GARDENING – Lucy L Jones PhD LLC

No Hardtack For Us

I haven’t always been in a place to garden. For about five years, I lived on my 37′ sailboat. At least one son lived there permanently with me, and two of my other teens spent a lot of time there, also. However, I kept several pots of aloe vera on hand for sunburns and cuts, as well as a hanging cherry tomato or two for something fresh to eat.

When I first moved onboard, I had a wicked time trying to cook a meal on the little two-burner propane stove. By the time I moved off the boat and into a house, I could cook a full Thanksgiving dinner on the tiny stove – turkey, pumpkin pie, and all the trimmings.

There was a small oven on the stove, and I had this fantasy that people would be lured by the smell of baking bread as we sailed along. Probably no one else could smell it, but it was enough to tantalize myself and whatever crew was sailing with me at the time. Can you smell it baking while I’m hoisting up my sails?

My recipe was simple – a no-knead whole wheat bread. In a very low oven, warm 7 ½ cups of whole wheat flour in a large bowl for about 20 minutes. Dissolve 6 teaspoons dry yeast in 1 cup lukewarm water and add 1 tablespoon honey. Mix 4 tablespoons molasses with 1 cup warm water. Combine yeast and molasses mixtures and add with 2 tablespoons salt to the warm flour. Add enough water to make a sticky dough, approximately 2 cups.

I usually get 2 large loaves out of this, or you can get 3 small loaves. Butter your pans and turn the dough into the pans. No need to knead the dough. Let it rise for an hour and preheat oven to 450 F. Bake about 50 minutes or until crust is brown. I let it stand in the oven for a bit after I turn off the oven. You are supposed to let it cool before you eat it, but I’ve never been able to do that!

I marked it in my cookbook that I fixed this for the first time while sailing into Avalon on July 25, 1980. Mark, my third child, was turning 21 the next day, so we celebrated that night.

Split pea soup became another tradition on all our homeward bound trips after a week or more at sea. It’s a good thing stoves on a sailboat are gimbaled so that they remain steady and the soup doesn’t slop out when we are heeled over on a good run.

Brown up some bacon ends and pieces in a pan, then add chopped onion and slivers of carrot and cook slightly. Add a package of split peas and water. Add seasonings. I put in pepper, oregano, marjoram, bay leaf, or whatever I have on hand. Simmer until peas and veggies are cooked, but I like to leave the peas slightly lumpy for a hearty soup. It thickens as it stands, but like the bread, it rarely has time to stand.

A big mug of hot pea soup with freshly baked bread slathered in butter seemed to make it easier to head back home. There was no hardtack for us!

Even though I am no longer known as the “BOATLDY,” I still fix this soup, and serve it along with biscuits, garlic bread, cornbread, or my fast no-knead whole wheat bread. It is a wonderfully rustic and earthy meal for visiting friends – and especially on those coolish evenings that we can experience, even here in Hawaii. A few fresh herbs from my herb garden add extra flavor.

The Black Madonna

I have been collecting representations of the Black Madonna for many years. I’m not quite sure what my attraction is, but I suspect it’s because she’s not the untouched virginal White Madonna we often think of at this time of year. The Black Madonna has been through the fires of experience and has survived, each time stronger than ever. I have photographs of paintings, sculptures, icons, and more.

The Black Madonna is a national symbol in Poland, with Polish Catholics making the pilgrimage as often as possible to see her. The story of how she came to be known as the Black Madonna can be found here. You might want to search for a list of countries where the various Black Madonnas can be found.

There is a beautiful essay online by Rev. Dr. Matthew Fox first written in 2006. I highly recommend that article to you. He talks about the “Return of the Black Madonna” as being a sign of our times.

Of all the female religious icons, the Black Madonna is my favorite, and my favorite representation is the Virgen de Guadalupe (Spanish for the “Virgin of Guadalupe”). Most of my collection is about her. I even have a mouse pad with her picture on it, although someone once asked if I didn’t think it was a bit sacrilegious to be running a mouse over her.

I love to light rose-scented candles labeled “Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe” that are very popular with the Mexican population. When I lived in Tucson, I kept one burning on the altar in my entryway at all times. What a warm welcome the smell of roses gave each time I walked in my door.

The photo above is a painting that hangs by my front door of Our Lady of Guadalupe. I also have a huge platter with her image painted on it, that even my Kaimana Kat seemed to love!

There are several books available if you are interested in reading more about the Black Madonna. Three exceptionally good books of all the ones I own are:

1) Longing for Darkness: Tara and the Black Madonna, by China Galland
2) Our Lady of Guadalupe: Faith and Empowerment among Mexican-American Women by Jeanette Rodriquez
3) Dancing in the Flames by Marion Woodman and Elinor Dickson.

