Baked Onions With Pecans

Sally Fallon is an extremely talented female chef. I've been cooking from her classic Nourishing Traditions for about 2 years now, and this recipe is one of my favorites from it.

Baked Onions With Pecans
(adapted)
Serves 8

4 large onions
garlic (optional)
1 cup veggie stock
3 tablespoons butter*
1 tablespoon honey
1 teaspoon lemon juice*
1/4 teaspoon paprika
sea salt*
1/2 cup chopped pecans
*make sure you do not use too much butter, lemon juice, or salt, or else it will soak into the onions (and garlic), creating a terribly unpleasant and unpalatable, strong off-flavor

Peel onions, and slice along the equator. I like to give them another vertical slice, just so they end up as bite-size pieces. Lay them along a baking tray with their sides up. I choose to add halved garlic cloves as well. Mix stock, melted butter, honey, lemon juice, and paprika. Salt to taste. Again, make sure that the mixture is very light and subtle. Strong flavors will become even stronger when the mixture soaks into the baking onions! Pour over onions, and bake them for about an hour at 350 degrees, until onions are just tender. Sprinkle with pecans, and bake for another 10-15 minutes.

Bon Appetit!

Daffodil Haiku

A Perennial,
Daffodils Are Everywhere.
Stop In Tracks To Smell.

(Photo Copyright CRK.)

Transmogrifier

I, like Calvin, own a transmogrifier!



This was a box that my housemate's mattress came in, and man, was it funny to see how excited a group of 20-year-olds can get about playing with such things.





We all remember Calvin's clone/transformation machine.
(For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about or never read Calvin and Hobbes, don't be offended, but how did you get through childhood?)

Fame By Association

Tea Leaf Green, a talented jam band, came to my city last weekend.
They played at the Pearl St. Night Club, and I was able to make my way up to the front row. The last song they played was the song I was waiting for them to play the entire time, my favorite, "The Garden (Part III)". As I was singing along to the words and dancing, the beautiful Trevor Garrod, keyboardist and vocalist, looked right at me and smiled during the moment of, "got a little bit a soul, got a little bit a rock n' roll in my bones..."

It was epic.

That familiar voice, from all the years of listening to it, singing right back to me as we flirted.
It was definitely one of those celebrity moments, where the audience and stage become one.



Tea Leaf Green on MySpace

"The Garden (Part III)" on Taught To Be Proud, by Tea Leaf Green

Got a little bit a soul,
Got a little bit a rock n' roll in my bones,
Don't you bury me when I'm old,
I may need 'em when I'm reborn,
When I'm reborn.

The garden that you planted is doin' well,
I thought you'd like to know,
The roses are growin' on the hound dog's bones,
It reminds me of the time, I told you long ago.

Darlin' let's let our hair grow long,
We can work on a farm, maybe live on a mountain,
I got an old hound dog, likes to run,
Needs a lot of room, and he hates to be chained up.

Just like me, just like we are supposed to be,
Just like me, just like we are supposed to be,
Just like me, just like we are supposed to be,
Just like me, just like we are supposed to be.

The mountain's sinkin', the river's risin',
The sky's fallin', I fear I'm dyin',
The forest is creepin' in, and I cannot stop it,
I don't want to try now, I can't remember how,
I used to dream about them valley highways,
Before I was chained to this country by way,
And left me here, lettin' freedom tear us apart.

OOOOOHHHH!...

Darlin' let's let our hair grow long,
We can work on a farm, maybe live on a mountain,
I got an old hound dog, likes to run,
Needs a lot of room, and he hates to be chained up.

Just like me, just like we are supposed to be,
Just like me, just like we are supposed to be,
Just like me, just like we are supposed to be,
Just like me, just like we are supposed to be.

MS Paint Art

I created this the summer after I graduated from high school. The original was a piece I did on canvas w/ acrylic for a boyfriend I had when I was in high school. This one, of course, took longer. The palm trees took about 3 hours alone! But the seagull was the toughest! I would have done more, but it was overly trying. I listened to a lot of Sigur Rós back then, and I probably went through the entire "Takk..." album multiple times while I worked. Singing along to the words of every song even though I didn't know Icelandic. It was pretty ethereal.

