Pumpkin Cupcakes + Maple Cream Cheese Frosting

A teacher at our school got engaged and provided the perfect opportunity to whip up some lovely pumpkin cupcakes. I ended up using a Martha Stuart recipe because it only used ingredients I had on hand and didn't leave me with extra pumpkin puree languishing in the fridge, and they came out very well. As several reviewers noted, these are true cupcakes with a light, moist crumb and none of the heaviness of a nutty, dense muffin. I topped them with a luscious maple cream cheese frosting and decorated the tops with silver sugar sprinkles and edible heart glitter. These things are good! They are somewhat intensely spicy though, so if you make them either plan on adding a nice cream cheese frosting or consider toning down the spices just a little. Needless to say, someone ended up being pretty popular today :)

reviving the grad school dream

I finally found the program. New Saint Andrew's College has a new masters program for educators in classical schools with low tuition and low residency requirements. It's lovely. Allen has already said that we can talk about how to make it work out for me to go. It's not going to be this year. I'd have to retake the gre and get just slews of paperwork together, but we're definitely looking at figuring out a way for me to apply. At three weeks a year residency requirement it's even something I could potential do with kids, so I reckon I can afford to wait a little. Until then though I can save my pennies and work on getting my credentials together. Either way I'm really excited about the opportunities here. I'm finally getting to do something important that I've wanted to do for years. It's where I want to be. Speaking of which I have a presentation on Rousseau to write.

stay at home wife

Ok, time out blogsphere. Where are the blogs for stay at home wives? Can someone point me to even one? 'Cause I've done a little cruising around and as of yet haven't found any blog that really managed to write for women like me. There are plenty of homemaking blogs, but practically all of them veer off into Momland at some point. I'm reading this great post about organizing your time and discover that it's a post about how moms should use their time. Nothing against moms here. They are the salt of the earth and bearers of our future. But. I'm not a mom. I don't have to balance play time with me time with hubby time with...... I've got a whole heck of a lot of me time that I have to balance with my incipient laziness and my desire to put my fingers in too many pies. Believe it not, my needs are different. I'm not a single person with a husband or a mom without kids. I'm a wife who stays at home while my husband goes off to work. While I'm not ideologically committed to this way of life for everyone (or even for all seasons of my own life) it's what works now. And by "stays at home" I mean rises around 6:30 twice a week to go volunteer at a classical Christian school along with the various other ways I try to help out my church and community. I'm no "church worker," but I do try to put myself out there and help. Sometimes I help too much and laze around too much at home. Sometimes I do a pretty good job at home and feel the need to reach out more. It's balancing act with a huge learning curve for me. If I had more brains or a better handle on things I might try writing my own stay a home blog for wives. But what would I write about? I'm not sure. There'd be lots of links to Femina (see sidebar) and lots of questions. Of answers I am not so sure. Still, I wish we had more examples that didn't jump straight to motherhood. I wish I had a better idea what I was doing here. I wish I could shake the last of this lousy cold so I can actually start doing it.

Back to my roots

The past couple weekends Allen and I have enjoyed going back to our roots and spending Saturday afternoon rooting for the home team. That happens to be Auburn for anyone reading this who happens to know anything about SEC football. It's kind of nice. We pull the game up on ESPN.com and share a moment with all our friends and family back in Alabama who tend to keep an ear to the game. And hey, it's a good year to be an Auburn fan. They're number 1 ranked right now, and looking good.

It's not the way I wanted to spend my weekend. I wanted to go off to see the fall colors that I've heard are about peak in parts of the eastern Sierras. But since I haven't been able to shake this darn cold of mine Allen sort of made an executive decision in favor of staying home. It's not surprising. I was actually looking at getting a hotel for the night and not camping at all. I'm the girl who takes her tent down into the 20's and loves it. I plan week long trips over Thanksgiving. I really, really enjoy camping. So when Allen hears me start talking about hotels in conjunction with me telling him how tired I am and how I'm not looking forward to the 6-8 drive I'm contemplating......He said maybe we could go next week if there's still any color in the mountains. The eastern side isn't my favorite anyway. It's a lot dryer than the western Sierras albeit more dramatic. I'm really missing our autumns back east. Aspens might be pretty, but they aren't a replacement for seeing all the oaks and maples turning along the creek down at the farm.