I highly recommend any of these for enlightened reading this time of year. You may never think of the Madonna in the same way again.

Mele Kalikimaka and a hui hou!

A Typical Hawai`ian Winter

I first wrote about this in 2009 soon after I started writing my blog. It’s one of my favorite times of year here in Hawai`i, in what we call “winter.” The roads are lined with dazzling displays of poinsettias .

The highway I drive regularly is narrow and curving with almost no place to pull over, but I managed to get a few pictures. Some of the photos are a bit hazy, so there must have been some vog the day I took these (look up “vog”). Please enjoy these pictures that show a few of our winter scenes.

Yes, there is a difference between summer and winter here. Even in Florida, Southern California, and Arizona (all states where I have lived in the past), there is a distinct change between the temperatures in July and those in January.

Here, there is no noticeable change in temperature from month to month all year. From late November until mid-March, however, there is a change in what blooms along the roadsides and in our gardens.

Some places have huge embankments of poinsettias (Euphorbia pulcherrima). “Pulcherrima” means “very beautiful,” and it is. There is no way to compare these with the little pots of poinsettias you might purchase in a local store.

Against our rich green forests, the brilliant reds are almost florescent. Then throughout March, I look for those little drops of red in the midst of jungle growth that keep hanging on. When they are all gone, I know that winter is over!

Poinsettias flow over onto the ground and almost seem to take over everything else. My first experience with poinsettias took place back in the early 70s when I decided to take some courses in the ornamental horticulture department of California Polytechnic Institute in San Luis Obispo.

We made a field trip to visit the Paul Ecke Ranch in Encinitas, CA where over 70% of the poinsettias in the United States and over 50% worldwide actually begin their life. There were acres of greenhouses filled with poinsettia cuttings in all varieties and stages of growth. Please follow the link above to view the history of that ranch as well as the history of poinsettias in general.

I love the way they intermingle with the yellow hibiscus. Such a dazzling display of color!

This is a sight few of you will see at Christmas.

Many of the poinsettias have found their way into the wild tangles of growth alongside our roads.

Others are a featured part of a home’s entryway.

You can see why I’m obsessed with taking just the right pictures to illustrate this stunning plant.

Poinsettias are originally from Mexico and named for Joel Roberts Poinsett, the first United States Ambassador to Mexico in the 1920s. During his stay in Mexico he wandered the countryside looking for new plant species.

In 1828 he found a beautiful shrub with large red flowers growing next to a road. He took cuttings from the plant and brought them back to his greenhouse in South Carolina. The rest, as they say, “is history.”

When I lived in Southern California, I remember how people would plant the small potted plants they bought at Christmas time. Many of their homes had nice stands of poinsettias, but they rarely reached the size of the ones here.

If you are interested in what to do with your Christmas poinsettia plant, look online to read about it. You will find good sites on how to choose and care for your poinsettia, and what to do with it at the end

I really do empathize with those of you who are suffering under ice storms and record-breaking snowstorms. I have lived in Alaska, Illinois, and Rhode Island, so I know what you are experiencing. But I could never go back to it, now that I’ve lived in Paradise for close to 30 years!

Whether you are celebrating Hanukah, Christmas, Winter Solstice, Yule, Saturnalia, Kwanzaa, or any other festival at this time of year, poinsettias are a celebration in themselves!

Mele Kalikimaka
[Merry Christmas in Hawaiian]

Roasted Tomatillo-Chipotle Salsa

Like many people, I view the entire year as a grilling season that never ends. I even remember grilling in the garage when we lived on Kodiak Island in Alaska!

What better complement to your grilled veggies or meats than a tasty, easy to make, salsa?

This recipe was given to me by my daughter, Inga. I’m not sure where she got it. I tasted it at her home one year and I knew I had to make it soon! I bought the tomatillos and got to work. I already had all the other ingredients. I’ve eaten some every day since then!

If you are a gardener, you might want to try growing your own tomatillos. Inga has great luck with them, but I haven’t. I may try again this year, but they are so easy to find in my local grocery stores.

I know you’ll look for any excuse to make this – and eat it, too! For those of us who watch our waist, this recipe contains almost no calories or carbs and no fat!

Roasted Tomatillo-Chile Salsa

10 ounces tomatillos, husks removed, tomatillos rinsed and dried
(The number would depend on the size of tomatillos, but generally about 12-15)
4 cloves garlic, unpeeled
3 chipotle chiles (canned in adobo sauce)
1 teaspoon coarse salt
1pinch sugar
¼ cup chopped fresh cilantro

Preheat broiler. Place tomatillos and garlic on a baking sheet. (I sprayed it with a light coating of canola oil spray)

Broil, turning occasionally, until charred, about 8-10 minutes.

