A Wonderful Emptiness

Tall and plainly dressed, a young woman stepped off the train that had brought her from Virginia to Amarillo, Texas one early autumn day in 1912. Georgia O’Keeffe was in love with the flat, colorful land of the Panhandle, a love that would last her long lifetime.       

“Wait a minute!” you say. “She painted in New Mexico.” Right you are, for part of her life. But this young O’Keeffe needed a job and she’d found one in a place that intrigued her. We can claim her as a Texas artist for she left a marvelous legacy of this young love. During the two years she taught art in the public schools of Amarillo she spent hours roaming the prairie and the orange rocks of Palo Duro Canyon with her charcoal and her sketch book at her side. Later she recalled, “It is the only place I ever felt that I really belonged, that I really felt at home. That was my country—terrible winds and a wonderful emptiness.”

             After her time in Amarillo, she headed back east to New York with a portfolio stuffed with those drawings. Some of these may have been in her 1916 exhibit at Alfred Stiglitz’s Gallery.

            Two years later, O’Keeffe came back to the Panhandle as head of the art department (of one) at West Texas Normal College in Canyon near Amarillo. She returned to her wandering life, but now she was painting in the abstract style that defines her work. She was not always fully appreciated.  The owner of her boarding house remarked after viewing one picture that it “did not look like any canyon that I’ve ever seen.”

Intrigued by O’Keeffe paintings of the lonely prairie and the wide night skies?  If you’re driving through the Panhandle, plan your trip to include the Panhandle Plains Historical Museum at West Texas A & M University, the campus where O’Keeffe taught. (You can even spend the night in the Hudspeth house where she took her meals.) And be sure and take the short trek to Palo Duro Canyon itself and watch the sunset. Surely you too will catch the magic.

           

When young Georgia made those long treks down Panhandle roads and Palo Duro trails, surely she had some sustenance tucked into the pockets of her black sweater. Here’s a long-ago Panhandle recipe she might have taken along.

Palo Duro Picnic Sandwich

1/2 cup softened butter

3 tablespoons prepared yellow mustard

1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce

6 green onions, finely chopped

6-10 leftover dinner rolls (depends on size and how many are left!)

grated Longhorn cheese (about 2 tablespoons per roll)

1/2 pound thinly shaved or chopped leftover ham

Combine butter, mustard, Worcestershire sauce and onions. Split the rolls and spread the butter mixture on each half. Put cheese on the bottom half of the roll, top with the ham and put the two sides together.   Put sandwiches in a 350 degree oven (if it’s a wood stove—about baking temperature) for five minutes or until the cheese is melty. Wrap in brown paper and slip in your pocket. Of course, these days, we’ll wrap them in foil. They freeze well; then bake them for about 10 or 12 minutes.

Want to learn more about Georgia O’Keefe’s time in Texas? Start with Georgia O’Keefe in Texas: A Guide by Paul H. Carlson and John T. Becker.  For Georgia in the kitchen, try A Painter’s Kitchen: Recipes from the Kitchen of Georgia O’Keefe by Margaret Wood. For a complete biography of this fascination woman, I recommend Roxana Robinson’s Georgia O’Keefe: A Life.

To see lots of images use Google Images or the search engine of your  choice. 

This entry is also posted at www.culinaryanthropology.blogspot.com.

My bluebonnet girl

[I posted a version of this entry two years ago. It’s bluebonnet season and a special day, a very special day at our house, so here’s an ever so slightly updated version. This may become an annual tradition!]

Another baby!  Yea! And, maybe, maybe this time a girl? Not that I really cared, but for several months all liquid that entered my body, even at parties, came via my pink mug. I got a handbag big enough to carry it everywhere.

            Boy or girl, didn’t really matter, no, what bothered me was that we lived in Oklahoma. This wouldn’t do. I might have a girl (I hope, I hope, I hope) or a boy (fine by me) but by gosh or by golly, I was going to have a Texan. My plan? About a month ahead, visit my mother in Amarillo and refuse to leave.

            Then, a bolt from the blue! Bob was transferred to Houston. Off we went in the big Chevy wagon—Daddy, Mother, the four-year-old, Mr. 17-months, and Daffodil the part-cocker.  That was in March.

