cobbler

~ onehopefulyear ~ 2 Comments

I love the whole idea of a cobbler. It’s a work-with-what-you’ve-got kind of baking. To cobble means to put together roughly or hastily. And that’s exactly the kind of time I have for baking. It’s a hurry up sort of season. Gather the last of the harvest. Enjoy the very last of summer’s bounty.

Baking. One of my very favorite ways to create. The warmth of the kitchen. The delight in mixing the ordinary to become extraordinary. The anticipation of opening the oven. The certain happiness which comes from leveling a cup of flour. And now … cobbling!

Here’s to the last of the peaches!

Basic Fruit Cobbler

from the King Arthur Flour Baker’s Companion

Any fruit you bake in a pie, you can add to a cobbler. Peaches, in this case, but apples, pears, cherries, and berries of all kinds work.

  • 1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 2 large eggs
  • 1 1/2 cups sugar
  • 2 tablespoons butter, softened
  • 2 tablespoons milk
  • 1/2 cup sherry, brandy, or bourbon*
  • 3 to 4 cups fresh fruit (large fruits sliced, berries left whole)
  • whipped cream or ice cream

*If you’d rather not use liquor, increase the milk in the recipe to 1/4 cup and use a mixture of 1 tablespoon lemon juice, 1 teaspoon vanilla extract, and 1/4 cup of water in place of the liquor. (This is the option I chose and it was delightful!)

Preheat the oven to 375F. Grease a 9 x 9-inch square pan (or similar casserole dish) or an 11-inch round quiche dish.

Mix the flour, baking powder, and salt and set aside. Beat together the eggs and 1 cup of the sugar. Add butter and milk. Add the flour mixture, stirring just to combine. Pour the batter into the greased pan.

In a medium-sized saucepan, simmer together the sherry (or the mixture noted above) and the remaining 1/2 cup of sugar for 3 to 4 minutes. Add the fruit and stir to coat with the syrup. Pour this hot fruit mixture over the batter in the pan.

Bake for 30 minutes. Serve warm with whipped cream or ice cream.

a friday kind of calm

~ onehopefulyear ~ 2 Comments

I spent about an hour early this morning chopping vegetables for salsa. It was peaceful there in the kitchen, quiet all around but for the brief moments of knife to wood. I stood there chopping amidst remnants of last night’s dinner, a sinkful of dirties, piles of mail, and a counter collection of life’s daily detritus. So the environment itself was anything but serene, and on any other day, I probably would’ve felt rattled by the magnitude I almost always make it to be.

But not today.

Today I woke feeling calm. Confident. Capable. Ready for those dishes and that job and even an unexpected plot twist or two. Maybe overwhelm has no room to take root on a Friday. Maybe my inside knows my outside survived Monday through Thursday, proof Friday is certainly do-able. Maybe there’s a Friday kind of calm.

I’m all for feeling it. And wish it for you as well.

loving lately

~ onehopefulyear ~ 5 Comments

warm days and cool nights * avocado toast with fresh-from-the-garden tomatoes * monarch butterfly sightings * our tiny, but tall, sunflower patch * porch time * a return to routine * meal prepping vegetables for the week * ripening tomatoes on the windowsill * this dough hook * this app (for a secure connection to one I love so far away) * jigsaw puzzles * lemon ice water * kitchen dancing * fall baking (more on that another day) * football season * curtain- billowing breezes * 43 new students * this (clean) hair styling treatment * end of season sales (for back-to-school-shopping) * mums on the stoop * goal setting * evening walks * hot, buttered popcorn * zinnias * Spotify * five o’clock bird play * red tips on maple leaves * friends and fire pits * four day weekends * this granola recipe * Community Share Agriculture * peach juice dripping down my chin * watercolor painting *

walking with the one I love

~ onehopefulyear ~ 2 Comments

Went out walking with my best friend this afternoon. Step by step and side by side a few tenths less than three miles around and about the neighborhood after school. Warmed by the late afternoon sun. Talking. Kicking acorns and hickory nuts down the road. Laughing. Each telling the other a story or two from the day. Or pleasantly silent. Sometimes hand-holding. Always loving.

I don’t know what it is about fall afternoon walks, but it’s become a habit for us over the past several years. And it’s so simple. So easy. Grab a pair of walking shoes and go.

