a softer landscape

Even as once I might have dreamed of trips out into the great granite peaks of the Sierra Nevada mountains, now I dream of gentle hills rolling away into a dew washed distance. I miss the softer outlines of my southeastern home, and I should very much like to wonder through their gentler outlines again.

Allen, blisters, and rainy trail days

While Allen was out with his buddies at a conference in Atlanta I went on my first backpacking trip with a friend from church. We went out to Pt. Reyes and set up our tent at Glen Camp before hiking out to Alamere Falls. It's a lovely little fall that comes out right on the beach. Beautiful! Unfortunately we underestimated the mileage and ended up hiking back in the dark on lots of steep inclines. Not fun. Fortunately we had tortellini and a platy of wine waiting for us back at our tent. Don't know that the wine did my sore muscles any good, but it sure helped my way past the end of my endurance outlook on life. Well, the pesto helped a lot there too. We had talked about making a longer, ten mile loop, out of the park in the morning, but our sixteen mile day up and down hills had us pretty whacked. So we ended up packing up our gear in a very light misty rain and hiking out through the drizzle. I'd found two large blisters on my fourth toes that morning that even moleskin couldn't help very much. By the time we got back to the car I was wet, footsore, but still oddly glad to be out hiking through the woods. The rain actually made our typically dry California scenery look very lush and mysterious seen through the drifting bands of fog that shrouded coastlines and hills. Over all I had a very good trip. This whole weekend since Allen left has gone much better than I expected. Once again I've discovered that I'm a stronger person that I think I am, and that's very encouraging. Now Allen is back home (hurrah! hurray!), and everything is very good. I even found a Granite Gear pack I can take on my next backpacking trip. Usually I'd never even think about buying one of them because they're some of the most expensive packs out there, but good old REI was selling them for $150 off through their deal of the day program. If it works I'll have found more pack than I could ever dream of getting at a price I thought couldn't be done with a satisfaction guarantee that's the best in the business. That is a good week!

This barren earth

Question: What do you do when you do believe that people (ideally Christians) do have the God-given right to have large bountiful families and simultaneously you hold that no holds barred environmental rape is a Bad Thing?

Short Answer: I think that means you're invisible. The enviro-wackos think you're a huge crock of whatsit, and the Far Right (or the religious right) will look at you in disbelief when you try to start a thoughtful conversation about mining on federally protected lands.

Seriously, I've been lurking on this backpacking thread talking about how humans as a species already take up too much space and that going around breeding like we owned the place is a threat to the very values that "we" (outdoor aficionados) hold dear. They're serious. They want to see women educated to a point where they no longer want to have large families, free contraceptives and sterilization, tax laws that punish large families, etc. All this in the name of mother earth and sharing with other species. And it's not like they think each family should get a resource budget that they can use for one kid or for ten. They think you just shouldn't be having that many kids -that even if you raise your six kids to bike commute, compost, and never use plastic bags you're still hurting then environment because you're having way more kids than you "need." It actually makes for some kind of scary reading. Misguided too. Face it, the birthers are always going to win because they're the one's having the kids that are going to outvote, outfight, and plain outnumber the kids you aren't having. These people talk about technology like it's bad because it enables the earth to support an artificially inflated number of people. "Who gave them the right to breed like this and clog the earth with our species?" Uhhh, God? Oh right. You don't believe in God. The point is that they want people to be barren so that the earth will be fruitful. But that doesn't seem to be the way God set things up. If you look at Scripture God is all about fruitfulness. Children are fruit. The works of righteousness are fruit. Fruit on a fig tree is fruit. The children of fruitfulness cultivate the garden so that it will bear even more fruit. In God's economy more seems to equal more. The more we need grace the more it abounds. The more we forgive the more we experience forgiveness. God wants and calls us to cultivate abundance. How exactly this works on environmental issues I don't quite know, but I do know that Christians are called to populate the earth and that as a reflection of God's glory we should strive to use this earth in the most beautiful and fruitful possible. Fertility should call forth fertility and abundance reap as it has sown. The arguments posed by people wishing to limit population size are in some ways compelling if you accept that people can (and do) use the earth in less appropriate ways. However, their arguments lack wisdom because they rebel against God's revelation. I've stayed quiet on this particular issue (on the forum I read) because I doubt I can contribute anything useful to the discussion. Like I said, people like me seem to be largely invisible to the wider culture. We aren't busy creating Christian versions of the latest earth fad, and we aren't on the street corners chanting "Drill! Drill!" We're those quiet people who reject most of the environmentalist's premises and yet think that Christians can and should have thoughtful discussions on cultivating this earth in a distinctly Christian fashion. And I think that discussion needs to begin and end with an attempt to understand what God views as fruitfulness.

