Saturday, November 30, 2013
Hot Turkey
Hotturkey sammie with gravy, all gluten free with bread that can take the heat! thank you Three Bakers Bakery!
Pie & Coffee
This is a wild world. We give nationwide thanks, while an employee opens the doors to one of the most horrendous retail stores in greeting, & gets trampled to death by the waiting, fenzied mob anxious to get a bargain on something new.
As I was about to eat my thanksgiving breakfast pumpkin pie off of a plate that is near sixty years old, and drink my coffee from a mug that's nearly forty I am thankful that I came up in a time and place where frugality was prized.
I cannot pinpoint in my personal timeline when the shift to such gorging started full swing. Creeping up as it did. One day we are watching Dickens' Scrooge and vowing to never go there again and next it's beyond Scrooge and all of those false compassion trappings... A million galaxies away. Watching the images and sympathizing with the people in lives created & driven by images has little apparently little application in flesh &blood life.
Friday, November 22, 2013
Beethoven's Third Symphony, November 22, 1963
It has gotten so I am no longer completely certain which memories are my own, and which are the ones that have been constructed for me over the years. However, I do still feel how horrific it all was, as a sensitive 4 year old it would have been nearly impossible to escape absorbing it all, on at least some level.
In this powerful slice of history, the announcement made by Erich Leinsdorf, and the collective gasp of the audience brought back that feeling of horror again.
The Funeral March from Beethoven's Third Symphony. The initial reaction to the news of a program change to the Third Symphony is interesting, yet another collective response, "Oh, no!" , which I would interpret as a plea to not go on.. Yet, go on they did.
How were the musicians able to play that beautiful, moving piece of music? The most passionate response as a musician to the supreme call to serve your country in its time of dire need is to play it strong and well; I suppose, to play it brilliant. To have been in that audience, to have a part in that slice of powerful history. In the presence of such stirring music, the body/bodies strung together through the sound; what a collective expression that must have been!
The radio microphones were present at a Boston Symphony Orchestra concert at an extraordinary moment in American history.
"On November 22, 1963, conductor Erich Leinsdorf was leading the regular Friday afternoon BSO concert at Symphony Hall. Before the program began, it had been reported across the nation that president John F. Kennedy had been shot by a sniper while riding in a motorcade in Dallas. It was known, too, that his injuries were serious, but that was all the information that was available."
"During the first half of the concert, what was feared became confirmed: Kennedy's wounds were fatal. Monitoring news reports backstage at Symphony Hall, orchestra officials determined to continue the concert, but with a change in the program. Librarians pulled orchestral parts to Beethoven's "Eroica" funeral march from the shelves and brought them down to the stage door. After learning of the tragedy himself backstage, Leinsdorf walked back onstage, relayed word to the audience, and led the BSO in a work in tribute to the nation's fallen leader."
more of the story from Bill Moyers
In this powerful slice of history, the announcement made by Erich Leinsdorf, and the collective gasp of the audience brought back that feeling of horror again.
The Funeral March from Beethoven's Third Symphony. The initial reaction to the news of a program change to the Third Symphony is interesting, yet another collective response, "Oh, no!" , which I would interpret as a plea to not go on.. Yet, go on they did.
How were the musicians able to play that beautiful, moving piece of music? The most passionate response as a musician to the supreme call to serve your country in its time of dire need is to play it strong and well; I suppose, to play it brilliant. To have been in that audience, to have a part in that slice of powerful history. In the presence of such stirring music, the body/bodies strung together through the sound; what a collective expression that must have been!
The radio microphones were present at a Boston Symphony Orchestra concert at an extraordinary moment in American history.
"On November 22, 1963, conductor Erich Leinsdorf was leading the regular Friday afternoon BSO concert at Symphony Hall. Before the program began, it had been reported across the nation that president John F. Kennedy had been shot by a sniper while riding in a motorcade in Dallas. It was known, too, that his injuries were serious, but that was all the information that was available."
"During the first half of the concert, what was feared became confirmed: Kennedy's wounds were fatal. Monitoring news reports backstage at Symphony Hall, orchestra officials determined to continue the concert, but with a change in the program. Librarians pulled orchestral parts to Beethoven's "Eroica" funeral march from the shelves and brought them down to the stage door. After learning of the tragedy himself backstage, Leinsdorf walked back onstage, relayed word to the audience, and led the BSO in a work in tribute to the nation's fallen leader."
more of the story from Bill Moyers
Monday, November 18, 2013
The wide angle lens
This morning's stunning, dramatic close encounter with what I now think was a sharp-shinned hawk has stayed with me all day. Two crows making a racket, the hawk out of my sight until it swooped past my parlor window, I saw the long tail that looked striped, and white belly underside, and it was smallish, so that's my best guess. Regardless, it's a wonder I was opening the curtains at just that exact time, or did the crows' racket draw me to the windows in the first place?