            April 8—we welcomed our bluebonnet baby, our bluebonnet girl, born in the peak of bluebonnet season! Katy joined the clan. (Aptly named Daffy didn't make the picture.)

            She was a joy then, and a joy (and lots of laughs) along the way. She became a lovely young woman.

            

 

And a fantastic daughter. And  now a good Montrose neighbor—on her way over right now to do the NYT crossword. Thank goodness it’s Monday! 

            Guess what! We unearthed that long ago pink mug, and it is now Katy’s exclusively,  A pink mug of coffee goes well with a puzzle.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATY P, MY BLUEBONNET GIRL.

Dancing toward spring

I had so much fun with the spring reading entry, and inspired by my friend Linda who blogs every week about her quilting (http://lindadrawingtime.blogspot.com/). That I’m aiming to give it another try.

I’ve just made a romp through this blog and maybe I’ll get the momentum back from more than seven years ago when I first posted. I found lots and lots of cat stuff—that a constant in my life. Surely an update is due? When I started this blog I was in a little, I mean little, southern town—beautiful but this city girl thought about home in Houston just about all the time. Gradually we’ve been making the transition back to the city. I’m still loving it--most of the time.

Now as Easter approaches spring is all over the city. or nearly spring.  Flowers everywhere, beautiful spring flowers.

BUT

 March doesn’t give up that easily—when I walked across a neighboring parking lot I got to watch a

Lift Off

Brown leaves, leftover leaves,

abandoned leaves scattered

across gray pavement.

Lonely leaves.

Suddenly

rising, swirling

high on the frisky March wind

spiraling, turning

Dancing toward spring.

Primavera—First things first

Thanks, Primavera!

Welcome Spring! She arrived Wednesday morning, very early; now we're two days in. In this household she brought her fever with her. Happens every year, and of course, it involves reading—for a couple of reasons.

                For many folks and cultures, Spring’s arrival—the vernal equinox—is the start of a new year—try peoples as diverse as the Persians and the Celts. Certainly the flowers in my urban garden will vote for that. Okay, flowers and Spring, I’ll go along and join you by doing what I always do with a new year. Make a resolution. That’s easy as well. I always make the same one. Read more!

A book, a friend, a dog-pal, the
sunshine. Life is good.

Many, in a little while,
a nap.

                Spring makes it easy. The best antidote for Spring’s fever is a trip to the front porch or the nearby park with a couple of books from the stack or maybe the magazine (ah, yes, another one) that came with the morning mail.

                I’ve been doing lots of that lately. Sometimes I take a picnic and spend the afternoon. And I’m not alone. Lots of folks manage to free up a little time for eating, reading, even napping on Primavera’s best afternoon. But, you don’t have to have a park or a front porch to fight Spring’s fever. In my neighborhood you might hit the Black Hole Coffee House or maybe even the Post Office if there’s a line.

Where ever you are, enjoy Spring and grab a good book.

Easy livin', good readin'

"It's ok, Daddy. I don't
mind waiting, I always bring
a book to the Post Office.

Saturday morning at
the Black Hole fun.

(A slightly different version of this entry is at http://storycirclenetwork.wordpress.com/2013/03/22/primavera-first-things-first/)

Reading! Always! Wherever I Am--

I been around a bit since the last time I hit these pages. Half way around the world, if fact, right at 8,000 miles—straight from Bush Intercontinental in Houston to Dubai, ‘way over in the United Arab Emirates about 60 miles from Iran.

                Let me answer the question everyone asks before you can get it out. Why was I headed for Dubai?  As I came to find out, it is a tourist destination—but not usually for Americans. And no, it’s not on my list of “places I must go.” But there is a family there that is on my list to visit any time, every time that I can. My son and his wonderful family—‘especially seven-year-old Dasha. This was my first trip since they’d moved from London, and yes I was as, well almost as, excited about visiting this faraway place as I was about seeing my extended gang.

The screen was as fascinating as the Kindle.

                A bit wary of the 15 hour flight , I told myself, Be prepared. So I prepared and over-prepared. That Kindle was so loaded you’d have thought I was going to Dubai aboard the Nina or the Pinta, not a fancy airliner.   Then the flight: Yes, I did read some, but I was mesmerized by the screen that unfolded those 8,000 miles one mile at a time. The overhead camera let me look down on London and Istanbul. Very heady, and I did catch a Katherine Hepburn flick. Yes, I read, but don’t worry. I won’t run out of e-reading material for several months.