Snowshoe therapy

Seems like my posting has become more sporadic of late. I went through a depressed spell for a while where I was struggling to get things done. Fortunately life seems to be on an upswing for the moment. Getting out into the woods really helped. This past weekend Allen and I went back up to Yosemite for some snowshoeing. Neither one of us had ever been on snowshoes before, and we ended up having a lot of fun. We got to the campground around 10:30, but setting up took a little longer than we expected. For one thing there was about 6 inches of snow on the ground. Hmmmm. Out came the snowshoes, and we got our first taste of snowshoeing tramping down a smooth place to set up the tent. Second hmmmm. There was still too much snow for the tent stakes to grab well. Since I didn't have any sort of snow anchor I ended up improvising with a pair of stakes. I pounded on in as usual and hooked a second stake to it that would lay horizontally, packed snow all around the stakes, and horizontal surface area was enough to the corners to hold. I admit I have a blast with this sort of mildly creative problem solving while out camping. Later, in our sleeping bags, Allen remarked that it's a lot of fun watching me come alive when we start setting up camp. It's true. All those times I'd tell Allen to fire up the stove while I set up the tent. He'd heat up supper while I was happily (baring the truly unrepentant rock) pounding in tent stakes.

The next morning we woke up, fixed lunch, outfitted our day packs, and headed up for Badger Pass. It had rained that night in the valley, and all the way up we saw great clumps of fresh snow ornamenting the pine trees. Once at the trail head we grabbed our snowshoes and headed out to Dewey Point -seven miles round trip. Looking at pictures of winter trails I used to wonder why no one ever went tramping off trail through all that lovely snow. Now, I know. Unless there's a healthy crust on the stuff, snowshoes or no, you'll still sink in to mid-calf, and breaking trail is hard work. The other thing I didn't realize was just how warm you can get snowshoeing. With memories of playing in the snow at Wolf Pass with my family filling the back of my mind I donned two base layers, a fleece pullover, rain/wind jacket, hat, and gloves. Within minutes I had skinned out of my jacket, and by the time we reached the Dewey Pt trail proper I was down to my base layer top and had stashed my hat and gloves in my pack. I ended up losing my hat somewhere on the trail :( It was new too. Hopefully someone will turn it in. Anyway, even having stashed most of my layers I still got warm whenever we had a pull uphill. As for pants, Allen had found some cheap rain pants that ended up working like a dream for keeping wind and wet snow from getting us cold.

We ate our midday snack in a pretty meadow maybe a third of the way in on the Dewey Point trail before pressing on towards the point. Seeing everyone coming back towards up from the point we wondered if we were just a little bit crazy going on as we were, but when we got to the point....You come out on top of the south rim of Yosemite Valley just opposite El Capitan with a perfect view of Half Dome partially shrouded with feathery clouds that gravely danced in and out of the valley. Looking west you could see the outlines of tents perched on the shoulder on a hill with what must have been unbelievable views of the sunset reflected of Half Dome and the following moonrise over the cliffs. We sat on our blue foam pads contemplating the view and eating our sandwiches. I saw someone appear on the edge of the hill as if having emerged from one of the tents. Maybe next year I could think of a trip like that. For now I had to be content with watching the sky changing colors above the fringe of evergreens that grew up along the meadows we passed through on our way back down the trail. We hit the main trail back down the mountain just before sunset and spent a few minutes appreciating the modern convenience located close to the trail head. Getting back on the trail we realized just how close we'd come to hiking the last half mile in ever deepening twilight. Here on the main trail, which was really a summer roadbed groomed for skiing we'd have no difficulty navigating downhill to the car. Out in the woods we'd have been following tracks back, and that's never my favorite way to travel a new trail at night. We got back to the car an hour after sunset with only a little aid from Allen's new headlamp. Overall a very successful trip.