"Fingermade" (ha!) by a laptop scroll pad, not bad eh?!

Shun Dell

Thinking of buying a new computer?
Considering Dell? Don't.
This is why you do not want a Dell computer:



This has been going on for about a year and a half now. It first started with one vertical line. Then two, three, four, etc... A nice assortment of colors, also. Next, lines starting aggregating. I now even have a horizontal line. It's weird though, because they all go away if I torque the screen. I once tried bungee cording it for some semi-permanent torquing, but to no avail. Haha... anyway, my computer is destined to fry its LCD. And there is no use getting it fixed, since you could pretty much call my computer totaled. Not covered by warranty, either. Thanks, Dell!... Even though you recalled this product for this exact reason and have a customer service e-mail address made specifically for customers with complaints about vertical lines!

This should go on fail blog:



I also have an issue with my battery. Every time my power cord gets unplugged, the computer immediately shuts down. Though, it will stay on for as long as it's plugged in. I can't take my laptop anywhere, geez.

When I'm at the library, and I walk away from my computer, I'll put up this screen and feel comfortable being gone for any length of time:

An Affair With Food

Food.
It's a beautiful thing.
And not just any, 'ole kind of food.
No. I'm talking about the kind that nourishes your soul, as it makes its way down your savoring palate, feeding every cell in your body, filling your belly, and connecting to your heart in so many different ways. It's the kind of food that is stewarded intimately from the Earth, emanating of social justice and sustainability. Food that is grown with love and is right around the corner if you look for it. And I don't mean your corner-mart grocery store. I mean, your next door neighbor.
Food that is shared with others. Food that is cherished.
Oh, how my heart soars for these beings. These soil-dwelling creatures that present themselves so closely to my health every-single-day-of-my-life. It's incredible. I eat every day, and it's this food that keeps me going. If not, I wouldn't be here.
Wow.

Consumer Whores

I hate the mall. It's probably one of my least favorite places. I try to avoid it at all costs, but today, my friend needed to go there since it was the only place in our Valley where there is a T-Mobile store. There was absolutely no parking. We tried for about 5 minutes to find a spot, and I was dazed. "Are all of these people seriously HERE?! Why the hell are there so many people at the mall right now??... What could they be possibly doing?? Shopping. Buying, buying, buying shit." This is just gross. The moment we walked in, fumes, I mean toxic, toxic fumes, flew straight up into my nose, intoxicating my pores and suffocating my brain. I could barely breathe; it felt like I was inhaling chemicals - I was. I pretty much lost my sense of smell. So, while my friend dealt with his T-Mobile business, I decided to go into Track 'N Trail and H&M, the only two stores even remotely close to my comfort zone. I did buy at H&M the same two camis I had bought two years ago, which have since stretched out and acquired holes. A two-year lifespan isn't bad from a consumerist standpoint, I guess. My next stop: PRETZEL TIME! It's like a novelty. Mall = oily, salted pretzel. Mmm... fond memories. So, I go to customer service and talk to this heavily made-up woman. She tells me that the pretzel shops are at the two far ends of the mall. So I walk amongst all of the consumer whores: the teenagers, trailer trash pregnant girls, people with SO MUCH FUCKING PLASTIC they're carrying (bags upon bags of petroleum), dumbasses just aimlessly walking around, "Oh, where should I spend money next? Duo-dah-duo..." I thought, "Do these people actually have a reason for being here?... Why does this place even exist?" I saw this chick laying down in a chair getting her eyebrows waxed. Seeing that, I felt like I was in a "Why Consumerism is Evil" documentary. This wasn't my reality. So, I got to the pretzel shop, stood in line, and ordered two oily, salted pretzels and a lemonade. I tried paying with my debit card, but they refused to take it without a picture I.D. "It's store policy." That's bullshit. Visa's merchant contract says in fine print that stores are not allowed to enforce no service w/out a picture I.D. I had to walk away, and I was pissed. It was pretty sad that I was fighting over something so greasy and had industrial food chain written all over it. I had to walk back across the entire slew of consumer whores. I left with my friend, and decided that I wanted to go back to get those pretzels. I was craving them! So I went back (in a car this time, driving to the mall entrance where the pretzel shop is located), this time with my picture I.D., and asked them if I could have my order again. The guy reached into the case. I asked, "Um, do you have the other ones?" No. HE HAD FUCKING THROWN THEM OUT!!! No way. I said, "I want those ones right now. Pick them out of the trash, please. That is so wasteful! I was here only 10 minutes ago!" He said that they couldn't sell those to me. Alright, whatever. Not the time to mention a thing called COMPOSTING, I figured. The dude would probably look at me like an alien. So, now I was my own consumer whore, with my oily, salted pretzels, tasting exactly as how I remembered from my past. They were terrifyingly tasty.


