the whole beet

i have been blessed with beets this summer, and it looks like this blessing will last into the fall. there are countless reasons to become enamoured with this vegetable. from the wonderful color that seeps out from severed root and stains your skin, to the wine colored veins of the leaves. then there's the indistinguishable flavors of the root, both earthy and sweet at the same time. and the surprisingly spicy undertones of the leaves... every way i have prepared them, from the complicated construction of perestroika to simply boiling the root and stir frying or steaming the greens, they have been utterly delectable. but the other night i prepared beets in a way that has topped all others (excluding borscht). rather than separating the root from the leaf, i tried cooking the entire plant. this works great if you have a handful of small beets. here's what you do:

wash well and remove any inedible parts, leaving them whole and keeping the skin and the leaves. using a heavy pan with a lid that fits securely, heat a couple tablespoons oil, juice from one lemon, some chopped onion, dash dill, dash tarragon, a little bit of garlic (a small clove chopped fine) and some salt. add whole beets and steam over medium heat with lid closed tightly. check after 5minutes, adding a little water if necessary to prevent burning. steam until tender (about 10-15 minutes depending on how many beets). hint: don't be tempted to peel the skin after cooking! trust me, it's edible, tastes good, and the only thing you'll achieve is dying the skin under your fingernails bright pink!

i ate these with homemade garlic mashed potatos, garden peas, kale stir fried in garlic & onion & braggs liquid aminos (you can also use tamari) and broccoli that was stir fried in a sesame orange sauce. it was a great combination of flavors, transforming my garden goods into gourmet fare. while each dish was tasty, the most simply prepared, the beets, left the most notable impression on my palette.

i got the idea from one of my favorite cookboks: Laurel's Kitchen. if the cool, rainy weather sticks around this weekend, i believe i'll try her recipe for whole beet borscht. sounds like a certain success!

Band of Brothers

With my company safely departed, Judy Branch seems quiet these days. Not silence, but the kind of quiet that allows frogs, crickets and distant trains to dominate the night air. The sort of quiet where you can actually hear the percussive beating of a moth's wings or an insect leap onto a broad, damp leaf. If you cut out the intermittent conversations between the Judy Branch pack and neighboring dogs, this place provides the perfect soundtrack for dreaming, reflection, and just being part of the quiet. Sometimes I sit inside and listen from my kitchen table, rocking chair or couch. Other times I contribute the creak of a porch swing, the brush-thumb of a banjo, or, like now, the muted click of a keyboard.

Tonight, I am soaking in the quiet after a turbulent day of withdrawal. For the past few days I have been 100% engaged in living life. I have opened myself to the hearts and minds of people I have come to deeply love, and I have basked in their friendship and affection. I have given myself completely to music and danced for hours without abandon on streets. These days spent in good company of the band (aforementioned house guests) provided me with an essential escape from the poisonous politics of my workplace. In hindsight, I realize that those crazy guys, who now feel like brothers to me, not only gifted me an escape, but reminded me how people should interact with each other every day they are alive. Traveling on the road together as much as they do, you would expect some seriously dysfunctional behavior. Yet they really seem to know how to treat each other and the people that they meet. The times they are stuck together are not only tolerable, but really good. Now that I am out of their fold, I am facing some of the nastiest forms of human interaction and manipulation by day. Even so, my doubt in the goodness of the human spirit is not so intense as it was before. Tonight I am soothed by the symphony on Judy Branch and the recent memories of fine times with friends.

I just wish that Judy Branch dogs Bingo, Monkey, Lucy, Sally and Frankie Mophead would stop it with the solo breaks already!

Strange Company

Six days ago, five house guests arrived at Judy Branch. Much of the heavy yard and house labor I threw myself into the days leading up to their arrival was in anticipation of their arrival. I knew that Judy Branch was plenty big enough to host five grown men, even if they were musicians, but I had no idea how easy they would make it on me! Since they were visiting from the West Coast, I prepared a bunch of good southern cooking for them, mostly from my garden: stewed okra & tomatos, green beans, homemade mac & cheese, black eyed peas, corn bread, bannana pudding. And a couple of more cosmopolitan snacks like coffee cake and my basil hummus.

During their time here they had a couple of gigs to play music, but during the days, I arranged home visits to some of the old time musicians who live nearby. I know my guests were really impressed by the musicians they met, and I was tickeled to see how much joy the old timers got out of swapping tunes with young musicians who appreciate their musical traditions.

