Tulip 3

For Cee’s FOTD.

I pay for a whole 9 months of CSA, community supported agriculture, from Red Dog Farm. Early in the season my box has vegetables and tulips! I love the tulips, they are gorgeous.

I have been in a CSA for most of the last 22 years. People say, but you do not pick what you get. I say, I know, but I hate throwing food out so I end up eating MORE vegetables then if I bought them.

Red Dog Farm: https://reddogfarm.net/.

X is for X-Acto knife

I am blogging A to Z about artists, particularly women artists and mostly about my mother, Helen Burling Ottaway.

My mother disliked cutting mats more than almost anything except vacuuming and cutting glass. In the late 1980s and early 1990s my grandmother lived two doors down in Alexandria, Virginia. My mother took over part of the basement for matting, glass cutting and framing. Times right before shows included complaints about cutting mats and glass, her saying that she didn’t have enough things framed (though she always did) and at least one piece of glass broke. The X-Acto knife was the tool for mat cutting at that time. My mother usually cut herself at least once for each show. She was particularly annoyed if she bled on the freshly cut mat or the painting or etching.

Hanging the show involves a lot of time out words as well, but she would get excited once it was hung. Then it was time for dress up. Shows were a command performance: my sister and I were to go as well. We dressed up and talked to people politely and ate the strawberries when my mother was not looking. The opening of the show would include food and usually wine. In small glasses. And no, we weren’t allowed to have any. We had to look at the art and be polite to adults.

The photograph today is another of my poems with my mother’s etching. And look, she has avoided cutting a mat. She bought special frames, with two slots. One holds the glass. The second holds the mat with the mounted etching. If the glass rests on the etching, it can ruin it. She mounted all of our ten prints and poems this way. Clever artist and they look wonderful.

ATOZBLOGGINGCHALLENGE2022 #art #Women artists #Helen Burling Ottaway #ATOZCHALLENGE #Christine Robbins Ottaway #APRILATOZ

For more information about the #AtoZChallenge, check out this link.

I am a poet

I am a poet and the world is my oyster. I eat it daily. I take my knife, dull but strong, insert it twisting into the shell, and pry the world open. I admire the glistening juicy living contents. A splash of lemon or pepper, I cut it from the shell, tilt the shell to my open mouth. This living glistening world slides into my mouth and I taste it’s salty goodness, it’s raw oysterness, roll it around my tongue and teeth, bite and chew it, and swallow this delicious world. And eye the plate, choosing my next victim.

obfuscate

“Mom, the chicken tastes funny, but good.”

“Shuddup and eat.”

“Mom, the salty stuff on the chicken is the BEST!”

“Move over, I’m eating yours if you don’t want it!”

“Mom!”

“That kind of chicken is called a potato, dears.”

“Yum, mom, more.”

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: obfuscate.

Recipe: Corned Beef

My mother gave my sister and I small notebooks decorated with our names when I was starting high school. She said that we were each going to cook once a week. We were to tell her what we wanted to make. She would give us the recipe and we would put it in our notebook. She would buy the ingredients and we would each cook.

It ended up being every other week so that we alternated, but I still have the notebook. My mother died in 2000 of ovarian cancer. I miss her. The first recipe I chose was corned beef and cabbage.

Katy B.’s fruit torte

Katherine White Burling was my maternal grandmother, and this recipe is attributed to her. I still have the small three ring binder that my mother gave me when I was in high school, explaining that my sister and I had to do some of the cooking. We told her what we wanted to make and she would write the recipe in our book and help us. I wrote this recipe out in the 1970s.

preheat the oven to 350 F

cream: 1 C sugar
1/2 C butter

while the butter is softening enough to cream, cut up fruit: apples, pears, peaches, rhubarb, or use berries…

Add to the creamed butter:
1 C flour
1 tsp baking powder
salt
2 eggs

Spread in in a buttered, floured pan. Cover with chopped fruit: apples, pears, peaches. This one was local plums and blueberries.

Sprinkle with sugar and lemon juice
Dot with butter on top.
Bake for 30-40 minutes, depending on your oven.
Cook until browned a little in the part that rises around the fruit, and when a toothpick comes out clean.

I am submitting this to today’s Ragtag Daily Prompt: Kaleidoscope, because the torte reminds me of a kaleidoscope.

still life

From the beach yesterday morning. I say still life, but there could be mites in the feather and the plants are still alive and no doubt there are lots of microscopic plants and animals in this picture. I am wondering how it is really possible to be vegan with bacteria around. Do they not count?

Do corals have venation? The feather does.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: venation.

He just left his body

This is about memory loss.

One of my patients eventually had to have her husband admitted to memory care. He was falling, he was angry, he outweighed her by 50 pounds and he was incontinent. When he fell, she could not get him up.

She went to our hospital Grief Group and came to see me, angry.

“They said he’s still alive!” she snarls. “I got mad and said, no, my husband is gone! He just left his body!”

“I’m so sorry.” I say. “I am sorry that they don’t understand.”

“I’m selling his stuff.” she says. “I don’t have any use for Ham Radio equipment. And HE doesn’t EITHER, now.”

She stomps out. I am sure she cried too.

That is how I think of Alzheimer’s. Neurons burning out from the present to the past. When the person can no longer talk, they are close. Then they are in the womb and stop eating.

Let them go, let them go, god bless them. Where ever they may be. You may search the wide world over but your memory person is free….

empower

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: empower.

J and I did not pick these mushrooms. We only picked two kinds, that we were both sure were edible. We must have seen about 15 species or more… I feel empowered to collect mushrooms and eat those we are sure of, but I am going to be very very cautious about others.

And I have had people say that they would never eat a mushroom that someone collected. I know some of the mushroom collectors that sell to our food coop and I trust them. Do we trust things in stores more than our wilderness now? And yet some things in stores are not safe….