Being home...

Being home full time has had more than a few challenges. Our latest debacle involved another trip to the hospital due to a concussion as a result of a seizure next to a table. Such is life right now. I begin projects often and then abandon them because I am exhausted, fighting side effects to medications, or just feeling plain defeated. So now I have decided, after all of these years, that it is time to tell my story.

The story of the life I have lead is difficult to tell, let alone get down onto paper. So below I am posting where I decided to begin this story. Maybe people will want to read it. Maybe they will not, but one thing has been clear as I have sat down daily to write. This life lead me here. To a life where I deal with seizures, nightmares, and memories that would make a normal person freeze in place. It is time I write this story because in spite of it all I have people who love me. As my spouse recently put it, "You have now spent more of your life in a safe and loving environment than in your previous life. I think it's time."

I was surprised where I began this story, but here it is for you to read and for me to heal.

Safe and Sound

Prologue

He crossed his left leg over the right and leaned toward me. His sweater looked itchy and hot to be in.  The office was warm and it made me think he may be hot. It was not him. It was me. I could feel my heart thudding in my chest and the rush of blood was in my ears. It felt as if the room was boiling hot.

“Athena?  Did you hear me?” he asked fervently.  I looked up and I thought he looked scared.

“Yes.  I heard you.  I’m sorry. I feel sick right now.  Did you ask me what caused me to remember?”  He nodded. Up until that point in time I had remembered little to nothing of my life.  Then it happened. “We were standing in hallway of our new home. My husband turned the lock of a door and it echoed through the whole house.  The next thing I knew I heard screaming and he was trying to get me to stop. It was me. I realized that I was screaming.”

I began to rock back and forth on the couch.  The doctor stood up and said he would return in a second.  He came back with another doctor. He came back with a female psychiatrist. There was talking, water, a small pill and then the rocking stopped.  They told me I needed to continue.

I breathed deep.  I smoothed the dress I was in.  I pulled on the pearls around my neck.  I shook my head. They urged me to continue.

“I thought I was seven years old and that he had found me.  He had his hands around my throat. I was losing consciousness.  Only I wasn’t really seven years old at that moment. I am 35 and I was in my very first home.  It was only a lock. Since then the memories have not stopped. They keep coming in and they do not ask permission.  Not only that , but they have REALLY BAD TIMING. Can we stop?” There was a nod in agreement between the doctors. We sat in silence as a small, mahogany clock clicked keeping time against the wall. I breathed in, turning my head to the bay of window that displayed the ivy on the hill just outside. Birds flitted in and out of the branches of the evergreens situated above the ivy.  Free. It was what I thought as I watched them They are free and now it is my turn. “What happens now that I do not have control of my emotions or my own mind any longer?” I looked at both of them for answers.

The female doctor stated, “We are not sure. But did you notice you are referring to these memories as ‘they’? These are memories and are not identified as a person.”

Angry.  I was angry.  I was good at angry.  All other emotions confused me, but I knew I was angry. “These memories are mine.  They are alive. They march in and out of my mind. They are controlling my emotions and changing my entire life.  They are a THEY!”

He looked over at me and sighed heavily. There were tears in his eyes.  I began to wonder what kind of doctor cries. As the female doctor moved toward the seat next to me, he began to speak.  “We will need to see you at least twice a week. You will meet with Dr. Norris once a week to begin medication for the depression and insomnia you are struggling with.  We will do a therapy called EMDR. Athena?,” he implored me for my attention. His hands clasped together in front of his small frame, a look of concern wrinkled his brow.  “This will be painful. This will hurt,” he stated his concern and waited for me to respond.

There was silence.  You could hear all three of us breathing.  I was staring out the bank of windows where I continued to see the birds that were free. The sun broke through the clouds, blinding me momentarily, bringing warmth to my face and causing the free birds to sing unexpectedly.  I turned to them, “I want to do this but I have a question.”

“We may not have the answer,” Dr. Norris replied.

“I know you may not but I still have to ask,” I replied turning toward her kind face that carried a look of worry.  “ Will I recognize myself when this is over? Will this change me? I have become very good at being me. I have things in place that make being me easier.  Will I recognize who I am when this is over?”