It was one of the easiest hostessing experiences I've ever had, and then they turned round and decided to host me. I flew the coop with my guests after two days to accompany them on their journey south through Carter Family country. We stopped by the fold and the graveyard where Sarah, A.P., Janette and Joe are buried. Then I got to be their guest as they worked at the Rhythm and Roots Reunion down in Bristol.

As I am usually somewhat reclusive, I haven't been venturing out of Judy Branch to check out many of the nearby happenings. I really enjoyed spending some time in Bristol and hearing so many wonderful musicians. In fact, I will have to give big thanks to my house guests for getting me out on the town. I danced so much in the streets of Bristol that for the past two days I've been limping painfully with each step.

What strikes me the most is how I managed to spend five solid days and nights in the company of five men and not go insane. I enjoy the company of friends, but after a few hours, I am usually ready to retreat to the quiet of my home. I didn't once have a single urge to flee. That's a first for me. I am now soaking in the quiet of Judy Branch with rain thumping on tin roof. It is nice to be back home.

work... and work

i dedicated the entire weekend to intensive manual labor at judy branch. and i enjoyed every bit of it, from pulling up thorny pigweed in the garden to washing out the compost bins. there's something immensely satisfying about tending to the homeplace.

sometimes it seems like there's a riotous game of marbles going on in my head. ideas and counter-arguments to those ideas roll around and knock each other about in all sorts of directions until they all lay scattered in a mess or none remain at all. this can make those big life decisions very difficult. i remember growing up in church and the story of doubting thomas. boy, did i ever relate to that guy! fortunately, through many years of experinence and the help of some wise native american and buddhist friends, i have grown about 89% at ease with not knowing anything at all when it comes to those BIG questions. if i manage to remember that i am okay with just not knowing, i can keep my mind somewhat serene with only one or two major moments of panic and doubt (that would be the marble games) each day.

work in the garden and around the house provides me with an escape from the maddening marble games, the big unknowns and my life's other work. problem: there's a big section of johnny grass and pig weed invading my garden. solution: get my garden gloves on, get down on my knees and pull those suckers up by the root. then, when that task is done, great possiblilites lay at my feet. time to hoe that freshly uncovered dirt and plant fall crops! turnips, spinach, greens, mescalin mix, broccoli, kale, chard, carrots, cilantro and more beets! when i rise to my feet after planting and turn around, i see the fruits of my spring planting. the last of the beans (i hope!) need picking. the okra just keeps producing more tender fruit, and the tomatos are about to fall off the vine. basil is still big and bushy, and the dll needs to be used soon before it turns yellow. and those beets are just waiting patiently to become borscht!

there are only a few moments in my garden work that i feel down. sometimes when i'm pulling up weeds, especially if i have to pull up milkweed, i feel like i am no different than those greedy bastards who clear cut virgin timber and rainforests. i certainly must seem like a monster to all the slugs, mushrooms, wooly worms and caterpillars whose shade and food i uproot! mainly it's the milkweed that makes me feel this guilt. so, i make sure to let a good crop of milkweek border my garden, and i even pull up the morning glory vines that try to pull them down. in this way, i can at least be a somewhat sustainable garden forester through selective logging/weeding!

up in flames

sometimes i think that my empathy meter is defective. i feel far too intensely for others. feeling my own emotions is hard enough to handle, and boy do i feel those! but when i top them with feeling for my friends, i can either skyrocket into a blissful heaven or drill myself dizzy into the depths of despair.

i have been up and down about issues with my current vocation, a topic i strictly choose not to discuss here in this space. all i will say is that i am having to seriously reconsider my career choice, and for the first time in three years i find myself in a hallway full of doors of all shapes and sizes with absolutely no sense of direction. right now they all seem to be oddly shaped, mysterious and a bit spooky, but who knows what will happen when one opens? i sit befuddled in this hallway , driving myself dimwitted over the BIG questions of what do i really want for myself, my life, my love...

all this begins to spin in a spiral when one of my best girl friends calls to say she's splitting up with her husband. or when i go into work to learn that one of my favorite co-workers and friends here got his house burnt down... the fourth time this has happened to him in his life! with all these things happening to the people i love, my feelings of panic and depression over signing up for unemployment seem rather silly. but they don't go away. i just feel more helpless and hopeless!