Once while walking along College Avenue in downtown happy valley at the start of a semester I was privy to a mesmerizing hawk encounter. On my way to a new English class outside of the Health and Human Development building a Red Tail dove in front of me and onto a smallish rabbit that was in a grassy space between the bushes and the building. As I walked around the bush, I could see the hawk working the rabbit, its sharp talons, beak being utilized in all the ways they are meant to be. I couldn't look away, and why should I? After what seemed a long time, but not long enough, this bird of prey drama a gift, I realized I was going to be late for this new, first class. I went inside and past the window where the hawk and rabbit were still embroiled. After another minute or so, the hawk, with the ragged rabbit in its talons, took off to somewhere out of my sight, and I moved on, breathless. Into the class, now 5 or so minutes late. The discussion turned to semantics and I could tell right off that this professor with a long history at PSU was going to be a bore. He would ask questions of students, and then cut into their answers with what he thought was wit and finesse. He did the same to me, I don't even remember the answer I gave, or the question. But as I sat there, listening, still vibrating from the energy of hawk and rabbit, it was clear this was not the class for me, and the hawk's dynamic appearance presaged a relationship that was not necessary for me to pursue. The mixed media sculpture class that I picked up instead was a delightful relationship, filled with many dynamic flights of fancy. (Yes, I really did use the term, flights of fancy, because I am corny and can't help myself sometimes.)
Another hawk with a something something, a dynamic and breathtaking experience. I am grateful for these majestic moments that take me out of the insanity that passes for reality, and smack dab into the center of the real world. Hawks and crows and rabbits, every time.
Once while walking along College Avenue in downtown happy valley at the start of a semester I was privy to a mesmerizing hawk encounter. On my way to a new English class outside of the Health and Human Development building a Red Tail dove in front of me and onto a smallish rabbit that was in a grassy space between the bushes and the building. As I walked around the bush, I could see the hawk working the rabbit, its sharp talons, beak being utilized in all the ways they are meant to be. I couldn't look away, and why should I? After what seemed a long time, but not long enough, this bird of prey drama a gift, I realized I was going to be late for this new, first class. I went inside and past the window where the hawk and rabbit were still embroiled. After another minute or so, the hawk, with the ragged rabbit in its talons, took off to somewhere out of my sight, and I moved on, breathless. Into the class, now 5 or so minutes late. The discussion turned to semantics and I could tell right off that this professor with a long history at PSU was going to be a bore. He would ask questions of students, and then cut into their answers with what he thought was wit and finesse. He did the same to me, I don't even remember the answer I gave, or the question. But as I sat there, listening, still vibrating from the energy of hawk and rabbit, it was clear this was not the class for me, and the hawk's dynamic appearance presaged a relationship that was not necessary for me to pursue. The mixed media sculpture class that I picked up instead was a delightful relationship, filled with many dynamic flights of fancy. (Yes, I really did use the term, flights of fancy, because I am corny and can't help myself sometimes.)
Another hawk with a something something, a dynamic and breathtaking experience. I am grateful for these majestic moments that take me out of the insanity that passes for reality, and smack dab into the center of the real world. Hawks and crows and rabbits, every time.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Roasted Parsnips aka Tastebud Lovers
Roasted parsnips are one of the best things on the planet. Roasted and then re-fried til carmelized and crispy parsnips are one of the best things in the universe.
A couple of nights ago I roasted four parsnips cut into chunks with two large-ish peeled russet potatoes, a bit of olive oil, a bay leaf and about a tablespoon of brown mustard seeds. In a enameled, cast iron, heavy- lidded roasting pan. 350 for a bit over an hour. That first meal the veggies accompanied a half chicken breast, sprinkled with a mixture of herbs and gluten-free bread crumbs, drizzled with olive oil, placed atop 3 cloves of thin sliced garlic, and roasted in a separate open pan alongside the vegetables. An excellent meal, if I must say so. :)
The leftover potatoes were good sliced, as a salad, mixed with a pre-made orange/poppyseed dressing and some thinly sliced celery. Also nice.
Today I fried those parsnips in a pan with some thickly sliced onion and a link of fully cooked Andouille, also cut into chunks. Over white rice. A simple pairing of sweet and hot. A little salt, and the onion slowly sauteed until it still had a little bite.
In my opinion, of all the supreme treats of autumn, its roasted vegetables are hands-down a favorite.
A couple of nights ago I roasted four parsnips cut into chunks with two large-ish peeled russet potatoes, a bit of olive oil, a bay leaf and about a tablespoon of brown mustard seeds. In a enameled, cast iron, heavy- lidded roasting pan. 350 for a bit over an hour. That first meal the veggies accompanied a half chicken breast, sprinkled with a mixture of herbs and gluten-free bread crumbs, drizzled with olive oil, placed atop 3 cloves of thin sliced garlic, and roasted in a separate open pan alongside the vegetables. An excellent meal, if I must say so. :)
The leftover potatoes were good sliced, as a salad, mixed with a pre-made orange/poppyseed dressing and some thinly sliced celery. Also nice.
Today I fried those parsnips in a pan with some thickly sliced onion and a link of fully cooked Andouille, also cut into chunks. Over white rice. A simple pairing of sweet and hot. A little salt, and the onion slowly sauteed until it still had a little bite.
In my opinion, of all the supreme treats of autumn, its roasted vegetables are hands-down a favorite.
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