Up and down hills, past fields and fences, alongside a stream or two. Out there, we’re walking right out of summer into fall. The landscape’s changing. The air feels and smells different. The sun’s giving way to a bit of a chill. There’s apples on trees and a few leaves coloring. Every sense tells me: Fall’s coming.

Life out there on the road is uncomplicated and the breathing is easier. A gentle way to end whatever kind of day came before. Maybe plan the weekend. Ask a few questions. Remember some whens. Share the road, ideas, and uninterrupted time.

It’s hard to tell if we walk to hang on or if we’re learning to let go, out of one season and into the next. Or maybe we want a roadside view to each and every change, gathering a few more memories to store away before the snow flies. Side by each. Walking with the one I love.

do or dream

~ onehopefulyear ~ 4 Comments

A few minutes shy of six this morning, I left the early Sunday comfort of home to greet the sunrise. I must’ve looked a character in gym shorts, my husband’s oversized t-shirt, plum-colored windbreaker, and tall, black rubber boots. I cared not. Clutching my keys and my camera, my new tripod, my wallet, and glasses, I left a quick note for my still-sleeping husband. My heart was as full as my hands and off I went.

For me, there’s such a dichotomy between dreaming and doing. I’ve oodles of dreams and years’ worth of intentions. What I don’t have – often – is the daring to do. Or the time. Or the energy. Or the opportunity. Whether one or all of the above, the point is dreams remain dormant until and when I decide to do, to act, to move, to create, to dare.

Dreaming isn’t doing, and many days, all I do … is dream.

But back to the sunrise and me in all my sartorial glory. And while I didn’t much care what I looked like to whomsoever passed me by at 5:59 this morning, I felt a bit vulnerable out there in the wide, open world of what if. Vulnerability or not. I did it anyway.

I’ve often imagined a dawn cresting over the farm down the road. Imagined the sky. Purpling and pinking. Imagined the solitary trees shadowed against the brightening sky. I imagined the horses off in the distance, the greening slope of the hill, and the brown barn. Imagined myself right there, experiencing it all. Photographing it all. I’ve dreamed it. And today … done it.

No matter I chose the wrong camera lens. No matter I couldn’t quite find the angle I wanted. No matter the car idling and blinking roadside (or my anxiety about leaving it there as I wandered away with my camera.) No matter the on-the-fly tripod learning curve. No matter my appearance or as yet unbrushed teeth. No matter my vulnerability. What mattered most was me. Out and about in my little town, chasing a dream and the sunrise.

Doing.

present participles

~ onehopefulyear ~ 4 Comments

recent present participle verbs at home, work, and play

  • paddling
  • walking
  • Vermonting
  • (weight) lifting
  • eating (more intentionally)
  • meditating
  • granddaughtering
  • baking
  • puttering
  • writing
  • paring (down our possessions)
  • meeting
  • (re) connecting
  • painting
  • assembling
  • organizing
  • planning
  • cleaning
  • thinking
  • imagining
  • (jigsaw) puzzling
  • playing (cribbage)
  • worry beading
  • praying
  • hoping
  • thriving

And what are you up to?

more and less

~ onehopefulyear ~ 2 Comments
  • more sunrise – less sleep in
  • more listen – less talk
  • more focus – less multi-task
  • more self-acceptance – less self-criticism
  • more books – less phone
  • more proactive – less reactive
  • more water – less coffee
  • more outside – less inside
  • more open windows – less air conditioning
  • more walk – less sit
  • more appreciate – less complain
  • more do – less someday when
  • more hope – less anxiety
  • more prayer – less worry

postcard: star island

~ onehopefulyear ~ 2 Comments

I am all about the feel of a place. The energy. Or whatever I call the spiritual song and dance of souls or faded footsteps of those who came before me. I know there’s a pull to this shore like the breath of the tide in and out. If not quite a sense of homecoming, there’s for certain a feeling of belonging. Of welcome. You can feel Star Island greet you before your boat even docks.

Being on Star Island just plain feels good.

Known collectively as the Isles of Shoals, Star Island and its neighbors form an archipelago of nine islands scattered along the New Hampshire and Maine border in the Atlantic’s Gulf of Maine. While not the largest, 43-acre Star Island is likely the busiest with a full summer schedule of conferences, workshops, and retreats to enjoy for long-term visitors as well as day-trippers like me out to escape life’s present tense for an hour or two in the past.