thank the heavens that i have a place like judy branch for a retreat. i came home today and harvested okra. then i cooked up the most wonderful supper. i started by sautéing red onion, then adding chopped okra, garlic, chopped celery, chopped tomatos, black eyed peas (already cooked, but not mushy), some blanched green beans and a few bay leaves. I added a couple of spoonfuls of homemade salsa, some dried basil and cajun spices. i let it all saute on low while a pone of cornbread baked in the oven. it was light with a citrus-like tanginess from the fresh tomatos. much lighter than the cajun dishes i make in the winter (when i use canned, stewed tomatos).

there's nothing like fresh food to lift your spirits. i just wish i could use it to life my buddy's house out of the ashes.

unions

i celebrated a different sort of union this labor day weekend. twice.

two weddings. two couples who really seem to be a match for each other. four people who give me hope that a person can find a home in another's love. that we are not all alone in this world. and that this can happen when you're 60 or almost 30.

events over the past year have led me to find comfort in cynicism, especially when it comes to love and the human condition. couples i had thought to be the perfect match split up. i met someone with whom i feel a connection and attraction to like i've never felt before, but i'm beginning to believe that it is all just my imagination. i question my intuition and doubt whether anything i feel toward another person is actually reciprocal.

even if for a short while, this weekend gave me a glimmer of hope. i am hopeful for my newly betrothed friends. and after a weekend of dancing to cajun music with a few fine gentlemen, i am hopeful that i still have a few chances left at romance... or at least a few scandalous love affairs!

Labor Day

"Up, up mountain toilers and hear what I tell. In a land of plenty there's hunger and hell! We dig and we shovel. We weave and we sweat. But when comes the harvest, it's little we get... O this is the story of you and the rest. And if I'm lying, my name's not Don West ."

The "news" today isn't really news. Many of us have seen and felt it happening for years. Maybe even a lifetime. Minimum wage, benefits and workers' rights are at the lowest they have been in fifty years. The top echelons are seeing record profits, while the working people's wages are nowhere remotely alligned with the increased cost of living. What would old Don West be feeling if he were alive today? How is it that so little has changed in all these years? How is it that we end up back in that same old predicament? Won't we ever learn to not be complacent?

Where is my Don West today? Who is speaking out for our welfare?

"Your welfare ain't on the rich man's mind, oh no! You're welfare ain't on the rich man's mind."
I hope that Hazel Dickens' music will live on and remind people. I hope that they (and we all know who they are!) will never be able to keep us down for long.

I hope that I will find some hope on this labor day weekend....

Perestroika!

Last year I learned the value of wearing aprons. This year, I am gaining an appreciation for cooking by recipe. Cookbooks have been, for me, a good read and a source from which to garner inspiration, but not necessarily tools to cook with. I learned how to cook instinctually, throwing things together to form a meal, without refrence to a written word. With my ever increasing bounty of fresh garden veggies, I have turned to my cookbook collection for inspired solutions to my increasingly crowded pantry and refrigerator. Could there be a recipe that calls for a large quantities of dill, a few beets, beans, potatos, and carrots?

Why couldn't I think of this myself? Perestroika!

Never in my life have I seen a recipe that calls for as much dill as it does say beans or beets! I found it in The Native Foods Restaurant cookbook. The prep time is lengthy, and if you don't already have the ingredients on hand, it would be pricey to make. But damn, is it ever so tasty! Peretroika means "rebuilding the system," and I'm guessing it must be Russian. Here's the ingredients:

2 medium gold potatos (boiled, peeled & chopped), 3 medium beets (boiled, peeled, chopped), 2 medium carrots (chopped & blanched), 1 cup chopped fresh green beans (blanched), 1 cup fresh or frozen green peas (blanche if frozen), I cup chopped fresh dill, 1 cup Balsamic Vinaigrette (I'd hold back a little on this, maybe 1/2 cup), salt to taste. Just toss them all together in a bowl, garnish with fresh dill sprigs, chopped bell pepper. the book suggests garnishing with Quick Tofu Egg: (1 tsp sunflower oil, 4 oz tofu any style/texture crumbled, 2 pinches tumeric, dash salt: heat oil and saute ingredients until color is uniform)

As I continue to pick several pounds of beans a day, I will no doubt be turning to my cook books for solutions. Hopefully canning is a solution in the near future. Otherwise, does anybody need some beans... say 20 pounds or so?

