Mellow Yellow

Steamed plantain with pan-fried tilapia made for a feast for me and made for special, hand-fed treats for my furry friends. To my surprise, this included our finicky kitty, who got the least contaminated (by my liberal use of turmeric and peppers) bits of fish. Tumeric turned the tilapia bright yellow, blending perfectly with the yellow of the plantain. There is something especially appealing about the color yellow in food for me. I love bananas and have to hide them out of my sight, or their cheerful yellowness will beckon to me. Canaries, golden yellow melons, hold a much stronger attraction for me than any of the other kind. There probably are deeper reasons to our attractions and our use of colors, even in food. Van Gogh's often interpreted use of yellow related to his physical and psychological health does come to mind. Whatever it may be, we enjoyed our monochromatic meal.

Small Pleasures

I treated myself to a small pot of mini-roses, the kind that over several years filled up a big ceramic pot that over-wintered outside our entry. Those roses would come back into bloom year after year in surprising and delightful patches of colors, but our pot got stolen exactly one month ago. So here is to new beginnings.

Usually, I treat myself to another orchid this time of year, but I got this one early in June and it has been doing great and I sure hope it too will come back year after year like most of my orchids did.

No, I am not enraged, the painted rock is what I found placed on a natural rock among others in the middle of the Santa Fe river last year. It's the closest I got toward anything associated with a natural body of water on our special day today. I like this rock and I like the idea of setting our especially most challenging feelings at Buddha's feet for contemplating. Eventually, the time will come to pass on this gem for someone else to do with as they please.

 A simply delicious spinach/feta quiche with a tossed salad was for lunch.

Equanimity

Snow at last! A very wet, heavy and messy snow.  I hope my pups bladders are strong and can wait for relief for a good while longer. Meanwhile, I will take out their home cooked favorite food (chicken innards with sweet potatoes) to mollify them. Living with three furry ones in one open studio is a challenge during and after snow and rain storms. My pups do know how to stay put and dry out on a towel at the ready for them on our return home. My little guy, Sumo, good at avoiding puddles will likely need a bath upon return home from our current mess. Ah, I do remember those times when fresh snow was exciting, when a wooden sled was near, and a lot of fun was to be had right across the field and up on the hill. 

These days I fail to feel the sense of equanimity my little laughing buddha so perfectly displays, but year after year his snow covered happy face delights and inspires me nonetheless. 

RAGE

I discovered this pretty painted pebble among several others

yesterday on top of a big rock in the middle of our river

along which I was walking my pups.

After admiring, then inspecting, weighing and holding each and every pebble,

I chose this particularly pleasingly round and rather surprisingly heavy one,

despite, or maybe because of the unpleasant feeling state it evokes.

Does rage go with age?

Seems like the older I get the more enraged I feel.

Trump's serial sexual abuse of women revealed only this afternoon, is only the very tip of the iceberg. "Trump's basket of deplorables" not having yet renounced their indecent, braggadocious, obnoxious, outrageous and terribly dangerous nominee, no doubt, sits right below that tip, and amidst all those that cried out for Pence to have won the VP debate, what a joke. No, what a shock that so much of mainstream media along with so many Americans will choose style over substance, in regard to politics, not hairstyles!

I am outraged!

So for now, I am holding my rage, weighing it, exploring it, looking at it and most importantly not prematurely dismissing, much less avoiding this rather challenging emotion. I have been tempted for this whole past year to rage against this narcissist emboldened to run for our highest office. I held back because "when they go low, we go high." I held back because the mere mention of the name seems to fuel this insanity. I held back in disbelief of what was unfolding. Giving rage it's rightful place is a challenge, I believe not just for me. Eventually, I hope to place this emotion too at the feet of the Buddha, at the feet of pure awareness, where this too shall pass, with a laugh.

Today's Walk With Sumo

Blessed with more snow and a sun that is breaking through, Buddha's cover will not last, it's time for our walk.

Sumo illegally off lead in our Railyard park.

Such a cutie our little Sumo-boy with his snow face as he blends in so nicely.

Sumo loves to sample snow.

Hm, where are those ground squirrels hiding now?

Humongous Green Coyote by Doug Kennel manages to look cute even while covered in snow.

Eric, now a grandfather, so hard at work at clearing access to his Railyard Performance Art Space, he did not even crack a smile for us.

Winter Market vendor not shy at all about having his picture taken.

Our colorful 'hood, love it.

Buddha uncovered by mid-afternoon and laughing, yeah!

Sitting In The Light

First Snow On Laughing Buddha With Roses

My Breakfast Table Today

Pancakes topped with yesterday's currants,

picked at our nearby public park

(no pesticides allowed!)

Goat butter may just be my discovery of the year, I love it!

It allows me to use my new cast iron pans on my new stove without burning 

or sticking, a dilemma I grappled with for the past 16 months. 

I can even flip the darn cake,

and I am left with a nice golden crust.

Goat butter does not stink of goat at all,

sorry, I am not a fan of goat cheese or milk,

no matter how healthy it may be for us.