So we watch football and think about home. It's a good life out here, but it's still mainly just California. This time of year especially, home is back east.

wedding nostalgia

I've got to wait for some laundry to finish washing before bed, so I thought I'd reminisce a little about the recent wedding we attended.

My brother-in-law's wedding was the first family wedding I attended, and the rush of emotions left me thoughtful for many days afterward. I saw my father-in-law's pride in his son's marriage, the little disappointments that ruffle every family event, my mother-in-law's misty eyed pleasure as she watched her youngest son make that most grown up of commitments, and through it all ran the memory of my own wedding. I'm not terribly photogenic. My mom wasn't there with me. The family fighting in my corner was one I'd met comparatively recently. I had one of my dearest friend's there with me that day, but she was as confused as I was about the various events that had brought me to the bride's room without mother or sisters. But through it all I appreciated getting to see how very much my in-laws love their sons and how glad they are to have daughters come into their family. In an odd sort of way they reaffirmed my position as first born - first daughter both to my parents and to them. They are parents to me. They may drive me crazy sometimes, but they stick by me too and are always looking for my best.

Seeing so many lovely weddings it's easy for me to regret all the things my wedding wasn't. I was tired, stressed, nervous, and largely alone. But I'm not alone any longer. Not only do I have Allen, I have a whole new family. If the memories of my wedding elude me (surely I felt something walking up the aisle, but I sure can't remember), I have crisply etched memories of early morning walks in Yosemite, gingerbread cookies on Christmas Eve, nights curled up together, and miles together in the car. I have a whole scrapbook in my head made possible by one faltering step after another towards an altar some four years ago. My impatient, sinful self wants to pout and pine that my pictures will never be as good as someone else's or that my memories can never be as joyful or complete as some other bride's. I want to complain that the world (and God) shorted me on the rarest and most special of days in a woman's life. Sometimes I do. But what happened that day? A whole bunch of people who didn't have to rallied around me to try and make up what was lacking. I married a man who has proven to be a far, far better husband than I ever dreamed possible. I discovered a family that drives me crazy and yet prays for me far more often and earnestly than I pray for myself.

So I sat in the pew beside my parents-in-law and watched a lovely woman walk up and join herself to this family of which I am a part. Ok, so a line or two in the wedding vows made me cringe. I don't like modern language and phraseology in our sacred ceremonies. But I watched. Where Allen and I were they are now; where they will go Allen and I have been, and my father and mother in law are there watching both couples slowly go over ground they first encountered years and years ago. We watch and pray knowing that we can't help each other very much, perhaps wishing we could recapture some essence of early marriage, and finally relapsing back into the realization that maturity is the dearest gift.

They have plighted themselves one to another and are now a new entity who may or may not open their Christmas presents in the traditional family living room with the rest of us. I wish them the very best in their new life, and I'm appreciative of this chance to look back again at my marriage - to see the good and the bad- and above all to be grateful for the gift that marriage has been to me.

Best Butter Crust. Ever.

I have to link to this pie crust recipe because it is a combined miracle of serendipity and google's search engine.

While visiting my in-laws last week I decided to make a pie, but I didn't have my normal pie crust recipe around, so onward to the Google I went and found this lovely recipe. When I say lovely I mean my father in law mentioned this pie crust at least half a dozen times over the course of 4 days. He's an easy man to cook for in some ways (like Allen he likes plain homey food), but when he goes around talking about several days after said pie was made you know you've found something.

I don't want to violate copyright, so I'll just tell you to view her wonderful recipe for yourself and then I'll jot down a few observations.



You back yet?



Ok then.