The next day we drove around the valley, walked the short trail to Yosemite Falls for a third time (saw deer tracks), wrote postcards, and took lots of pictures. Then we broke camp, showered at Curry, and headed back towards home after taking a short detour to the swinging bridge in Wawona. That's where my knee started acting up. I think I must have turned my foot wrong or something when went off trail. Somehow I strained the side of my knee. At least I was persuaded we should head home instead of hiking more. Including a stop for bbq we got home around 10pm, so we really didn't need to linger any longer however much the glow of lowering sun on snow tempted me.

I can't wait to go back there again. I'm hoping to get in another couple of trips before the snow melts. Then one more trip in the spring, and afterward I'll probably be turning my attention to less popular parks until fall arrives. There are so many lovely places to go, and I'm blessed to live this close to so many of them.

Dentists....

I had one of those aha moments where I realized that I'm long over-due for a dental appointment and that I really wish I was young enough to bring my teddy bear and get a sticker for being a big girl. Erg. I got to see my uncle when I went to dentist growing up, and I would still get queasy sitting in the waiting room. You know it sort of mystifies me that I can contemplate packing my life on my back for 3-4 days and disporting myself in bear and cougar country and then when I have to make a dentist appointment...And I'm really hoping that I don't have any cavities. I think I might have one, but I'm praying to be mistaken. Of course if you really can't handle it the nice doctor will give you a pill that will make you forget all of it, but I'm not that far gone. Of course I'm the kid who would start crying on cue when I heard my mom making a doctor's appointment for us because I knew that was probably going to involve stickings of some sort. I keep trying to prove to myself in various small ways that I'm really not a wimp (hey, when I cracked my tibia I was over there fighting back tears and shock because I didn't want to act all wussy), but most times I think I'm probably a wimp. Heaven help me when I have kids.

lovely technology

I was thinking the other day about all the things I can do more easily with a computer and internet plus access to netflix and iTunes. I can read books on-line through Project Gutenberg , listen to lectures on Christian history or Old English through iTunes, watch movies on netflix, get recipes and workout videos for free all over the place. This all on top of e-mail and blogging and shopping on-line. I must admit that my recent infatuation with the internet comes from my new work out resolution. I can get resistance training routine on-line, yoga and pilates on netflix, and even more yoga video podcasts on iTunes. Don't got to go the gym. Don't got to buy a dvd and hope it's good. Don't got to go the library and then remember to take it back to the library and be stuck doing serially different routines every week. I've basically got those whole archive of fitness routines I can access at will. It's pretty awesome. Also, the lectures. Oh, my soul, the lectures. I've been listening Reformed Theological Seminary's series on the history of the Puritans, and it's been quite interesting. I've been needing to get my head and my body out of the ruts I've fallen into, and I'm just thrilled I can do both without spending any more money.

Anyway, that's my panegyric on internet access. Thank you lovely people who make it all work.

Fear and Fatherhood

I've been reading an interesting book lately. It's called Holy Curiosity: Encountering Jesus' Provocative Questions and is written by Winn Collier. I picked up off a five dollar table at one of those bookstores that tend to pop up overnight in the mall during Christmas season and consists of a dozen tables with books basically poured out on them. Anyway, I picked up this book, and it's proved rather fascinating. Basically the author looks at the questions that Jesus asked his disciples (and others) during His ministry on earth and asks "Why?" What purpose could God have in asking this question and not the dozen other questions that we would have asked? What can learn from answering these questions ourselves? Why did Jesus ask this particular question at this particular time to this particular group of people? The answers that Collier comes up with are both challenging and encouraging. One chapter in particular caught my attention. In his third chapter titled "Why are you afraid? The grace of letting go," Collier looks at Jesus' question to the disciples when caught in the storm on the Sea of Galilee. On this chapter Collier has a lot of good things to say about fear and the way it works with our lives and our faith, but I was particularly struck by two things. One, Jesus was afraid (ie in the Garden of Gethsemane and again on the cross when God turned His face away). Two, often times our more superficial fears (say of monsters under the bed) are actually manifestations of our loneliness and our fear that we really do have to face the "brutality of life" by ourselves. Collier illustrates this by looking to his own discussions of bedtime monsters with his son. Collier writes:

Wyatt fears he will be left to himself to fend off the menace his imagination conjures up for him...Wyatt wants to know that, as he says it, "If I really need something, you'll come up." So, even as I tell Wyatt that there are no monsters, I want to be quicker to tell him what he needs most to hear--that his safety is not in his own hands, that if any scary creatures are foolish enough to enter my son's room, his dad will be there, hell-on-wheels, faster than he can blink, to dish out a grade-A monster butt whoopin'

Collier goes on to explain to his son how he will be there like greased lightning to pummel any monster his son sees. The reason, he tells his son, not to be afraid of monsters is not because they don't exist but because his "daddy is stronger than any monster there is."

I know that's a fairly extended quote, but I latched on to it because just last week talking to my counselor he observed that there must be times when I feel very lonely. I realized that he's right. I've spent the better part of my life not fitting in and not measuring up, and it's been lonely. On top of that I've been scared. I never really saw how the two might fit together though until I started reading this chapter. Because if you'll look at what Collier says elsewhere in this chapter he's essentially saying that to be alone is to be afraid because that means there's no one outside up to help us face up the brutal realities of life. Loneliness says that it's all up to us--there's no one I can rely on except for myself. And I don't know about the rest of the world, but I'm pretty well aware that one very determined cat could wreck some serious havoc on my rear. That's not to mention germs, cars, muggers, earthquakes, loose gravel, stray bullets, political unrest and all the other bogeymen of my imagination. Of course at this point Collier goes on to talk about our need for God, but honestly one of the things that caught me most was his portrayal of fatherhood. Growing up I always had the impression that Dad would throw himself between any of us and an oncoming car cheerfully with no hesitation. What I also learned growing up was that Dad wasn't going to stand between me and the real monsters that scarred my life. The few times I went to him saying "Dad it hurts when Mom teases me about this, can you help me" I came away discouraged and undefended. It was up to me to take the abuse, alone. I had no champion at all until Allen came along and finally asked what the hell was going on. He was the first person who attempted to fight the monsters under my bed.

I find all this immensely interesting because the way I look at my dad is (big surprise) similar to the way I look at God. If Dad wasn't big enough/loving enough to fight for me then I don't see why God would be either. And so the monsters, not seeing anyone around with proper butt kicking gear, keep trying to multiply. I keep trying to push forward into my fears instead of running away from them. And many times I still feel alone. I need to find the God who is there because to be quite honest the God I know is the one who still hasn't figured out how to keep poor children in Africa from dying of malnutrition. Yes, He died on the Cross to save us from the wrath of God. Yes, He is the perfect Creator of the Universe. Yes, He is God as revealed by His word in the Bible. Sometimes I just wish I could find the God who sits by my bed and tells me not to worry about the monsters in the closet because Jesus has a special roundhouse kick for closet monsters and He'll be here in two snaps if any monster tries anything in my bedroom. And then maybe He could help my mom.

I wish my dad had taken the time to show me that kind of God. Maybe Dad doesn't know that kind of God exists either. I wish he could have though.

an actual resolution

Ok, so I'm thinking that the exercise/lose weight resolution might actually stick for longer than it took to write it. Since I've already got some momentum going I want to break it down a little better.

1. For January I'm exercising at least 20min a day six days a week. Might reevaluate this either the end of January or mid-February. For now I just need the tiniest non-guilt inducing amount that I can maintain while still getting some benefits.

2. More veggies for supper. Go crazy and fix steamed broccoli and Caesar salad with the spaghetti bolognese.

3. Go back to the eat when you're hungry stop when you're not principle. Stop obsessing about camping gear for 3 hours and get some breakfast! The sale will be there later.

4. Easy on the grains/carbs. This is January. That means we've just come through Thanksgiving and Christmas. Carrot sticks sort of follow logically after all that pie.

letters

Dear Family,

Can we stop pretending that love is something you earn?

Thanks,



Dear God,

I don't like you very much, but I still need a hug. Can you handle that?



Dear Dad,

I think people are forgetting that I'm your daughter. Do you still remember?



Dear Sisters,

Once, we were good friends. I wish we could be again.