I can't believe so many people were at the mall. PEOPLE ARE ACTUALLY OUT DOING THIS SHIT ALL THE TIME!!!... When I'm in the little bubble out here in the Valley, being so deeply connected to my food, making my own stuff, etc., there are people buying oily, salted pretzels every day and buying MASS-PRODUCED junk (it's all just junk), taking up ENTIRE PARKING LOTS to do it!!! These people aren't being self-sufficient. They're just all sheep, flocking around like idiots guzzling down paychecks on nothing but things they don't need. Just stuff, stuff, and stuff! I'm not ignorant; I know this is going on around me all the time. I'm a consumer whore, too. We all are. But never, in like 5 years at least, have I been around such a concentrated area of consumerism at its worst. Wow, malls... these places still exist. I'm just so far removed from it all. I don't watch TV, ever. I avoid convenience stores, supermarkets, etc. If I ever go shopping, it's at a thrift store or online... Treating myself is going to local wholesalers of outdoorsy brands like Patagonia, L.L.Bean, Mountain Hard Wear, etc. I know it, but imagining a world where people do what I saw tonight, every day, frightens me beyond measure.

"Espresso Bean" Misnomer Rant

You know those little, chocolate-covered "espresso beans"?... Well, they're not actually espresso beans. There is no such thing as an espresso bean. Espresso is not derived from a special bean. Nor is espresso a particular roast. Espresso is just concentrated coffee. Making espresso is just a form of preparing coffee. When making espresso, ANY type of coffee bean is ground finely, and my favorite, percolated with boiling water in a stove-top Bialetti espresso maker. What an "espresso bean" really is, is just the previously mentioned finely ground coffee covered in chocolate, shaped into a small ball. It's not even a bean. Ugh!... A complete misnomer.

Spicy Korean Pickle!

Sandor Ellix Katz style.



I have a summer farmshare with Riverland Farm in Sunderland, MA, and over the course of a few weeks, I've acquired quite the stash of cabbage. Two honking napas, one that I made just a regular sauerkraut from and the other, along with two purple cabbage heads, KIMCHI! I turned to our dear friend who wrote Wild Fermentation for help.


I made a brine of salt water for the chopped cabbage and diced carrots and a daikon radish to soak in overnight. I then chopped up onions and garlic, one Hot Wax pepper and one Jalapeno pepper, cayenne powder, and grated ginger. Pouring off the brine, I mixed the vegetables and spice melody. Packed into sterilized jars, using the brine to help raise the water level. Fermentation will take about 1 week. According to the Korean Food Research Institute, the average Korean eats about a quarter pound of kimchi every day. I don't imagine I'll be consuming it that readily, so hopefully it'll last for about half a year or more. Kudos for food preservation.

Womb Connection Haiku

Daucus Carota.
A Woman's Aid When In Need,
Sacred Power Plant.

Anahata Calling

I was recently told by a wise elder during a Tarot reading that I needed to hold my heart center more openly and highly. I was reminded of my goddess nature. Within the following week, I came across this captivating semi-precious emerald stone, shaped somewhat like a heart. It was perfect for me in what I was interested in reflecting, as the heart chakra is green. I've since created it into a beautiful necklace piece. It is artfully caged in by coiling and spiraling gold wire, hanging by gorgeous beads over my heart.








I don't know how I did this.
(I know, I should really sell these, shouldn't I?)