                Now, let me answer the second question everyone asks. What is Dubai like? Like nothing I’ve ever seen—or expect to. It’s a Muslim/Arab country, but more—a nation and a city of contrasts. From the tallest building in the world and the world’s largest shopping center (you’ll get lost, I promise) to camels wandering in the desert just a few miles away.  My head went into permanent wagging from trying to take it all in.

On the Arabian Desert not far from the bustle of Dubai.

Burj Khalifa--the world's tallest building

                Final question: the best part? That’s easy spending time around the house with the guys. And of course that always means reading. My son wisely married as big or (if that’s possible) bigger reader than he is. I don’t have to tell you about their daughter. This is the family that between travel and a major move have disposed of their ‘real’ books and gone largely electronic. I told part of their story in my October 25, 2012 entry on this blog.  There's no lack of chances to read with a couple of computers, two Kindles and three I-pads in the house. Even the little one does most of her reading electronically.

Great way to spend the afternoon.

                This isn’t an absolutely no-book household. No, not by any means. Each of the three brought quite a few that couldn’t, just couldn’t, be left behind or given away.  My daughter-in-law is a lot like me. She loves to cook. So, it’s no surprise that a good many of the books she brought are cook books. Pretty wonderful ones, as I discovered.

                After a few days, I got ‘real book’ browsing fever and hit the bookcase just before bedtime. I promptly felt in love with on a book full of whole grain recipes aptly named “The Book of Whole Grains” by Marlene Anne Bumgarner. No I didn’t quick-like order it for my Kindle. I couldn’t. It has a 1976 publication date. But I had to have it! Had to.  And so, the next morning at breakfast in Dubai, UAE, I went online on my Kindle and ordered a copy of the book from a dealer in New York to be delivered to my home in Texas. It arrived about the same time I did, and I’m still in love. It’s got a great recipe for gingerbread from Muleshoe, Texas, up in the Panhandle near where I was born.

                This old world gets smaller and smaller.

                Now one final question for you about cookbooks and e-readers. Even if my wonderful new-to-me book had been e-available, I don’t think I’d have ordered. I can’t yet see myself cooking from a Kindle. Where would I write my doubling numbers, or my yeas or nays? And what about those messy smudges that become dear memories. Can’t see it. I have one buddy who says she slips hers in to a plastic bag and cooks away, but I can’t see it. At least not yet. How about you? Oh, and awful thought! What about reading in the bathtub?

A version of this entry appears a http://storycirclenetwork.wordpress.com

How do you vote?

A Different Kind of Reading

 

“Come to bed! It’s after midnight.”

“Soon. I promise! I’ve only got fifty more pages.”

Maybe you can guess. I have book club in the morning and no way, no way I’m going to sleep before I’ve finished the book. Happens almost every month.

I’m a big reader. Such a big reader that when I made a New Year’s resolution to read more, my daughter smiled. No, she didn’t laugh at me, but almost. “Mom, you already read more than anyone I know. How can you want to read more?”

I don’t know. But I do.

There are different kinds of reading. There’s fun reading snuggled now under the down comforter on a cold night or stretched out on the couch on a rainy day. There’s serious research reading; I keep my notebook by my hand (or my notepad). I underline. I reread. And don’t bother me. There are magazines—the ever growing stack of magazines—and the two newspapers a day. Lots of reading. But nothing quite like book club reading.

First off, often it’s something I’d never chose to read if I were making the calls, but I’m not. It’s on the list; I read the book. Second, I read carefully, after all, I’m going to have to talk about this. Third, I finish—nothing like deadline.

It’s not just book club reading that I relish. I like the book club itself. No matter how meticulously I’ve read, someone catches something I’ve missed entirely. Occasionally, I’m the catcher and amaze someone with what I’ve picked up. Other times, I’ve read something one way and, to my amazement, others take it quite another way. Exhilarating! I don’t need the coffee and cookies.

I’d been missing the book club experience. I was lonely for book club buddies. About four years ago we moved back to Houston after a ‘temporary’ stay of over twenty years in a small town in Georgia. Some things I badly missed about city life, something I liked about small town living, and one thing I loved—my book club. It was an old (founded in 1929), somewhat tradition-bound organization. (Great controversy when someone served refreshments ‘after’ instead of before.) But twenty-five intelligent, thoughtful women gathered every two weeks. The best two days of the month!