He sighed again.  He sighed a lot in the years to come. Come to think of it, so did she. It was never out of exasperation, I recall.  It was more out of a release of pain and empathy.The memories, the things I told them were painful for anyone to hear.  They were painful to remember and to say. Even years later, this is the case. “It is possible that the answer will be yes.  It is more likely that the answer will be no. You may look in the mirror one day and wonder who you are looking at. There is freedom in this, Athena.  Can you imagine being free?”

A grey bird, with a brown crown and black tipped wings landed on the window sill.  We took an account of each other. It’s tiny face turned and tilted. It suddenly took flight….free.

It truly felt as if my answer took hours to come out of me.  In truth, it took seconds. When I heard my answer I felt shocked, “We should get started.  When can I see you next?”

Peace, warmth, and an apple

I have been on a search for things that make my heart and mind calm.  There is little in this world today, as many of you can attest, that fit this description. It is sad but true.  So I have decided to not look outside of my own home for this and to look at what our hands have wrought.  Gardening continues to be the balm in Gilead. Right now the topic of conversation in our home often centers around apples.

You read that correctly.  Apples.

Not politics.  Not religion.  Not family.

Apples.

Apples are dripping from the tree in the yard.  

We have had to prop the branches up with poles this year.

I found myself staring down pounds of apples on my kitchen counter recently.

There was only one answer. It was time for our version of baked apples.

This is simple and requires only a few ingredients. This can also be easily made with your kiddos. Just remember that you do the cutting of the apples and they can do the measuring and mixing.

You will need...

5 pounds of an apple of your choice.  Wash, cut into cubes, and place in a mixing bowl.
1/2 cup of brown sugar
1/4 cup of cane or white sugar
2 teaspoons of Baking spice or even just a mix of cinnamon and ginger of your liking
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
The juice if 1/2 of a lemon
The juice of 1/2 of an orange
1/2 cup of raisins slightly rehydrated in hot water and then drained
1 cup of old fashioned oats


Whipping cream or ice cream to top a bowl full when it is all done.

Preheat your oven to 375 degrees.  Grease a baking pan with high sides or a simple 8x8 aluminum pan would work.

Mix all of the ingredients, except the cream, together in a bowl and then place into the baking pan.  Bake in the oven for 45 minutes or until the mixture is slightly bubbly and hot.  Here is how lovely it looks when it comes out of the oven...

I highly recommend a cup of tea while you wait.  You can just see mine in the corner.

Now here are some tips...

1. We buy baking spice from Penzeys Spices.

2. We also make our own vanilla extract, but use what you have! If you want to know how to make your own vanilla extract click here.

3. Some of you may want to have this bubble in a similar way as an apple crisp, but this is not intended to be the same. There is no flour or cornstarch in this recipe.  In fact, depending on the oats you buy, this could be gluten free!

4. Feel free to add nuts and even change the type of dried fruit in the recipe.

Last but not least, try talking about apples.  You will be surprised what this brings up in the memories of those you know and love and it just might be the peace you need in this very crazy world.

Auntie Cheena

I am safe. I am loved. I am cared for.

There are some things that I need in my home and this is one of them...

Frequently I will hear things from cooks or chefs on social media about the evils of mixes.  They espouse how easy it is to make pancake or waffle batter.  They state that I do not need these types of things and can simply store 8 types of flour in my pantry.

That might be true but I have issues....deep ones.  They start and end with a life where we did not always know where our food was coming from or if we would even have any available to us.  I also had no idea how to cook when food was around.  So I once asked someone what to do.  That someone was MorMor and she made these...

My husband calls them grandma cakes.  They are made from the Bob's Red Mill pancake and waffle mix.  MorMor was a World War II bride who eventually became a single mom.  She made a similar mix herself when she was young, but once someone gave her this she stopped.  Here is what she adds that is NOT in the recipe...

The zest of one orange

Homemade vanilla extract

I think it is good to mention that MorMor loved me.  She is gone and probably spending her time with Abuela, who went home many years after MorMor.  MorMor showed me how to grocery shop and placed this mix in my basket the first time we went to the grocery store.  She said, "This is quick but healthy. You need healthy, Athena. You need this to start your day and make you full.  This way you will not be scared throughout your day. He told me about when you were little. I am sorry about all of that, but now we need to fill you up with love and how-to. It will help. It may not fix it all, but it will help. Now let's get some eggs."  She walked away using her cane as I held back my tears.