This is a reminder for me to radiate compassion and love through my bursting Anahata to all of creation.

Sustainability

Sustainability is the capacity to withstand prosperity and sustenance through any of the opposing forces that may interfere with the ability of a particular state or condition to persist. It is the prolonged nourishment of any resource as to not cause permanent depletion of that resource. In popular context, sustainability is usually spoken of in reference to biological, human, and ecological systems. It governs the success of any notion, practice, or constant and is not only a way of life, but truly the only way to be, because without sustainability, nothing would be an absolute truth and nothing would continue to be.

The Bane of My Existence

Rainbow Fish

"Twelve fish swim happily around the border of this mandala, a reference to the yearly turning of the cycle of time - slowed for a moment during Crystallization."


I acquired this beautiful design from a mandala coloring book. Flipping through, I knew this one was mine, as I thought instantly, "Oh!... I'm an Aquarius!... This is perfect." It took a while for me to finish (the unfinished art sitting on my desk for months, 1/8 completed). I did it by adding light color blending pastel chalk. My inspiration for it is from a well-known children's story, "The Rainbow Fish", a precious favorite of mine.

Treasure Trip

Earlier this year, I scored this book at the Leverett Dump. A pocket-sized golden guide, written in 1976 by the famous Richard Evans Schultes (!!!) himself (the father of Ethnobotany), of hallucinogenic plants! In perfect condition, too. And now, this book is out of print. You could never find something like this nowadays... I snagged it with new-found glory. And I knew that it would be worth a lot of money. I checked a while back on Amazon, and the first going price for it was above $200!...

Psychedelic Mushrooms:


Cannabis:


Peyote:


Ayahuasca:




Amazing.

Luna Love

I went outside for a cigarette rolled with sage and knelt down against the backdoor of my house on the side steps. I looked out to the dark, cloudy sky and saw this bright beam of white light breaching right out of the clouds, following its way down to the treetops underneath it. There appeared to be a white dot through the trees, it started growing and I swear, I thought the end of the world was nearing. I was truly waiting for the famous white horse, and I was getting ready to go. I saw that the white dot was multiplying, into a ring, and it looked as though there was a fire circle beginning to emerge. The hills were dancing. At first I thought this was a forest fire, but my imagination led me to believe there was some sort of ceremony of the gods going on. Then, the ring arose, becoming clear that it was actually the moon, miss lady luna - solid, strong, and pearly white. She was illuminous, rising quickly, and was she ever so powerful. She took the sky and the clouds with her. Birthing out of fire, eastward, over the sun. I sent my prayers to her as she traveled onward high.

Warren Wrath

He's a source of indistinguishable fury. Choose open or closed flame, you just never know. A spark is always there, ready to bellow.

Unleashing the extreme is like standing under icicles. They hang over my head, ready to strike at any moment. You just never know. Ready to leave their puncturing wounds. I can't talk to them. Make sense of them. They are frozen, stiff, festering his core of anger, resentment, and self-hatred.

Too bad his raging fire won't melt the icicles.

Spending all of these years trying to become immune to it, and eventually, all he'll be hurting is himself.

Dark, despairing energy. The kind that sticks to the walls of this house.

Henry David Thoreau, Walden, 1854

"There is some of the same fitness in a man's building of his own house that there is in a bird's building of its own nest. Who knows but if men constructed their dwelling, with their own hands, and provided food for themselves and families simply and honestly enough, the poetic faculty would be universally developed, as birds universally sing when they are so engaged? But alas! We do like cowbirds and cuckoos, which lay their eggs in nests which others birds have built."

Maa

Shakti! I call to the shakti FORCE, ENERGY, STRENGTH, and child-bearing hips! Ah!!!... blessed oh me oh my, we are but made of steel, us women. Like the Hindu goddess Durga, capable of enduring the greatest of all hardships and pain! We are graceful! We are natural, raw beauty! We are divine power! We are nurturers, lovers, peaceful warriors, and mothers - grandmothers! We kindle and we give. We are healers. And herbalists.

Mmm, mama...