I usually make pie crust by hand (unless I'm making a three or four at a time) because it's really not much harder. Also, I think it keeps me more in touch with how the dough is developing. Learning to have a "light hand" with pastry is the proverbial skill that will keep things coming out flaky and delicate. Speaking of which, here's a trick I learned that may have helped with this recipe. After cutting in your shortening agent take a fork and gently toss or whisk the dough for a couple seconds after adding each table spoon of water. You'll be left with lots of dry bits, but try to resist the urge to add more water. Otherwise you might end up with a tough crust. If it doesn't work out quite right the first time you can adjust it later as you get a feel for the dough.

So you've resisted adding more water, and now you're staring down at a rather dry, distinctly un-crustlike assemblage of butter, flour, and salt. Well, since you didn't over mix your dough you should be able to turn all that out on the counter and smoosh (ok, knead) all the bits together without worrying about ruining your crust. Stop just before you think you should and then get after it with a rolling pin. I rarely wait to chill my dough anymore, and I have very few problems with this so long as the dough isn't too wet in the beginning. The rolling pin should get all the last bits together. Just remember to keep turning the dough frequently (and sprinkling flour over it) so it rolls out easily and doesn't stick or tear. (I forget this a lot - especially when I start rolling.)

And one final tip for crusts that I had heard but never took seriously. Trim the bottom crust a little bit long and fold the extra under. A very little will do. When I go to crimp the crust it looks much more finished and doesn't seem to shrink as much in the oven.

Even if you have a working pie crust recipe I recommend you look this one up. It's light and buttery and flaky and everything a good pie crust should be.

philosphy of hiking

When you spend 8-10 hours hiking up a mountain side you have a lot of time to think. At such times a lot of my thoughts center on just why I wanted to climb this mountain in the first place. After a few hours just putting one foot in front on another can lose its novelty. It's uphill all the way, there's a weight on your back, and the trail is pretty dusty. For a while I just think about where my boots are landing and watching the dust puff up. I listen to my pack creaking and hear the scrapes and clicks of my trekking poles as we traverse a stretch of granite covered hill side. I remember all the days I decided I was too tired to do my yoga or visit the gym, and I wish I'd taken the time when I could. Then I remember the days when I did my workouts anyway and am grateful for the ongoing push and pull of my muscles as I persevere over rain rutted trails and push upwards over awkwardly stair stepped boulders. Gulping the ever thinning oxygen into my lungs I inwardly say thanks that I've been able to work at correcting my anemia. I'm tired but not exhausted. Weary and yet eager to reach the top. I'm stronger for this hill than I was for the last. I rest my eyes on the peaks before me and reach for our evening's camp.

These are most of my thoughts as I tramp my slow way up the mountain. I'm the tortoise and not the hare. I walk long and arrive at camp after others have eaten. But I'm here. I can breathe the sweet September air and feel the first breath of winter rush over us every night. And so I walk over the mountains thinking these simple thoughts. Then, I raise my foot, put it down, and realize that this is life. It is so simple and yet so true. All of our days we spend making our way over the course set before us. We remember the good decisions and the bad, and we add to them according to our own bents. Sometimes we can rest our eyes on some goal and stretch out our hearts to it. Other times life closes in around us and rises before us so that all we can do is keep moving forward in faith that once day we'll reach the top of the mountain and find rest for our journey. The only way to learn how to live is to do it. Providence is both teacher and taskmaster. Every good decision I make at home makes my time on the mountains easier. Every lesson I learn on the mountain illustrates and prepares me for my life at home. I have found it so in other areas as well. Life teaches itself. God is revealed everywhere. We just have to keep looking.


Cause if you keep looking around and putting one foot in front on another, you might end up here:

From Vogelsang

Fletcher Peak on the trail up to Lake Vogelsang. Sometimes it's good to be reminded both of how far we've come and what lies ahead.

Happy Birthday to me!

Yep, it's my birthday. Went and gave a lecture on Austen's Pride and Prejudice, bought some yarn, and hung out with a friend at Stanford. Tonight there will be steak and coconut spice cake. It's been a good day.