When she was alive she taught me how to choose eggs.  She believed brown eggs were better and that you needed extra large eggs to make baked goods taste best.  Now my eggs in the fridge look like this...

They come from a local farm and the loveliest farmer I have ever met!  She often lets me come pet the sheep, peer at chickens, laugh as the kittens frolic, and listen to the pigs snort.

MorMor would have loved seeing this all happen.  She had a full victory garden, a few chickens, and skills that always put food on her table.  Her daughters survived on that garden and her no nonsense ways. She taught me everything she could when we were together, but she started with Grandma Cakes. I think you should start here too.  It may not fix everything but it WILL help.  Here is what you will need...

2 cups of Bob's Red Mill 10 grain pancake mix

2 eggs

1 3/4 cups of milk or water

The zest of 1 orange

2 TBsp of a flavorless oil

1 TBsp of vanilla extract

MorMor always insisted that we separate the eggs and whip the whites until they were stiff.

Separate the eggs

Add the oil and the vanilla to the yolks and whisk them together

Whisk the egg whites until stiff and they can hold a peak at the end of your whisk

The dry mix was always sifted to make it lighter...in MorMor's humble opinion.

Sift 2 cups of the mix into a bowl

See how fluffy it looks!!

Zest one orange and remember not get any of the white pith. Place it in the bowl with the dry ingredients

Wet ingredients were whisked together and then folded into the dry mix with the orange zest.

Add the yolk mixture and mix the milk in slowly using the whisk until all of this is incorporated.

The pancake batter will look slightly runny.

Then and only then was I allowed to fold in the egg whites.

Add 1/2 of the egg whites and fold them in until they are completely incorporated.  Then do the same with the other half.  You will have some white streaks in the batter.

This is important because it lightens the pancake just a little.  I can still hear MorMor telling me, "Be patient. Do not over mix it. Look at the food.  It takes time and you will not be hungry."  Hunger is not a word I liked hearing.  I feared it and MorMor was on a mission to change that.

I usually cook one of these at a time in a ceramic pan, but if I can cooking for a crown I use a cast iron griddle.  Use a 1/2 cup scoop of batter into a pan heated on medium heat with melted butter.

See those bubbles on the edge?

See how they look set?

It's time to flip! Now I wish I had a shot of this but a husband came in and I completely forgot!  I do have this shot for you though...

Leave them on this side for only 2 minutes.  Then stack them in a receptacle that will keep them warm.

There are many things you can add to these.  MorMor added blueberries from her backyard.  In the winter should would soak oats in milk and add them.  She NEVER used syrup on these.  They were always slathered with butter and homemade jam. I add frozen fruit, stir in apple sauce swirls, or even add the jam to the batter.

Our homemade strawberry jam made from berries grown in our front yard

Keep them in the fridge.  You can heat them in the oven or the toaster.  If there is fruit added to them, such as blueberries, skip the toaster.  I have heard you can reheat them in the microwave.  I am not certain how that will go because we do not use ours as a true microwave.  We put our bread dough to rise in there and that is about it.  I truly think you will enjoy these!

I must add one more thing...

MorMor....I miss you terribly. I do know that I am safe. I am loved. I am cared for.  I hope you know that too.

Athena

Being pruned hurts...

Do you know what these are?

A mason bee outside its home in Duvall, WA

Sorry about the fuzziness of the photo but this was one busy bee! This is a native bee referred to as a Mason bee.  We love them.  One Mason bee does the job of multiple honey bees and the males do not have stingers. 

Mason bee cocoons

Every year we collect the cocoons from the tubes you can see in the photos and store them in the refrigerator.  When spring arrives we place them back outside to hatch. However, long before that we must do something that will help them.  We must prune back flowering trees and shrubs to help create the energy needed for them to produce flowers in the spring.

Have you ever been "pruned"? Don't argue too much and just breathe deep to think for a moment.  I know it might sound like a ridiculous question, but think about your life.  Try and remember a time when God chose to prune you. (Or whatever you believe in.  Maybe you believe life did it and not a being of any sort.)  