feeding people

there's very little that can compare to the pleasure of sharing food with friends, especially when it is food you have sown, nurtured, harvested and prepared. tonight i had the rare pleasure of entertaining impromptu dinner guests. living as far off the beaten path as i do, i've grown accustomed to making plans for company several days in advance. tonight was a rare treat, with three friends arriving at my doorstep, serrendipitously at the same time as the sun was just starting to set.

i had invited each in passing conversation, because last night i made a large pot of the most amazing soup. i should insert here, for your reference, the pattern of my summer evenings: when i come home from work, i change into my garden bibs and tend to my garden tasks until there's not enough light left to work by. then i take what i have harvested into the kitchen and get to work on finding an immediate use for my bounty. sometimes i fix something quick, but as the quantity of my harvests has increased, i have gotten more ambitious. recent evenings (nights, really) have found me in my kitchen cooking up large entrees that spotlight my garden goods. this usually takes me to about 10pm. if i'm still on a kick, i'll work on preserving (freezing, drying, etc.) or researching recipes for my goods (right now it's beets, beans, basil, dill and okra). i end the whole night off with playing a few tunes on the banjo and then falling, exhausted into bed.

now, the amazing soup! i spent part of my sunday researching recipes that included okra or beets, and i discovererd a soup that i had to make on the spot: Cape Verde Vegetable Soup. since one of my dearest friends has recently moved to cape verde, i was especially drawn to the recipe. (Cape Verde is the western most point of the african continent. it's a volcanic island, and i know little about it aside from a box set of traditional music of cape verde that i used to own.) i am a big fan of vegetable soup made with fresh veggies, but i tend to make more of a thick stew with a heavy tomato base. this soup is very light, perfect for eating in warmer weather. i found the recipe in Sundays at Moosewood. I won't list it here, but the soup has cabbage, potato, okra, fresh tomato, onion, garlic, ground dried chiles, thyme, cilantro, and lemon. we had it with fried green tomatos and bruschetta topped with fresh basil, dill, tomato and feta. all the veggies were from my garden except the cabbage and the dried chiles.

i had planned to put my beets, beans, dill and potatos to use by making a batch of perestroika (russian salad) tonight, but given the time (nearly 1 am!), i think i'll quit with the boiled beets, and assemble the rest of the ingredients tomorrow! i will then update you on last week's visit by the russians, a whole bus load!

inspired rant: communication breakdowns...

recent happenings have gotten me to thinking about how complicated communication really is and how it seems that breakdowns in communication are often more commonplace than we'd like to think. there's so much interference and interpretation between what starts off as a thought in your head and ends up floating through sound waves, paper or cyberspace and into thoughts in somebody else's head.

i am finally home after, once more, going off and away for a week. this time i helped a friend drive a 15 foot moving van to jackson heights, a neighborhood in queens. this particular adventure would be one of the recenet happenings that reminded me of how complicated communication really is, even if you've known someone more than half your life!

this most recent adventure and several other instances in the past few weeks keep bringing my thoughts to rest on the whole communication conundrum. can you ever really know what someone else is trying to say? a recent encounter with a new and unexpected character in my life reminded me that, though it may be rare, you sometimes do run across another person who just seems to understand what you are trying to say and vice versa, even if you tend to speak in inspired rants! at the very moment of exchange, you both know for certain that the other person really gets what you are trying to communicate and that you get what s/he is trying to say as well. but as that moment falls more distant, and miles stretch out between you and said person, you begin to doubt if that "connection" was as real as you thought it was when it happened... who knows?

over the past few years i have come to appreciate, more and more, the saying: "To assume makes an ass out of you and me."

even if you never can really know if you are on the same page with another, i say we should all jump to attention and celebrate those wonderful, unexpected moments in life when your mind, soul and/or heart fuses with another's. on my recent adventure to the big city, i ended up finally connecting, in person, with a woman (my mom's childhood best friend) who i'd always felt as if i was dancing in some kind of strange orbit with. now, i feel that we are alligned, and i can't help but smile and feel my heart lift as i look forward to future encounters and communications with this now familiar, yet still mysterious and wonderful, lady.