Also, I am wearing a new (and wonderfully cobalty) plaid shirt I found at Ross. Life is good.

lazy backpacker

I'm prepping for another backpacking trip -possibly the last one this year :( For being too fond of reclining on my sit-me-down-upon* I'm constantly dreaming of unseen peaks and sunsets. I have a hard time getting all my laundry folded, but I long to head out for a stretch of meadow I've never visited and rest my eyes on the ranged peaks encircling and stretching away beyond me. At such times I'm deeply aware of my internal conflicts and compromises. I want to be uber-housewife with a sparkling kitchen, folded laundry, and tidy shelves. In practice I'm easily distracted by books, youtube, and computer games. I strive, and I fall back. For weeks and months I'll plan and dream of some trip only to discover that in the days previous I'd really like a mug of cocoa and a cozy chair from which to enjoy the view. Unfortunately some views are only had with a bit of struggling and scrabbling, and armchairs with the views I require don't come cheap. So I go out in the woods and pretend to be strong and capable, and then I come home and realize how completely lazy I tend to be. In some ways I feel it's one of the deepest disconnects in my character - this chasm between who I suspect I am and who I would really like to pretend to be. Maybe it's just part of the human condition. I think of what Paul said. At any rate, it's once more into the breach. Every day when I find I've wasted my morning or afternoon I just have to pull myself back together and go redeem some of that time - even if it's just a couple hours. Fall down. Get back up. Trip. Sprint. Fall and bash head. Get up again. Stumble about some. Rinse repeat. It's hard to call it progress, but I suppose you could blind determination not to be a slug - not to fall back and miss all the beautiful things that are hard to get and hard to hold. Like mountain sunsets.

(Although if my hiking actually looked anything like that I think I'd stay home. A bashed head ten miles into the backcountry ain't fun. Also, I really hope it's not too cold.)




Dorothy Sayers was in many ways a brilliant author.

not thinking things through

I keep feeling the need to write, to think, and to be be introspective about this whirlwind we call life. Well, I call it a whirlwind, but sometimes it seems more like one of those hills you see around here - all smooth and grass-covered. Lovely to look at on a drive up 280 but pretty boring after you've been sitting on one for a couple of hours. I look at all the tree a few times, count the ants running around a log, and decide to keep hiking 'cause I've already taken a nap and am getting pretty antsy myself. Extended descriptions aside, whether life is currently a maddening torrent or a particularly boring stretch of lazy river I like to think about what I'm doing. Lately though most of my thoughts have run more like this:

You know I really feel like I could say something about (marriage, dating, the academic elite, women in society, Dorothy Sayers, etc), but [sitting down to write a blog post] here's this implication and that implication. I really don't know enough to be writing about this.

Then I go check my e-mail again and never put in the work to sort out my thoughts on (virtual) paper. In the end I suppose that's another form of laziness. I want to have a considered life, but I don't want to put in the effort. When I do feel like putting in the effort I'm often off doing something else. So that's why I haven't been writing anything very much to the point. Also, I'm tired. My sleep cycles are completely out of whack right now, and no amount of supplements can compensate for that. Hopefully this is just another temporary dip in the search for a healthy equilibrium, but until then I'm just having to ride it out.

Lassen Volcano

Allen and I spent Labor Day over at Lassen Volcanic National Park. It's a really lovely place to visit. Maybe it's just that I was tired, but the park didn't feel as fast paced as some of the other parks I've visited. We didn't spend every hour of the day trying to see everything we could see, and we both had a really good time. We even took some time out to just lie in the hammocks reading. Still, we did a fair bit. Sunday we hiked seven miles, and read for two hours before heading back to the tent for some tortellini soup and a sip of whiskey around the campfire. There's a trail around Manzanita Lake at the base of Lassen Peak that we took both evenings we were there. It's a pleasant little two mile stroll with what are probably the best views of Lassen Peak at sunset. The alpen glow was pretty fantastic the second night in particular. I don't know that I've ever seen a mountain turn that particular shade of pink. Unfortunately I'd left my camera back at the campsite that evening and don't have a picture.