Pruned branch of a blueberry bush

The reality is that it hurts like hell.  It makes no sense.  All you know is that one minute your heart and mind were whole and the next minute a piece is missing.  You liked that piece of you.  It may not have been the best part of you, but it was still a part of you.  The next thing you know it is pruned away and you are hurt. This time when it happened to me I was SO ANGRY!!!

Pruned branch of a hydrangea bush that is 

surrounded by new growth.

As a gardener, I actually flinch when I prune a portion of a plant.  There are times when I have to prune even healthy branches so that the plant can grow healthier in the future.  It makes no sense when I say it, type it, or read it.  It makes even less sense when it is happening to my own heart and mind.  This time I believe I am becoming accustomed to what remains now that I have been "pruned." All I can do is hope for Spring, because then I see the result of the pruning.

So what do we do now? Now that we have been "pruned."  Personally I am awaiting my own personal spring.  My heart aches but I know this is temporary. Regrowth and healing are on the horizon.  This I truly believe.  With a little help...

For now I have a little recipe for you to try while you enjoy the warmth and sunshine where you are.  A friend recently asked for my recipe for taco meat.  I know it doesn't quite go with the theme of this blog entry, but when friends ask for something that will make them feel even a little bit better I try my best to respond.  She was pruned recently and feels like a Taco Tuesday will help...even if only a little.

For the rice:

1 cup long grain white rice (no matter how tempted you are do not use Basmati rice here.  It is too floral in flavor and scent.)

2 cups of a vegetable or chicken broth

1 Tbsp of tomato paste

1 Tbsp canola or vegetable oil

1 clove pressed garlic

1 tsp onion powder

In a large sauce-pan heat the oil and then add the rice.  Cook until the rice is a light brown.  Make sure to stir frequently so that all of the rice is browned.  Add garlic and cook until you can smell the garlic.  This will only take about a minute.  Add water, Caldo de Tomate, and onion powder.  Simmer until the cube is dissolved and the water had changed to a light red color.  Place lid and lower heat for 20 munites.  Once the water is evaporated, turn the heat off and leave the lid on.  Once the rest of the meal is ready fluff the rice with a fork.  You will notice there is not salt in this recipe.  The Caldo de tomate takes care of that so DO NOT add any.  You will regret it.

For the taco meat:

1lb lean ground beef

1Tbsp canola oil (please do not use olive oil here no matter how yumm-o you think it is)

1 diced yellow onion

1 diced green bell pepper

3 cloves of garlic diced

1 diced and seeded jalapeno pepper (please feel free to substitute poblano peppers here, but seeding the jalapeno pepper is a must.)

2 tsps kosher salt (DO NOT USE TABLE OR IODIZED SALT! If you own it, please get rid of it and save your taste buds!)

1 tsp feashly ground pepper

1 Tbsp Coriander

1 Tbsp Cumin

2 Tbsp chili powder

¼ tsp smoked paprika

1/8 tsp cayenne pepper

1 small can Muir Glenn Organic Chunky tomato sauce (about 4oz).  No tomato sauce? No problem!  Try tomato paste, about 2Tbsp, ¼ cup water and mix them together.

In a 12 inch skillet heat the canola oil on medium high heat, then add the ground beef.  Break up the beef and cook it until it is brown. Season with 1 tsp salt.   Remove the meat from the pan, making sure to drain the fat out of the pan, and then add the onion, green pepper and jalapeno.  Add remaining salt and cook until the vegetables are softened.  Add all seasonings to the pan and cook for one minute or until you can smell them.  Make sure to scrape up those brown bits because there is flavor attached to them.  Add the meat back in and the tomato sauce.  Mix thoroughly.  Simmer this on medium low heat for 20 minutes covered.

On the side:

Chopped green leaf lettuce

Halved grape or cherry tomatoes

Shredded sharp cheddar cheese

Sliced avocado with lemon to avoid browning

Sour Cream 

Crema fresca i

Sprouted Corn tortillas heated through if you are from the gringo side of the family

Corn tortillas from the local taqueria heated through if you are from the Mexican side of the family

Pico de gallo (homemade please)

Chopped Cilantro (except for me. I have been traumatized. I will tell you about it later.)