the communication breakdown i've been noticing is not only with bi-peds and critters. oh no! apparently my okra did not get what i thought was a loud and clear message. when i was saying my garden goodbyes before this most recent trip, i reassured my unexpected okras that i would be home in less than a week, so please don't over exert yourselves by growing too quickly. can you guess what i came home to? monster okra!!!! i hate to waste any okra at all, because it is one of my all time favorite vegetables, and the key ingredient for so many great dishes. but when they get too big, they just aren't that edible! unless they happen to be red okra, which these are not.

no major damage though. i only had to give up five... sort of. they are still sitting on my kitchen table, because i haven't definitively decided not to eat them. i do wish my garden had consulted with me before jumping into major action, though. i am officially overwhelmed and over my head (literally) in beans, basil, beets, okra, dill and sunflowers. the rest is manageable. today i put away two gallons of beans in my freezer and found a creative way to get rid of some of my basil (how much pesto does a single girl need?). i made the most delicious hummus with ground flax seed and fresh basil:

*1 can garbonzo beans drained*, 1 tablespoon olive oil, 2 tablespoon tahini, 2-4 tablespoon ground flax seed (use a coffee grinder, they are best if you grind them just before you use them), 2-4 tablespoon lemon juice, 2+ garlic cloves, 1/4-1/2 cup fresh basil leaves (or to desired taste), 1 teaspoon Bragg's Liquid Aminos, 1 teaspoon tamari sauce

*save the water from the can o' beans to add to the mixture in case it needs more liquid

blend all ingredients in a food processor. add water from beans to make smooth. i tripled this recipe and froze a yogurt container's worth for a rainy day.

the funniest communication breakdown of my week: before departing judy branch in my friend's moving van (she drove up to judy branch and spend the night en route), i called neighbors bill and billy joe and left a message. i was trying to let them know that the moving van belonged to a friend that i was helping to move to nyc, i'd be back in a week, and please check in on my critters while i'm gone. when i got home, i found the critters well taken care of, but i also learned that billy joe had called both her daughters (one is my landlady, the other my neighbor) and informed them that i had moved to nyc! she nearly gave me a heart attack when she called to let me know a woman was coming to look at my house! it was only for an appraisal... nothing to do with the earlier miscommunication. (sigh!)

Hope

Hope is a funny thing.

Just when you are about to give up completely, a small, unexpected moment sneaks up, making you think twice about filling your pockets with stone and walking into the river.

My okra has appeared. It has blossomed and given fruit. How could I have ever lost hope in okra?

This past week I was at camp. It was one of those moments when the stars lined up to place a group of people in the same place at the same time far removed from everyone else, creating a space in time that can only be appreciated by those who were there.

I am so grateful that I was there. Just before Saturday a week ago, I was out of luck, love and money and damn near out of hope. My week at camp uncovered an unexpected wellspring of love and hope.

Even though I am heartsick and Ophie may never come home, I know that I am capable of giving myself to a bunch of amazing kids and helping them discover the beauty and music within themselves, each other and the world.

And hey, I've got okra in my garden afterall. There may still be hope for those eggplants...

i thought they were eggplants, but...

for the past couple of weeks i've been in portland, oregon visiting friends. thanks to the friends i was visiting, i have seen a glimpse of how city life can actually include many of the aspects i love about the rural life. for one, they have transformed their backyard into a real garden of eden. the back corner of the yard is guarded by the shade of an old apple tree, and they are workng on building a garden shed beneath it. they have a compost system that is much more organized than my big holey garbage can of worms. it's two open box-like compartments built out of plywood. much easier to turn, shovel or get a rake in! the actual garden consists of several raised beds. in those they had growing tomatos, peppers, herbs, flowers, eggplant, squash, beans, beets, garlic, potatos, lettuce and much more

back home on judy branch...
i think my garden waited for me to go away for a few days so that it could burst into action. both intentionally planted veggies and weeds grew about four times the size they were when i left them. my pole beans are now officially three feet taller than me and still growing. same goes for the corn. the pumpkin patch is looking just beautiful, as is the squash. and the real kicker? what i thought was eggplant all this time.... are tomatos!!! i'm not quite sure how to feel about this. i had been a bit depressed that my tomatos weren't coming up, but incredibly happy that my eggplants were doing so well. i had hoped to come home to find the first emergence of purple fruit. i did come home to find fruit emerging. they are, green, round and dimpled.

beyond the garden, i am trying to spend quality time with the critters to make up for my absence. ophie is still gone, but i haven't been able to let go of my hope she'll return.