We are Earth. The moon. The ladybug. Wise. We are each all the foam-arisen Aphrodite. Swans. We are Rosie the Riveter saying, "We are doing it!" or, "We did do it!" instead of, "We can do it!".

A Beautiful Morning

The winding path of life leads me to gifts blessed by the universe. Experiences taken, lessons learned; embrace it all. Run with the wind, the ever-changing current. I can handle it all. Bring on the laughs, the joys, the tears... the sorrow. I am stronger than pain and suffering.


Ah, Astarte Farm, tomato haven. It was my last stop of the farm-hopping train. Cool mornings and scorching days. An August of a beat-up straw hat on its way out, a more-than-ever sun-kissed face, dirt-encrusted pores (permanent summer stamp)... oh an August so simply wonderful. A September, October, and November of crisp, autumn air and cloudy skies. My work for now has ceased, but the love I bred will cycle through the fertility of the soil for seasons to come.

What a breathtaking view that morning. A horizon so concentrated with blissful peace and stillness. Bond with the light, and keep chins up. Always look up and ahead. Time has precious keepings. Love.

Guitars, Hairy Armpits, and Snakes

My grandmother's emblem. Thank you, Nanny.

A natural.

Women with body hair are sexy, and body hair on women is sexy.

"Expanding... experimenting... growing... confident... beauty."

How To Make Raspberry Jam

It was my Sunday harvest at the garden, and I was:
less than a farmer,
more than a passer-by,
...
mingling amongst vibrant, red berries, gathering in glass, avoiding the sting.

Ethically self-harvest local & organic berries, leaving some for others. Take of which that is right, with thankfulness and gratitude for the Earth, as she so willingly shares her bounty. If it is cold, wear a coat, if it is too sunny, wear a hat.

Gather twice as much in berry form that you would like to make, as the mass of the berries divides in half when they're mashed. 1 quart = 4 cups; gather 8 cups of berries if you'd like to make 1 quart of jam.

Keep fresh.

Mash the berries, and warm the same amount of granulated sugar in the oven at 250 degrees fahrenheit for about 15 minutes.

Boil hard the mashed berries for 1 minute, mix in sugar, and return to a full boil. Stir until gel - 5+ minutes without added pectin.

Smile when you eat or prepare. The homecraft warms your heart.

Epiphysis Cerebri

She is the vision of metaphysical communication. Indigo energy field, with blasts of rainbow light inside those eyes. Flowing from her base, prevalent up and through her throat, forehead, crown. Seat of the soul, the pineal gland knows. The eye watches all and sees... vibrations. It is her identity. With many to choose. Mandala as offering. What will she project? Give. What will forthcome, now that she holds sight?

In Ruins

I am ridden. This happens, why, time after time again? Because I trust and love, which are worthwhile things in exchange for pain in the end. Crippling heartbreak. Helplessness. Death. Our essences joining as overlapping circles, creating a pointed oval of our togetherness, of which that is rigid in shape now, to be faded into dark as it dies a slow one.

A real man, may I ever meet one? Please? Just spare me. A real man to hear my stories. To embrace my flaws as stepping stones to our shared journey of understanding, compassion, partnership, and trust. I'm growing for you, so that we may grow together. I just want to be a good woman. I am a good woman.

I've been raped. A ragdoll, strewn across the ground with the blood spattered on my face of getting my heart thrown back at me. Thanks, hope you had fun with it. It's not even in my reach.

I rise above, stronger than this lifeless, ragdoll body. I am strength. I am power. I am wisdom. I am love. Love to go around, projected to all corners and infinite spaces of the universe. The mother, constantly reproducing. Breeding light. Breeding peace.

In ruins, this love. In ruins, I fall, even in the highest. Death potion, freezing ponds, cutting, self-destruction. Oh, but I'm beyond all that. I'm better than this all, but what must one succumb to if not reconciliation? To be in control, to hurt the other?... oh, what a perpetual cycle.

Drained, of all energy. Of all tears. Drained, it leaks into my waking life. End it, all. When will I be over this one?

"to you i wish the sun, infinite even when obscured,
the moon, cooling on the warmest of nights,
the heavens, rooted in today,
earth, the manifest transcends the imminent"
-from one who once loved me