Dear World,

I don't take shit from nobody anymore. You've been warned.

thoughts for the last day of Christmas

While elsewhere people are putting up Valentine's merchandise and pulling lights down from the rafters, Allen and I are looking forward to the last official hurrah of Christmas. The living room isn't perfectly clean. There aren't any whimsical centerpieces, crackling fires, or gathered friends. There are steaks marinating on the counter though and unopened presents waiting under the tree. This isn't the Epiphany I hope to be celebrating five or ten years from now, but it's the very best Epiphany our travel wearied selves can celebrate this year. And, by God's grace, it's enough. Tonight, with steak and good wine, gingerbread and sweet potato soup, we'll quietly close out what has, in some ways, been the best Christmas we've ever celebrated.

That's the thing about getting better with practice. I don't want this Christmas to be the best Christmas ever because that means I'll spend all my other Christmases looking back to one tiny high point wishing I could go back again and capture a few fleeting moments. I want this Christmas to be the best Christmas so far - not the best one ever. But with that desire comes to the temptation to rush ahead and try to plan three or four Christmases out instead of enjoying the one I have right here. I need to rest in imperfection for a while.

So my bookcase needs organizing, and I can think of a dozen things I'll likely try to do differently next year. But I think it's been the best Christmas so far. And that is enough for this year.

some very California jitters

If any of y'all have heard the rather arcane news that the sea lions have (mostly) gone from Pier 39 at San Fransisco's Fisherman's Wharf you will perceive the source of my jitters. Apparently the sea lions arrived shortly after the big Loma Prieta quake of '86, and now they're gone. No one really knows why, but of course there's always someone saying "well, the animals always know first." Translated: the big one is coming. I'm an Alabama girl who hasn't ever felt so much as a spoon jingling tremor, and this little quasi-rumor has me just a tad spooked. Here's hoping there's more to the sardine fluctuations than the scientists realize and there's a perfectly plausible reason for this odd occurrence that has nothing to do with large scale plate convulsions. Eep!

A few goals for the New Year

Nothing very well thought out here but just a few wishes and intentions for the next few months.

1. Go backpacking

This is one I've been planning for and working towards for a long while. We're thinking about making a short trip just to get acclimated, but I'd love to visit Pt. Reyes and Yosemite. Pretty much just gotta get the water filter and rent some packs once we plan our first trip.

2. Go snowshoeing in Yosemite.

This one we're planning to do by the end of this month :D

3. Exercise 3 days a week

Now that I've started getting my mind in shape I'm wanting to work on my body. I don't care if it's five minutes or thirty minutes. I got a new pilates type workout set for Christmas, and I'm planning on putting it to use.

4. Lose 20lbs

Something I've been meaning to/half trying to accomplish for about 2 years but just haven't really settled down to consistently.

5. Read something interesting

Ie Emerson, Shakespeare play I've never read, Calvin, lit theory, theology, etc

6. Read my Bible more.

Yeah, we aren't going to talk about how much I don't read my Bible. However, as I'm starting to become more honest with myself I'm starting to realize just how much I really need to get in touch with the God who is instead of the God I imagine.

7. Find a job and/or volunteer position.

I think it's about time I start spreading my wings and figuring out just where I fit in this world. Besides that I've gots to keep my hands busy.

8. Invite someone over for supper/coffee/lunch.

Repeat as necessary to develop friendships and community :D

Happy New Years with a box of tissues

Hi folks! Sorry I haven't been posting for a while, but Christmas got extremely busy, and what with all the seasonal germs getting together with the seasonal pie eating I've come down with a cold. So I'm holed up on my mother-in-law's couch drinking tea and postponing packing as long as possible. Tomorrow we start the grand road trip to Dallas to visit Allen's great-grandmother, and I'm really hoping that I'll feel a bit more human by tomorrow morning. With seven people in a seven passenger van for ten hours this is not the time to be hacking up your lungs onto someone else's neck. Anyway, we've had a lovely but busy Christmas and are once again looking forward to being back home.

Hope everyone enjoys their New Year's celebrations!

Counting down the miles

Pretty soon Allen and I will scrunched up in economy class trying to catch a couple hours of sleep as we count down the miles to Christmas at home. Finally, mercifully, it's all starting to come together. The box of gifts has been sent off -possibly too late for the family gathering on Saturday but in plenty of time for Christmas, but that's not a total disaster since I've got a few more goodies tucked into my suitcase. The living room is lived in clean, by which I mean there's a plate here and some strayed kitchen towels there. Again, nothing disastrous. Similar could be said for most of the apartment with the exception of the back bedroom which has been the staging area for numerous Christmas intrigues and looks the worse for it.