During our hikes Allen and I got to reconnect somewhat and discuss the coming months. We're going to try and introduce some basic routines into our schedules and make more space for productivity and real relaxation. Of course I'm writing this while I should be in bed. What can I say? There was a reason we needed to discuss this stuff. Of course we also talked about fun stuff - like comparing Vanity Fair to Wives and Daughters and Wives and Daughters to Mansfield Park. We really do have the best conversations when we allow time for them to ripen. Aside from literature we tackled race and class in American society and the significance of language. There's a reason we married each other. We were only the only two left chattering after everyone else had gone back to the football game. You laugh, but that did happen on more than one occasion while we were getting to know each other :)

Overall we had a very good trip, and I'm hoping to carry some of that momentum forward into Fall. It's going to get rather busy between now and Epiphany, and I'd like to be ready for it if I can.

note to self

When the doc gives you something (in my case a supplement) and says "here, this will even out your brain chemistry and help you feel more motivated" don't forget to take it (or fail to be motivated to take it) and then wonder why you aren't getting anything done. Who cares if it smells bad, and you're feeling particularly lethargic. Take the sassafrassing supplements! You'll feel human again!

Seriously, I feel like I finally woke up this week. Dopatone, you are my stinky but beloved friend.

moving forward

Got to talking with what I hope will turn out to be a new friend and discovered that there's a classical Christian school that's hiring for the school year. After calling them I decided not to apply, but I did discover an opportunity to volunteer at the school and hopefully learn something of classical Christian educational methods from the inside. As for why I didn't apply, there were several reasons.

1. They had already found a candidate for they position they liked and for whom they were preparing a job offer. Throwing myself into the mix would only have prolonged the uncertainty right before the school year started and probably unnecessarily so. Which brings me to my next two points.

2. Practically no experience teaching a class. I've tutored and things of that sort, but I've never led a class in my life. Some people would just jump right in and give it a try, and if they hadn't already had a candidate they liked I might have been tempted to myself. However I really do better knowing my boundaries and having a somewhat clear idea of what my limits are. I prefer to grow slowly rather than by constantly flinging myself from one cliff after another to test my wings.

3. The final reason I decided not to apply is because I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to jump immediately into full time employment. Having found out about the position less than 24 hours previously I didn't feel confident of making a decision like that so quickly.

However, the headmaster did send me a volunteer application. This excites me tremendously because I can get some training and insight into how classical education works and hopefully use that knowledge either when we have kids or when I decide to look for a job myself. I'm somewhat passionate about education, but until I learned about classical methods I never found anything I could stomach long enough to get the necessary credentials to teach. Instead of spending a significant amount of money and time getting credentials in a pedagogy that I personally find appalling just so I could try and leverage that into a foundation for the kind of teaching position I would like to have I can (hopefully) volunteer at this school and get the sort of foundation I would need to later teach there or at another school of that type. I've been wondering what my next step needed to be, and I think I just might have found it.

Anyway, I need to go to bed 'cause tomorrow will be a long day. I've got some of Allen's friends coming over for supper, and I decided there would be lots of lovely lemony cake to go around. That means I need to get some sleep tonight, so I don't fall asleep over the lemon curd tomorrow afternoon.

Must read Shakespeare

Have you read Much Ado About Nothing lately? If so you really need to read it. Seriously. Go pick up your old Norton Anthology (or I bet you could even find it on-line) and read it. It's pretty much the best Shakespeare play ever. After you've read it go check out Kenneth Branagh's movie version. Or you could do what I did. Check out the movie from the library. Read Peter Leithart's commentary on the play. Pick up my Norton Anthology and read the play. Watch the movie again and discover that Beatrice and Benedict really do make one of the best love stories of all time. The introduction to my Norton tried to argue that Beatrice and Benedict don't really love each other, but in my opinion that's a whole lot of tosh. That critic has probably never flirted in his or her life - or at least never flirted with half the wit it takes to read a Shakespeare play. There's also a lot of good stuff in there about loyalty, wisdom, love, and honesty. Just compare how Claudio and Benedict behave towards their friends and their sweethearts. Plus, for Shakespeare it's quite readable. Got to love the insults. No one can write a good insult like Shakespeare.