beets and borrowed banjos

it seems like i get only a few days on judy branch before life (i.e. work) pulls me away again. this week it was a three-day working retreat with the ky arts council in the middle of central ky's farmland. evenings at home i'll often spend an hour or so playing banjo, but when i'm away from home, feeling a need to be alone, i'll sit and play for four to six hours easily. i taught myself some new tunes this week and played around on sawmill tuning, finally learning "red rocking chair." now if i could only figure out how to play it the way lily may did...

when i got home today i made a shrine to ophie and conducted a little ceremony with our family that i hope will send "come home ophie" signals into the universe. i lit a candle, sprinkled catnip over participating kitties and shrine, and fed all critters (cat and dog alike) a helping of tuna. to top it off, i placed a tuna offering for ophie in a bowl on the porch railing. i'm feeling pretty blue about her prolonged absence, but i'm still holding on to hope.

the best part of today came in the form of beets (i harvested three beautiful beets this evening!) and the promise of a banjo to borrow when i travel to portland. i was a bit worried about flying with my banjo, and now i can relax and plan on bringing an offering of beets for use of a west coast five-string.

The Battle of Morning Glory

For the past few days I have spent an average of five hours in my garden. All of that time has been dedicated to pulling up weeds and tracing the path of morning glory vines so I could pull them up at the root. How quickly that insidious vine invades! After five days of battle, I have successfully cleared my crops of that murderous vine. The beds that still need to be planted will have to wait, and I believe I'll just take the hoe to them. I must confess that I really do enjoy weeding and tending my garden. It slows down my pace of the day and allows me to take time to pull up each and every little unwanted root. I usually work in "the cool of the day," after the sun retreats behind one of the mountains and I can work in the shadow of the hills. If we've had rain, I can hear the creek trickling by. Then there's the sounds of birds and bull frogs, horses and cows and ever so often the distant sound of a not so distant coal train. It's so quiet out here that you can hear the rustle of leaves and grass as a bug lights out or a gentle breeze blows.

Toward dusk, a couple members of the Judy Branch dog pack decided that they were lap dogs. Frankie Mophead was the first to take advantage of my seated position. I didn't mind the company until Lucy, a little beagle, decided that she should also sit in my lap while I weeded. The result was a lively canine version of king of the hill. They both ended up losing when I decided it was time to stand up and call it quits for the day.

It's a motley family I've created for myself here on Judy Branch. Some of the critters I love can turn on others, and it is a difficult thing to reconcile. A few nights ago, the Judy Branch Pack sniffed out cat Ophie in the woods and chased her off onto the mountain. She's not come home yet, and I'm having a hard time dealing with the pack's constant presence on my porch. I can't help but hope that Ophie is in hiding somewhere deep in those woods, just waiting for a quiet, safe moment to come home, and that she won't do that as long as these dogs are headquartered on my porch. I also can't help thinking that she met her demise. I know that either way, it's just nature's way, and I'm trying to be at peace with it. I still hope and wish with all my heart that little Ophie will come home.

west virginia, by god!

from childhood into my early twenties, i would tell my folks that one day i'd settle down somewhere in the heart of west virginia. my reasoning: west virginia was the one state i knew that was entirely mountainous. i still love that country, and after spending a night in morgantown, i am also in love with its cities. although morgantown is a little more northern than i've ever been comfortable with, i was surprised to find how much i liked it.

at common ground, i was among a few other folks from wv and ky who were "ambassadors" from central appalachia. we spent a lot of time discussing and explaining mountaintop removal to concerned, conscientious folks. i spent one day of my film class showing films about coal sludge spills and floods. i was glad to share these stories with such a captive and caring audience, but i found it emotionally and even physically exhausting. i got so homesick, that even when showing these awful images of coal companies, those images nearly knocked me over with intense yearning to be back home. it's times like these jean ritchie lyrics swell inside me, like the l&n don't stop here anymore:

"Never thought I'd ever live to love that coal dust
Never thought I'd pray to hear those tipples roar"

the best thing i brought back from common ground was learning how to do the charleston from the amazing rhiannon giddens, who we all decided must be channelling an ancestor when she gets to doing that dance.

nearly half my drive home i was bouncing with the bow-legged charleston groove while i drove. my plans for this weekend (after working in the garden, of course) are to put on some old records and charleston myself dizzy on the kitchen dance floor.