There’s the beauty of the island, of course, with its simple, white-washed buildings gazing out beyond the rocky shoreline in contrast to the deep blue of the sky and sea. There’s the history. The Oceanic Hotel. Explorer John Smith. The Gosport fishing village. Shoals poet and writer Celia Thaxter. There’s legend. Lore. Mystery. Celebration. And endless inspiration.

There’s even ritual. At each day’s end, a procession of candle-bearing guests walk the path to the Stone Chapel for evening services where no doubt blessings are counted like stars in the deepening darkness of the sky. In a farewell ritual, folks gather at the dock to send off those departing the island and rhythmically remind: “You will come back! You will come back!” In reply, a promise from the boat’s topside: “I will come back! I will come back!”

For all its social activity, there’s solitude too. Waves to contemplate. Rocks to climb. Kites to fly. Flocks of birds to watch. There’s a sense that you’re standing still with time. On solid ground. Breathing easily and deeply.

There’s peace to be found out there on Star Island. And a certain serenity. Only six miles out to sea and an hour-long boat ride away.

My promise: I will come back.

living like I mean it

~ onehopefulyear ~ 4 Comments

I’m sitting smack dab in the middle of my comfort zone: summer.

I’m living like I mean it. I’m a shell gatherer. A flower picker. A storm cloud watcher. I’m a bird listener. A porch sitter. Healthier. Happier. Whole.

Around the house, I putter at this and dabble at that. No pressure. Not many have-tos. I make my bed every morning and tumble back into it at night, satisfied. My blood pressure’s down, and my hope’s up. And yes, I have sorrows. But blessings too. So many blessings.

 I thrive in summer. All steam heat and sultry days. Plenty of time and lots of the very best things to eat, see, and experience. In essence, I’m living all summer has to offer.  Just picked fruits and vegetables. Digging my feet in the sand. Estimating the time I have on the hard sand before the tide rises. Endless and awe-filled gazing at our grand daughter.

All the important stuff.

Ive read this book

and this one

and this guide has helped me create more simple and healthier options into our cleaning caddy.

I’m paging through this new cookbook

and so thrilled to be spending more time experimenting with this one.

Feel good about using this sunscreen every day and loving the fresh, summery scent of these lemongrass essential oils  in our laundry.  These reusable produce bags are my new favorite shopping habit.

Cannot wait to try my new tripod (thanks to a couple of Christmas gift cards, a bit of extra time for a road trip here, and a really good deal.) Maybe one of these is in my future?

Yep. It’s summer. And I’m living like I mean it. 

Headed here for the day!

Postcard to follow!

 

it’s a great day

~ onehopefulyear ~ 4 Comments

It’s a great day.

A day for coulds. Maybe I cans. And why nots.

A day to experiment or go for the sure thing. Maybe try a first-time recipe or mix up something tried and true. Measure or estimate. Who cares? Why worry? Stack the dishes and let them air dry. Give the whole kitchen a lick and promise because tomorrow’s gonna be a great day too.

It’s a day for curiosity. Maybe I’ll open a new book or page through an old one. It’s a day to live astonished. Or curious. Delighted. Or Daring. It’s a day for supposing. For wonder. A day to ask a question and then find an answer. To take a chance. Stand up. Speak out. Share.

Today’s a great day.

It’s a day for movement. For walking. Climbing. Biking. Waving. Smiling. Swimming. Dancing. Singing. A day for leaping before looking. For whistling. And blowing bubbles.

It’s a great day. A day for wishing on dandelions and stars and birthday candles. A day for hoping against hope. For dreaming. And today’s a day for giving. My time. Attention. Eye-contact. Forgiveness. An invitation. A compliment. Some just-baked cookies. A donation. My thanks.

Today’s a great day to listen. Birds and breezes. Kids in the pool. Conversations in the car. The solid th-wack of a satisfying backhand.

It’s a day for work. I write. Plan. Clean. Think.

Or why not rest? Read. Rock. Day-dream. Breathe.

Today’s a beautiful day for beginnings. For beauty. For kindness. It’s a fine day for chasing rainbows and believing in miracles.

Today’s a great day.

Let’s live it.