I like it so much better then Ghee, or clarified butter, which does stink,

terribly, left out in a pan for a bit too long.

Goat butter works much better for me then olive- or sesame oil.

I learned ages ago to avoid heating olive oil, 

I do believe it is best used cold over salads and such.

I am experimenting with alternatives to the organic rice milk I have been using.

Coconut milk is what I added to my coffee and my pancakes today.

Dr. Weil has been on the fence on coconut butter 

in regard to heart and vascular health and so am I.

The taste is fine, but beware of the additives.

Almond milk does not taste great to me.

Produced mostly in California for us Americans at least,

it requires a lot of water in now a drought stricken state.

Not the most environment friendly choice anymore!

The lettuce shows up on my table because it needs to be potted

and yes, I do have a small bowl of compost on my breakfast table.

Luscious Low Light

Snow - Middle Of May!

A sudden snow storm surprised us in downtown Santa Fe on May 16th.

Spring Has Sprung

Happy New Year!

We live in a meritocratic society, where accomplishments are constantly being measured externally, 

where forms are always read from the outside, 

where comfort and lifestyle are often mistaken for success, or even happiness. 

Don’t be fooled.  

- Teresita Fernandez

Happy New Year!

 Hold on to your equanimity

- and your humor

with best of wishes to all,

and no exceptions.

In Dire Need of Equanimity

My world got blanketed in pure white first snow and looked just like this. 

Alas, I need all the equanimity I can muster to walk my pups on lead across icy grounds.

Dharmachakra Mudra

Dharmachakra in Sanskrit means 'Wheel of Dharma'. This mudra symbolizes one of the most important moments in the life of Buddha, the occasion when he preached to his companions the first sermon after his Enlightenment in the Deer Park at Sarnath. This event is often referred to as the setting into motion of the Wheel of the teaching of the Dharma.
In this mudra the thumb and index finger of both hands touch at their tips to form a circle. This circle represents the Wheel of Dharma, or in metaphysical terms, the union of method and wisdom.
The three remaining fingers of the two hands remain extended. These fingers are themselves rich in symbolic significance:
The three extended fingers of the right hand represent the three vehicles of the Buddha's teachings, namely:

• The middle finger represents the 'hearers' of the teachings
• The ring finger represents the 'solitary realizers'
• The Little finger represents the Mahayana or 'Great Vehicle'.

The three extended fingers of the left hand symbolize the Three Jewels of Buddhism, namely, the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha.
Significantly, in this mudra, the hands are held in front of the heart, symbolizing that these teachings are straight from the Buddha's heart.
This mudra is displayed by the first Dhyani Buddha Vairochana. Each of the Five Dhyani Buddhas is associated with a specific human delusion, and it is believed that they help mortal beings in overcoming them. Thus, Vairochana is believed to transform the delusion of ignorance into the wisdom of reality. By displaying the Dharmachakra mudra, he thus helps adepts in bringing about this transition

The Cultivation Of A Sense Of Abundance

6 a.m. I am having breakfast inside my cozy warm home, while temperatures dipped down low to two degrees outside. I had one pancake, topped with cranberry sauce of my own making (sweetened with tangerine juice and just a dash of cayenne pepper for heat) garnished with juicy, plump fresh blackberries, and accompanied by one cup of strong, sweet, espresso made to taste richer with a dash of nutmeg, ginger and a sip of vanilla. Food that nourished not only the body, but also the soul.

Meanwhile our occupiers spent the night out in tents, in frigid temperatures.

I am worried, but plan to make a pot of rice and lentils in curry for them. 

Update: The occupiers assured me they were o.k., cold, but not too bad. Worst seems to be crawling out of their warm sleeping bags and in to the cold. I did bring them a steaming hot pot of brown rice, mixed in with curried vegetables, but no lentils, did not realize I was out. Walked over there with pups on lead in one hand and metal basket with steaming pot in other hand. Promptly lost my felt hat and had to retrace my steps all the way back to camp again where my Sumo-boy spotted my beloved hat sitting, despite the gusty winds, right there on the trail, hooray! 

Burden Bearing Buddha

                                       - Still Smiles!

       Do you believe god gives us only as much to bear as we can handle?

Post Election Reflections

Last weeks election results have me baffled. Keeping my cool has been seriously compromised. What are the American people thinking? On election day I hunkered down outside my local polling station, curious what kinds of folks would show up. Few did, but one Hispanic guy was open to discuss his choices. Pissed at our Democratic Governor who had been embroiled in scandal, he blamed  Richardson for stealing his Mom's pension fund. So he was ready for change. He claimed to listen to Amy Goodman's Democracy Now, but he voted for a Republican Governor. So now we have Susanna Martinez, the first female Hispanic Governor ever and what does she do? Investigate already on how to reverse recent legislation in regard to the EPA (Environmental Protection Agency) as if the environment needed not more, but less protection! With big money from Texas ,her home state ,we are sure to see oil interests rise and pristine areas opened to invasive drilling, resisted up until now. 