For Advent we have eaten steak and pumpkin pie and homemade soup and leftover turkey sandwiches with lovely wines to smooth out the edges. I've decorated my tree, strung lights, lit candles, and decorated gingerbread cookies. All this and it's still a week before Christmas. It's easy for me to think about the lovely things I'd love to do for Christmas -more handcrafting for instance - and lose sight of the things I have done. A year ago I couldn't have imagined that I would celebrate the holidays with such a relatively low amount of stress. Life, breathing, is coming easier to me. Some of that has unfolded in the Christmas decorations around me and the presents wrapped and under the tree waiting for Epiphany when Allen and I, returned again to this new land, will finish the Christmas season together with all the abundance that overflowed our boxes and suitcases. I've done pretty well for a girl who started the year with as much overwhelming guilt and unredeemed pain as I did. And now I'm sitting here counting down the hours until a friend from church picks us up and takes us to the airport so we can go home for Christmas. It's been an amazing journey.

To everyone else out there seeking beauty, grace, and rest -Merry Christmas.

Almost there.....

Well Advent is almost over, and Christmas is almost here. It's a sort of happy sad occasion for me because on one hand I'll be going home and on another hand I really like making Christmas in my own home. Ok, so in the past it's been challenging. It's a challenge I've been warming up to these past few years. Since we're flying home this year I've kept things fairly simple overall - there's a strand of lights and a red beaded garland draped over my bookcase, a nativity scene in the bedroom, and another in the living room, some candles, and my tree. Against all common sense I had to have my tree. It's about six feet tall and covered with nearly that many strands of lights. I've got all my ornaments from Granny and Mamaw and Allen's mom on it along with some I painted and some others I picked up here and there traveling. Every year it's about the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. One day I plan to be that mom who decorates the house from top to bottom with candles, lights, fruit, greenery, and colored balls. I'm going to build me an Advent nest and curl up inside with a mug of cocoa and a wedge of pecan pie. But for now I'm just one of the kids hopping on an airplane and flying home. I look forward to it. I'm really looking forward to it. I'm also looking forward to the day when home isn't a place you visit once or twice a year.

Advent

The past week has been simultaneously very busy, very good, and very disconcerting. As for the very busy and very good parts I've found that I've had a lot more energy lately. I'm getting up earlier and getting more stuff done. My bedroom is so neat it almost feels like a hotel room, and we put together our 15ft bookcase in the living room. On top of that I've put up the tree, cooked, gone Christmas shopping, and in general gotten more work done in one week than I used to get done in a single month during some of my bad spells. I'm doing really well, and there is a part of me that finds this very disconcerting. I'm finding myself scrambling for the guilt and angst that have been my environment for the past only God knows how many years. True rest eludes me as my mind casts itself back and forth seeking its old companions. I know that I'm doing vastly better than ever before -I'm feeling better, doing more, and in general more comfortable with myself as an autonomous individual. I know all this, but I'm heaving and gasping like a flatlander in the Alps. I've breathed the air of guilt and insufficiency for so long that don't know what to do now that I'm breathing purer air. That's really what it feels like. I know that everything is going well and that I should be resting and enjoying my labors, but I feel so restless. Allen says I'm learning new habits and won't feel so lost for long, but I never expected that getting better would feel like wandering over some unmarked border where suddenly everyone speaks a different language. It's rather disconcerting.

Pear, Mascarpone, and Almond Tart

I tried a new recipe out tonight and ended up surprising myself. I usually don't go in for anything too gourmet, but even though this made up quite easily it felt fancy and somewhat decadent. As usual I went hunting for recipes and then adapting one to suit my own ideas.


This recipe is adapted from one at Cookstr.com.

First, you'll need a baked nine inch pie crust in a tart pan (or I used a steep sided pie pan.