We'll miss you, Grandmom

Saturday evening Allen's grandmother went to be with the Lord. She was very good to us, and we're going to miss her a lot.

tired little girl

A while back Allen found an integrated health care practitioner and sent me to go see him. He looked at my eyes and studied my posture and had me fill out this exhaustive questionnaire and agreed that I probably had some blood sugar/thyroid/hormone imbalance. Then he sent me to have this massive blood panel done (9 vials, and I really don't like getting labs drawn), and I waited for him to sit down with the numbers and figure out what's wrong with me.

Iron deficiency.

Last thing in the pharmacopoeia I would have suspected. I cook with cast iron, eat red meat, use green vegetables, etc. Nope, not on the radar. Thyroid is a touch sluggish, but all the hormones are firing away like normal. Blood sugar is good. I just don't have enough iron in my system. Having learned that though, it explains a lot. Looking at the list of symptoms was like reading about my life for the past year. So he's got me on some supplements to try and straighten all this out, and hopefully I'll start feeling better in the next couple months.

It's also good to know that often when I didn't feel good I wasn't just lazy and not wanting to get stuff done. Doesn't help with the energy levels, but it does help with the guilt for not keeping my housekeeping up in the way I'd like.

been thinking some more

I believe my blogging comes in fits and spurts. Sometimes I write down everything. Sometimes I have to chew on things for a long time. There's a mental gestation process as I examine the world around me and seek to discover how I fit into it and where my work should be in it. This past season has been a busy one full of growth and challenges. I've hosted quite a bit of company of both the dinner and house guest varieties. I've planned more than a couple trips for myself and others. I've started to stumble into new routines and new ways of thinking. I have new friends and new goals. I'm loosing weight for pretty much the first time in 4 years. I'm seeking out ministry opportunities in places where I never thought I'd look. In short, I'm constantly picking myself up and catapulting again and again into that insane circus of life.

And now I'm thinking that it's time I started writing again. Today will be busy, but I'm going to try and get a couple thinking posts up by the end of the week. We'll see :)

vintage sewing feet

Went rooting around under the seat of my sewing stool looking for a foot suitable for making some piping for a pillow I've been making instead of getting ready for Allen's family to arrive tomorrow. Instead finding another foot for my Janome I discovered that the vintage Singer feet I had (which I found in a box under the seat after purchasing the stool from a Salvation Army thrift store)actually fit on my Janome machine. So now if I ever need to use unfolded bias binding I have the foot to do it :) More to the point, my piping came out well. Unfortunately I don't think it's going to get finished before folks come over.

getting by with some help from vimeo

I've realized that I have to actively pursue mental engagement if I'm ever going to get anything done around this place. It's not enough for me to close the computer and put down the book and put on a rousing round of folk songs, I have to have something to focus my brain on while I'm picking up the living room and such. Sometimes I forget and try to muscle through the fog of refracted thoughts bouncing around inside my head. Doesn't work so well. So I'm off to wrap my head around some exegesis of Romans - good hearty reformed stuff that should pair nicely with a clean living room :)

FIRST!

Allen went backpacking with me :) We did something like 14-15 miles (haven't added it all up yet), and over 3,000 feet elevation change over 48hrs. We were going to make it a three day trip, but since we weren't able to really plan ahead (apparently the maps for Henry Coe are only sold there) we ended up doing some fly by the seat of our pants planning at the visitor center that (coupled with an usually early start) had us cooling our heals at 1:30 with nothing else to do for the rest of the day and staring at the prospect of a long afternoon with nothing to break the lethargy but a couple of books we'd selected more for their prospective merits as conversation starters and less for their ability to while away a drowsy afternoon. So after a couple hour's nap we decided to pack up, start hiking again, and make a two day loop of it. Besides, the scenery at Coe, though pretty enough as pasture land, wasn't enough to keep me wanting to stare at it for hours on end. I've scene some places where I could just sit and wonder for hours without being bored. The hills east of San Jose....not quite so fascinating. Anyway, I'm super proud of Allen for his unexpected display of hiker prowess. That night when I was feeling headachey and tired he inflated the sleeping pad, fixed supper, and read to me. Then we got up, hit the trail, and made it out in time to get showers and head to church. Based on our experiences I think we'll make a pretty good go of the Sierra's this summer once we're able to get up in them.