A planned acquisition of land for an ambitious 4 prong project to rescue wild Mustangs, to rehabilitate and employ them for therapeutic gains for kids and vets and tourists will likely get nixed with the myopic state of minds of most Republicans. One elderly lady expects hunters to be given access to up till now protected environments. One would wish for more wisdom with females in leading positions, but I never believed peace to reign with females bickering (and this our two contenders for Governor did up to election day.)

One of my favorite cute young check-out guy at Trader Joe's grocery store admitted he did not bother to vote. I gave him hell. Well, not really, but I did impress on him the importance of doing so and he agreed he made a mistake. Have you talked to your check-out guy or gal lately, about things that matter? I highly recommend talking to those around us for real.

At the dog park on my twice daily outings I inquired about how others feel about the results and lo and behold there are a few there too that voted supposedly conservative. The First Lady's entourage was blamed, the expenses of the President's trips were mentioned, but not the expenses of Bush's war mongering? It took only one round around the park for one woman to consider she may have made a mistake with her vote for Republicans. Mind you we parted with hugs and the satisfaction of being able to voice our differing views and hear each other and find a surprising lot of common ground. Have you talked to your friends and neighbors yet lately? Again, I highly recommend it, we do need civilized discourse. Politics and money should no longer be off limits, they are too important.

Bush is hawking his book and so I got to watch him on Oprah. He mentioned that sinking feeling when he learned that there were no weapons of mass destruction and then continued that EVERYBODY believed Saddam had them. Nope, I did not, and neither did the investigators and he chose not to listen to them, but follow in the footsteps of unconfirmed ideations of his own. I blame him for not having taken the time, not having had the wisdom to wait out the results of an  almost complete investigation. before going to war. Inexcusable. Bush did not say he was sorry! Instead he claims a black entertainer's critique of racism hurt him the most! But objections to his actions from throughout the world, in the millions, ran down his bare back like water and left him unaffected? Bush says he is done with politics and it seems to confirm that his stints as Governor and President were likely geared towards pleasing his Dad. Gosh what an immature mind. Do the American people really have such a short memory?

to be continued ...

Ambivalence

Hours of work got in to the making of these three jars yesterday. Opening one jar does become a festive occasion with so much sweat equity. It reminds me of times past when jars filled with food were not commonly available on store shelves. A time I never experienced but only heard of.

In truth I cherished avoiding more pressing matters by placing my focus on the fruit bowl on hand, still filled mostly with loot off common grounds, here depicted with the occasional store bought Mango.

A Sunday afternoon seemed like a perfectly good time to attend to a pile of Apples and Crabapples and to mix another jar of Salsa Verde of my liking, which includes bits of Apples and Crabapples with one whole cluster of Garlic and one whole bunch of Cilantro and then some.

By the end of the afternoon I am left with mixed feelings. All this work for 3 jars only, while other important matters are left unattended? Yes, even these jars filled with goodness can leave me feeling ambivalent, not to talk about life in general.

Loot

The pears are ripe for the picking. I boiled them down with a few cloves, a bit of sugar and added arrowroot for thickening at the end. A whole pile made for 1 quart jar and a whole lot of work, but so worth it. Tastes not bad on plain frozen yogurt.

These Crabapples are finally ripe without a doubt. I picked them this morning and they came off easy. They are huge and taste especially good boiled down with 2 apples, the juice of 2 lemons, some raisins, and a bit of brown sugar. Delicious,  I can attest, still warm on top of frozen plain yogurt or piled on hot pancakes.

I hope to find some more at the nearby public park as I want to experiment with some sort of relish. Crabapples are great added to my kind of Salsa Verde, and also  ads taste to my vegetable soup, so I discovered.

Really I am not in the habit of picking up fruit from public spaces, even though it is legal. I never had a garden of my own and live an urban life style downtown.

Maybe sometime last year the absurdity occurred to me of buying fruit when the streets and parks were littered with the rotten kind. I really hate waste but love getting a great deal.

According to my sources the city has not sprayed pesticides in years, only occasionally some soap. And according to one city worker these apples, from the very same tree, are not dumped and discarded as expected, but are fed to his sow! Knowing that there is one thinking, self directed city worker makes me very happy.

Well, I gathered my share of the tree's free fall. While the apples taste not the best, cooked with a few added crabapples, the juice of 2 lemons, a bit of applecider for good measure, a sprinkle of cinnamon, and some vanilla, they make for a great topping on pancakes or wholesome flavor to plain yogurt.

Truth be told, I am not terribly domestic. But creating these jars of goodies feels very satisfying and kinda exciting. It's a lot of work that reminds of times past and makes me kinda feel rich.


My fridge now holds applesauce in bits and pieces with added vanilla,  applesauce blended with a dash of ginger, crabapple sauce, pear bits, salsa verde and in the mood I also made a huge pot of vegetable soup. The sprouting jar below holds wheat kernels for wheat grass which my furry friends adore and the big jar holds water infused with fresh peppermint tea - sun tea. How much greener can we get! Hooray for living a more and more sustainable, holistic life style!