Do I really sound like that?

I'm spending a week in Maryland, teaching at Common Ground. Here's a couple of things that really strike me when I'm far away from home:

* I can suddenly hear how my voice sounds when I speak.
* My accent seems to get deeper, and I fall into using a language that is out of place here, but transplants me back home as I speak.


What I'm wondering is:

* Do I really speak with a thicker accent when I'm out of my element and surrounded by people who do not speak like my homefolks OR is it that I'm more conscious of my way of speaking when I'm dropped into a group of people who don't speak the way I do?

Last night I called neigbor Billy Joe under the pretense of checking in on my furry house critters. Really, I was just calling to hear my neigbor's voice and chat for a little about the little things we always talk about: the weather, the animals, the garden, the work that needs doing and how nice it's been to see so many good friends this summer. After giving me an update on Bella's activities (she's been camping out with the Judy Branch pack the past couple of nights), Billy Joe figured the real reason behind my call:

I was feeling homesick for Judy Branch.

Blissful exhaustion

I am recovering from my favorite week of the year: Cowan Creek Mountain Music School, and it has left me delirious, exhausted and somewhat in pain. The pain is mostly from a banjo playing injury I incurred the very first square dance on Monday night. I think it must have been the banjo gods trying to wean me from using my left index finger too much.The blister continues to grow after that forty minute tune, six days ago.... and I have learned how to play with minimum use of said injured finger.

Each year Cowan Music School has become more and more akin to a family reunion. It is a small gathering that grows just a little each year. So many of the people who come to the school feel like cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents. I love the balance of children with adults and the nurturing spirit that seems to envelop us all. There's no competition to be the greatest musician or to play the fastest or the most like Art Stamper. Everyone is here to play, listen, learn and visit. It is the happiest I ever feel. The only bad part of the week is when it comes to an end.

Last week I learned that Judy Branch has secret healing powers. Early in the week I was suffering with a tension headache. I retreated to Judy Branch to recover, and I got an urge to work in my garden. The very moment I knelt on the ground and put my fingers in the soil, the headache lifted. I wonder if that magic soil would heal my banjo injury.... Perhaps I'll give it a try this evening.

13 Aprons

I returned from my Grandma's to Judy Branch with a bag full of aprons.

Yes, aprons. Nine aprons to be exact. Each handmade, and each with its own distinct character. I found them in Grandma's hallway closet, and I entertained her at the "hospital" with a fashion show that took her back in time. I chose old jewelry to go with each apron and arrived at the rehab center with all props in hand for a evening's worth of entertainment. (Granny's recovering from a fall that broke her arm, and that's one of the many reasons why I set out to visit her last week.) I modeled each apron, and she told me who they once belonged to and who most likely made them. On several occasions she had to closely inspect the stitch to see if it was left or right-handed. The aprons belonged to and were made by great aunts: Mammie (maker) and Ruth (wearer, whose figure was much like mine apparently), Great Grandmother McCandless (maker), Great Grandma or "Nanny," as I always called her and, of course, Grandma. Nanny embroidered her apron. Together we examined the stitchwork and design, the stains and the holes and recreated a history for each and every apron.

I learned that the women of Grandma's life always tried to give her aprons because they thought she should wear them. But she never would. Unless some of the aprons were hand-me-downs or used by others, I think she may be telling me a little fib. We won't dwell on details, though.

The aprons now belong to me, and for some reason that just makes me incredibly happy.

Just a few years ago, I discovered the great usefulness of aprons and had begun a small collection for myself (total: four). Now, with my inheritance, Judy Branch is well stocked with 13 aprons. What a great excuse to make a mess in the kitchen!

almost a portland winter...

but it's only a kentucky summer.

a few days ago i left a dry, hot judy branch on a journey to visit my grandma in nashville. i came home through potholes that had become ponds and roadside waterfalls that splashed down rock face onto pavement to become waterways. this was not the first time i attempted to wish myself into a tall pick-up truck on my drive home. even so, i found myself singing silly songs praising rain and pup bella as she soaked herself in the downpour out the side window, tail wagging, as i slowly inched my way through thickly slicked roads, closer and closer home.

i love visiting my grandma. but from the moment i arrived in nashville, i became intensely homesick for the pace and space of life that judy branch provides. i can handle the city traffic just fine, and i am able to enjoy what a city has to offer. i just don't ever wish that kind of environment for myself. it's a shame that so many of the cities in this nation are exclusively car-centric and so consumer driven. it makes no sense to me at all.

i am far from all that now with all the joys that judy branch has to offer on a saturday night: the sounds of steady rain fall mixed with my favorite community radio station WMMT, four loving housemates (all fuzzy and shedding like crazy), fresh veggies to cook for supper and no plans for tomorrow other than to get ready for my favorite week of the entire year... cowan creek mountain music school!

