue our walk in peace. No more tears and empty threats. Happy dog, Happy human.

But a note to all prospective dog owners out there. Think twice before getting a Dolan-dog, unless your ego can handle a dog that’s smarter than the average human.

Spring

Here's one of the things I am noticing about myself this year - things I took for granted for most of my life I now find myself stopping and marveling over. This is especially evident given the time of the year. This spring, the re-awakening of my surroundings is offering me countless moments of wonder and excitement.

Some of this I believe has to do with early onset senility. Seriously, things that I know that I used to know were somehow ejected from my mental storage locker and now when I'm confronted with them in my daily comings and goings I'm amazed and awed.

I'm hoping this happens to everyone - right? right??

Having taken up gardening, the germination of seeds is a wonder to me. Everyday I examine my seedlings and feel pride in their growth. The budding trees send me running home to share the news with whoever will listen...mostly everyone seems to think I'm insane. But I'm used to it. It's ceased to bother me.

Whatever the reason for my return to simple amazement, I don't think I care. I'm just going to enjoy it while it lasts.

Potato and Herb Soup

So I decided to use our completely insane return to winter as an excuse to try out a new soup recipe.

Have I mentioned how much I love making soup? It's so simple, involves relatively minimal effort, at the same time leading to such delicious, hearty results.

Also, thanks to the general deliciousness, those who enjoy the end results tend to assume that the effort involved were far greater than they actually were. Once again, I love soup.

This soup I found in an Irish cookbook and adapted it a bit given my somewhat lacking inventory of fresh herbs and also just to make it my own. On that note, here it is, my recipe for what is my new favourite soup.

4 tbsp butter
1 large onion chopped
1 1/2 lbs. potatoes (4 large potatoes) *
1/4 tbsp fresh parsley
1/4 tbsp fresh chives
1/4 tbsp fresh thyme **
1/4 tbsp fresh marjoram
pinch dried oregano
pinch herbs de provence
s&p
3 1/2 cups chicken stock
1/2 cup cream

*Be sure to evenly chop your potatoes and onions. This is important so that they'll cook evenly.
**I had to use dried, I didn't enjoy it, but I did it anyways.



Melt your butter in a large pot. Add your diced onions and potatoes to the butter when the butter is foaming. Stir to coat your veg. Season with s&p. Cover the pot and sweat down the veg for about 10 minutes. Uncover and add your chopped and dried herbs. Add the stock and cook until the vegetables are soft. Puree the soup to a texture your happy with. You can certainly make the soup totally smooth, but I always like a soup with a bit of chunkiness to it. Add your cream at this point and you're ready to serve.

Enjoy!

A Little Heat for a cold "Spring" Day (Pasta with Roasted Pepper Sauce)

It seems appropriate to share a recipe that will warm you from the inside out on a miserable day in April, locked in the house by a snow storm. Mother Nature you are a cruel mistress!

Pasta with Roasted Pepper Sauce

3 red bell peppers
1 scotch bonnet (or other hot pepper of your choice)
1 cubanelle pepper (I like the cubanelle because it is slightly hot but is still a sweet pepper)
1 large onion diced
3 cloves garlic minced
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 cup heavy cream
1 or 2 tbsp toasted pine nuts (to your liking)
s&p
parmigiano reggiano cheese

First thing's first - roast your peppers. I do mine in the oven under the broiler. You can certainly do them on the grill as well. Rotate the peppers so that each side gets blackened and blistery.


Also get your pasta water on to boil. The sauce really doesn't take very long. As far as choice of noodle for this dish I like something along the lines of an orecchiette.

I like this because the pasta kind of acts like a little bowl for the thick sauce, so you get a lot of sauce with every bite. it's not always easy to find orecchiette, so just keep the shape in mind and go with something like it.

While you're peppers are roasting, toast your pine nuts. Just put them on a skillet on a low heat and keep a very close eye on them. They're sneaky little buggers and will burn quickly if not tossed often.

When they're ready put them in a sealable bag and let them steam themselves for about 10 minutes. This makes the next step - removal of the skin - much easier.

(p.s. even though the skins are easy to remove, this is still my least favourite part of the process - messy sticky)

While your peppers are steaming it's time to saute your onions and garlic in your olive oil. Saute them until they're translucent. Just get them nice and tender. Don't forget to season with s&p.

Remove all your skins as well as the seeds and membranes from the peppers. Much of the heat from the scotch bonnet comes from the membrane so keep that in mind when you're removing them.

Put all your peppers in a food processor and add your toasted pine nuts. Process them all up together. It only takes about 30 seconds. Then add the mixture to your garlic and onions in your pan. Be sure to season the mixture with s&p well. The peppers really need the balance of the salt.

Stir everything together and then add the cream. Heat the mixture until it's heated through evenly and toss with your pasta.

Serve it with your parmesan.

...out of orecchiette - Sea Bass gave his vote to rigatoni.