For your filling you'll need the following:

2 pears peeled, cored, and sliced
white wine for poaching (I used some Riesling I had on hand)
1/3c brown sugar/succanat
1t nutmeg
1t cinnamon
2/3c mascarpone
1/4c white sugar (I used zylitol)
1 egg + 1 egg yolk
3T milk or cream
1 1/2T almond paste
slivered almonds

The original recipe called for canned pears, but I used fresh and poached them in a mixture of white wine, nutmeg, cinnamon, and sugar. I used just enough wine to almost cover the pears. Once the pears were tender I removed them from the liquid and reduced the liquid to about half a cup -by which time the liquid resembled a dark caramel. (Warning, the boiling wine smelled pretty foul to me until I added the cinnamon and reduced the liquid. Afterwards it tasted great so don't get scared if it smells weird.)
While the liquid is reducing mix together the remaining ingredients in a food processor.

Here is one place where you might want to play around. I ended up arranging the pears in the bottom on the pie pan, pouring the sugar mixture on top, and pouring the custard mixture over all. You could also put the pears on top. I don't think it really matters that much. Either way reserve a tablespoon or two of the liquid because if you pour it on top of the custard you can swirl it around with a fork or a toothpick, and it looks really pretty. Last of all sprinkle some slivered almonds over the top and bake in an oven at 325 for 30 minutes or until the custard is set. Let cool on a wire rack before serving.


This is hands down the prettiest dessert I've ever made. The custard turns a lovely golden color and the sugars caramelize into interesting little swirls. I was worried about the almonds on the top burning, but they ended up adding a lovely punctuation mark to the whole presentation. I think it's also going to be a fun dessert to play around with. There's proportions to play with for one, but I could also change up the flavors (Lemon zest? Red wine? Pecans?) and presentation (different designs and layering methods). For being fairly rich (all that mascarpone) this tart doesn't feel at all heavy like a cheesecake or some pudding desserts. If you accept my usual caveat that I rarely measure and these amounts are generally estimates I think it's worth a shot.

internet resolutions

Resolved: to stop reading web articles that don't interest me. Far better to put on a timer and just stop and read my book for half an hour than to read things that A. are mere repetitions of things with which I already agree and aren't instructional or edifying or B. lots of words winding down from faulty premises to an unenlightening conclusion. If I want to scroll for information after supper that's fine. There's no reason for me to be wasting my day in this manner. Also, with counseling and such I have plenty of advice and matter for contemplation without worrying about what some person with at least partially ill-conceived ideas has to say about matters of marginal interest.

Now, back to some matters of real worth.

and right into advent

We appear to have slid ride down the Thanksgiving Day slide only to land in the ball pit of Advent. There's no reprieve this year from all the festive food slinging -no week to spend stretching your belts and digging out your loose fitting pants. It's a turkey sandwich in one hand and gingerbread men in the other. Merciful heavens I don't know how exactly this is going to work. I spend so much time getting ready for Thanksgiving, and now I'm already behind on Christmas. It feels that way anyway. So instead of spending a leisurely day tomorrow running the laundry and in general recovering from the Thanksgiving rush I'm going to be rearranging my living room so that we can go get a tree to put up Tuesday. Since I also wanted to have my new bookcase put together by Christmas I'm going to be clearing out room in the living room tomorrow so that when we come home tomorrow with our Christmas tree we can start on that. SO! This week I'm going to put together a bookcase, decorate my Christmas tree, clean up the apartment, finish shopping for Christmas presents, and try to do at least one Christmas-y thing for myself. Oof. I need a nap.

More thoughts before the Feast

This is the part where things start to get sad. Looking on Facebook I see my old pastor "incandescently happy" to have his daughter home to Thanksgiving; I see my younger sister updating her profile as she leaves college herself and then arrives at home, and it hurts. It hurts because I don't know what it means for my dad to love me that much. It hurts because no one is at home waiting for their daughter to come and complete the circle -at least if they are they haven't said anything about it to me. There's a lot of heartache there. And when I mention my old pastor I don't mean to say that I think he's a perfect dad or that my life would have been materially better if I'd been born into a different family. For all their flaws I love my parents a lot. I just know that there's a dad out there on Facebook with the biggest grin I've ever seen on his face just because his daughter came home, and I wish that was me and my dad. This is the part of Thanksgiving that hurts. This is where are the old war wounds start aching and twinging in the sweeping east wind of love seen from afar.