Explaining Okra...

I have a few friends who live across the pond. I'm not talking about neighbors Bill & Billy Joe who do happen to live on the other side of the Judy Branch fish pond. I mean that big Atlantic Ocean pond! After reading my blog, a friend from across the pond had a few questions. It made me realize that even in our increasingly homogenized, globalized world, we each have our own realities and our own language for describing them. Here's what needs clarification:

So what are :- Mojitos (you ate them in miami), what is okra (and what do you do with it).
And is there a burger place & pub nearby?

Mojitos are a tasty carribean drink (common in Cuba and Haiti and surely other places) made with a large amount of fresh crushed mint leaves. It is a cousin of the Brazilian cocktail, Caipirinha. A mojito is traditionally made of five ingredients: mint, rum, powdered sugar, lime juice, and club soda. I sipped on one of these with friends in Miami while eating at a Haitian restaurant located in the heart of one of Miami's Haitian neigborhoods. Being someone who is more of a beer or wine person, I was surprised how yummy and refreshing the mojito was, and I'm determined to learn how to make it once I grow a good crop of fresh mint!

Ah, Okra.... It'a a staple garden food of southeastern US, and an especially popular ingredient in southern, cajun, creole and soul food cuisines. Also common in African and Indian cuisine. Okra is actually originally from Africa. The plant grows to be almost as tall as a corn stalk and produces a beautiful flower from which a long fruit emerges (which is the part you eat). Last year I grew both green and red okra. Some people really despise okra because when cooked the interior of the vegetable has a slimy texture. I love okra in a variety of forms. Cut into bits, deep fried and breaded, it makes for a great salty snack that I have often thought should be available at movie theaters like popcorn. Cut up and stewed in a gumbo or just by itself with tomatoes and herbs, okra makes for a really savory addition to any meal. In my family, okra is the key ingredient to making a perfect vegetable soup. As you simmer your soup, you gently press the okra pieces against the side of the pot, thus creating the perfect consistancy for your broth. More can be discovered about okra at target="_blank"Wikipedia

Although it would be most interesting to visit a pub located in this neighborhood, I'm afraid to say that there is no pub (nor a burger place) anywhere near Judy Branch. You must drive at least 30 minutes to arrive at a place that serves any sort of food, and even further to find yourself in a place you can obtain an alcoholic beverage. Judy Branch is located in a "dry" county, a concept that is nearly impossible to explain to our friends across the Atlantic. What it means is that no alcohol can be legally bought or sold within the county limits. It makes for a thriving blackmarket of bootleg beer, hooch and moonshine, and there are folks who make a good living at these arts around here. And that's one of the reasons our county hasn't been able to pass a referendum to allow alcohol to be sold!

The U.S. has never had a the sort of thriving pub culture of Scotland and Ireland. We have bars, the majority of which are not worth the visit. In Kentucky, we have honky tonks. Now these are worth an occasional visit, but you have to have your wits about you. There's an entire culture built up around honky tonking, and regulars at these joints are very serious about their night life! Loud country music and bar fights are an essential element to most of these places, and if you're not a regular, you stick out like a sore thumb. Not the kind of place you go for a drink and a mellow chat with friends. Hazard and Pikeville are the two nearest towns where you can go out honky tonking. They are each about an hour's drive away. I'm more of a quiet type, so I don't go out to the honky tonks but once a year or so, and it's usually with much encouraging from a big group of friends.

Here's my neighborhood pub: I dust off the Guinness poster on my living room wall and invite friends to come out to Judy Branch for an evening or a weekend of playing music, telling stories and sipping on a few beers. If it's winter, we sit around the fire place. In warmer weather, we sit around a fire pit in the yard or on the porch. Judy Branch serves so many purposes in my life, and depending on the company, it's as close to a pub as you'll get in this part of the world, smoking ban and all!