A Love Story

Him...
I know I told all of you I would be posting about gardening and recipes.  However, we are in the midst of weeks of rain and little has been done to the garden as of late.  While looking out at this infernal rain my husband promised deeper beds, trellises, a greenhouse, and a new trough. He is clearly insane because there is NO WAY that can happen with his work schedule. However, this promise was made out of love.  Today I am going to write about this love. I think it's important I finally write about this.

Here he is whittling. 

When we met...

There was a time in my life when I was frightened of even my own shadow.  We met during this time.  I could roar at the top of my lungs but inside I was more kitten than cat.  He was young. We were young.  Even in that time he saw past all of insecurities and straight into the heart of me.  I refused to love him back.  It is a hard truth.  In all honesty, I felt as if I was not worthy of being loved.  I had been taught that...every day of my life.  He chose to undo this teaching and loved me in spite of myself.

Walking at the park.

The choice to love...

It was not an easy choice.  He had to ask 3 times before I would say yes to marrying him.  When I tell the story to people who ask about it, I say it in a way that makes others laugh. He recently told me that although it is good to hear laughter, to him it is not funny.  I hurt him with each no, but he persisted and now I am writing my true feelings. You see I had to choose that I was worth that yes he was so longing for. Every no meant that I could live in my fear and feelings of worthlessness. It was, in fact, in a brave moment that he threw caution to the wind to ask me again that third time.  So I said yes.  You should have seen the look on his face! So here we are today. As he says it, "Two and half decades later my love and I love you more each and every day."  This is always said with a loving smile and a gentle touch to my cheek.

Holding a new arrival to our family.

Why in the world are you writing this?

I am writing this to ask all of you to choose to love one another.  It may seem silly to you after reading all of this. However, I had to choose to love.  I also had to ask for help later in our marriage to recover from my past.  I am still recovering...in the name of honesty. But that might be another blog post.  For now, I am asking anyone reading this to stop for even just a moment, breathe deep, and in your heart choose to love.   I have found it brings about kindness, compassion, care, and SO much more.  He chose to love me. I chose to love him.  That is our love story.  That is the bottom line.

Athena

Food...Glorious Food...For me and for you.

The sun came out today so I decided that today I should walk through the garden.

I went outside and discovered the following...

 MORE RADISHES!!

 The potatoes have begun to pop up.

PEAS!!!!  Can you believe it?!

Mr. Ayres and I have made a decision about how we will use every space in and around our home.  This includes the space that the HOA has rules about...

THE FRONT YARD.

The front yard continues to be a point of contention for us.  The first year we tried to grow food but then we received complaints and a notice.  We are done not growing food in spaces that we can use to provide for our family.  

This space receives the most amount of sun.  We will be able to grow strawberries.  We have planted herbs and lettuces.

It has a portion of shade in one section where we can grow our cabbages.

2 years ago we planted a small rhubarb and it cannot be seen from the road. My spouse divided it and I forgot to give him instructions as to where to place the part he divided from the original plant.

It turns out we will have more rhubarb than expected this year and are glad of it.

We have also added these...

Free!!  A generous neighbor will be moving and gave us 5 of these barrels. We have used 2 for cabbages and will use 3 for tomatoes.

I was asked recently why I choose to do all of this.  The individual was concerned about my health, which is not great at the moment.  I sat under these today to ponder my reasonings..

When we were young we were children that spent our time eating foods from a food bank.  We ate free lunches during the summer at a local elementary school.  There was many a red apple and more than a few bologna sandwiches on wonder bread. My mother made anything and everything from a can. Even if it did not come from a can,  she could make it look as if it did. We grew to have allergies to many foods and aversions to things due to circumstances I will spare you from.  We should have been spared from them as well but such is life.

So here is my honest answer and not the one that I so often give.

I grow food every year because for the first time in my life I can relinquish even a small amount of fear I have harbored my whole life.  I grow my own food because I fear hunger and this is my way to heal even a small part of my past.

My heart was full in the sunshine.  My mind and heart were honest with each other in that brief moment.  So now I have sent this upon the wind (as my Abuela once called it) in hopes of healing.

May the Lord bless you and keep you all.

Athena