I miss my Georgia book club--always will, but
I'm relishing my three new ones. Count 'em, 3!

            When we gave Houston a probationary year, I went on leave. But when we put the house on the market, sadly, I put my resignation in the mail. It wasn’t fair to keep another woman from enjoying what I had loved. But now here I was in Houston, and no book club. I missed it, missed it, missed it.

            So in 2012, when I resolved to read more, I also resolved to find a book club. No one was going to call me up and invite me aboard, so I’d better find my own. Resolution fulfilled! I have three, and I’m thinking about a fourth.  They couldn’t be more different. Once a month I go to my nearby indy mystery book store, Murder by the Book, we read to a theme. This month we’ll read two first novels, both set in England but very different, one is cozy beyond cozy (Wicked Autumn) while the other is dark, dark, dark (The Hollow Man). Every Sunday morning—my family doesn’t believe I’m doing this—I hike over to the nearby Unitarian Church where they welcome new readers—church member or not—into their book discussion group of serious philosophical and historical works. In fact,  next month I’m the leader for the over 800-page From Dawn to Decadence: 1500 to the Present by Jacques Barzun. I’ll be reading very carefully; you can bet on it. (It’s going to take us several weeks to do this one.)

            Finally and where I think I’ve found my book club ‘home’ is at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston where I am a volunteer. The Guild book club takes on a book a month and then we go to lunch. Last we discussed Carvaggio: A Life Sacred and Profane. It’s the book that gave rise to the “Come to bed!” conversation. I thought it interesting but difficult going in, but I came out so excited that I returned to the museum after lunch to look at some familiar works in a whole new way.

            I’ll remember 2012 as a banner year—I kept two resolutions. That may be a record. I’m in three book clubs and, smile if you will, Daughter, I’m reading more.

             (A version of this entry appears at http://storycirclenetwork.wordpress.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=2983&action=edit&message=1)

Almost there, I'm almost there

Whew! I’m done. That’s what I thought as I drifted off last night. I did the mental list in my head—yep! A book for everyone. (And you can just guess what I’m giving myself.) Then, this morning after my walk and before I got to work, I checked out Amazon . Suddenly, I remembered my (hope my kids aren’t reading this) tradition of giving them The Best American Short Stories and The Best American Essays of the year. I’d totally forgotten, and I’d already bought them (they are all grown after all) ‘way too much. So I compromised and ordered copies of The Best American Nonrequired Reading of 2012. They both have enough things they have to do, and this sounds like fun. So I’m lurking around the front door waiting for the mail carrier—again. 

You'll never guess what's in every package!

            Now my big question. Do I dare go to Murder by the Book (one of the best indie bookstores I’ve ever set foot in) this Saturday for the Christmas Party? Surely, I can listen to good music, share some holiday goodie and not buy a book. (Has anyone read Louise Penny? I haven’t but I’ve been thinking. . .) Nope think I’ll stay home.

            I’ve wrapped all the books I have to give, and they’re under the Christmas poinsettia (no tree at the Pandos this year—we’re going to my daughter’s.) Time to bake and maybe make some decadent chocolate truffles. They’re as tempting as a new mystery.

BUT wait! I’m not through. I was book shopping again this morning. I got an appeal from one of my favorite local charities. Yes, I’m a soft-touch. It offers housing to families in transition. Translation—going from homeless to somewhere permanent. There are lots of these families in the big city of Houston. Besides offering temporary housing, they do all they can to make the children’s lives happy like kids’ lives ought to be. One thing they are developing is a library of children’s books, and yes, they need donations. Moreover, they want donations to give as Christmas books. What can I do?

            When we did the great book purge I told you about last spring, I gave away most of my kiddo books. So now, I’m off for books. I picked up three this morning when I bought gift wrap at the dollar store, but soon as I finish this, I’m off for Half-Price Books and maybe a couple of the nearby resale shops.

            See if there’s a project like this near you. There’s nothing like Christmas, a child and a book.

            Remember the wise Sherlock Holmes. “It is a great thing to start life with a small number of really good books which are your very own.”

Soon, someone's going to love each of these!

(Another version of this entry appears at http://storycirclenetwork.wordpress.com/)