When cool enough to handle, squeeze garlic from skins into a blender. Add chipotles and tomatillos to blender. Process until combined. Add salt, sugar and cilantro. Pulse until smooth.

Notes from Inga: I don’t cut the tomatillos. They get very soft after cooling down from the broiling and you can throw them in the blender whole. I buy the smallish can of chipotles and it will usually make 3-4 batches. I get a few baggies opened up and ready to fill. Once I open the can, I put 3-4 in each baggie, plus the ones in the blender for the current batch, then split the sauce between each baggie. I keep the baggies in the freezer for the next batches. Some chiles are bigger than the others, so that’s why some baggies get 3 chiles and others 4. Just eyeball it.

A hui hou!

Kwan Yin

I made my first visit to the Far East in 1966. If there is such a thing as a past life, I discovered it there. There are several events that have stuck with me for the past 50-plus years to validate those happenings.

One of those uncanny situations revolved around statues in various forms throughout my travels. It wasn’t until years later when I moved to Hawaii, that I discovered the significance of Kwan Yin (Guan Yin, Quan Yin) in all her various poses.

I am not of the Buddhist faith, but there are elements that I find valuable and incorporate into my own faith.

I offer you Kwan Yin, the goddess of compassion, a bodhisattva who continues to teach me more about being a spiritual female.

I am a retired United Methodist minister who uses meditation in several forms. So I feel free to let Kwan Yin guide me in my inner evaluations.

When I need to hear it, she reminds me to be compassionate with myself as well as others.

She reassures me that unconditional love, what we preachers call “Grace” is for all people, including myself.

She is a constant reminder that the blessings of human kindness, or Mitzvah, connect us all.

Most of all, she reveals the feminine face of God, and allows me to experience my faith in ways that are more meaningful in my life, ways that are real.

As I travel throughout the world, it is hard to forget that we are all One, all needing that touch of human kindness and compassion that Kwan Yin offers.

A hui hou!

Orange Sauerkraut

Those of you who have been following this blog since its first post may wonder why I’m reposting some of the old ones. I’m in the middle of selling my home and buying another, so while my time is taken up with house-hunting, I probably won’t be creating many original posts.

If you are new to my blog, then I hope you enjoy these posts and recommend me to your friends.

I first made this recipe back in June of 1964. How do I know? I always date my cookbook recipes the first time I try it and give the family rating. This one rated very high with everyone!

How do recipes become our own? After so many years, we tend to add, subtract, or substitute from the original. Who knows at what point they become ours and not something from a cookbook?

I adapted this one from an old cookbook I had featuring recipes from Luchow’s German restaurant in New York, first published in 1952. You can see the splattered pages. The real name of the recipe is something more sophisticated, but my kids named it “orange sauerkraut” because of the color it turns out to be.

Even people who don’t think they like sauerkraut seem to love this recipe, probably because the sour cream softens the sharp tang of the kraut. Try it yourself and see what you think!

ORANGE SAUERKRAUT

2 pounds of lean beef cut into small 1-inch squares
4 tablespoons of butter (I substitute olive oil)
2 cups sliced onions
1 clove garlic, chopped
Salt and pepper to taste, although sauerkraut usually has enough salt
1 15-oz. can tomatoes
1 cup sour cream
2 teaspoons paprika
2 teaspoons chopped caraway seeds
2 cups sauerkraut

Sauté beef in butter or olive oil until lightly browned.

Add onions and cook 5 minutes.

Add garlic, salt, pepper, and tomatoes, plus enough water to barely cover the mixture.

Cook slowly until meat is almost done and the sauce reduced, usually about 30-45 minutes. Stir frequently.

When sauce is cooked down, add sour cream, paprika, and caraway seeds. Simmer ½ hour longer.

Mix in sauerkraut and cook until everything is heated to the right temperature.
Makes a wonderful family meal served with steamed red potatoes, or traditional German style with mashed potatoes.

A hui hou!

Meditative Bonsai

I can’t remember exactly when I first became interested in the beautiful Japanese art of bonsai. It was probably in the 1960s, when I traveled to Japan on four different occasions. On one of those trips, I climbed Mt. Fuji with friends, an exciting story for another time.

At the hotel where we stayed the night before our climb, I was quite taken with their bonsai garden. Many of the trees there were over 100 years old with an incredible history. I vowed then to learn how to create these for myself. I brought home many of the “bon” or trays in which to plant the trees. They have survived many moves since that time.

Before I go any further, I want to make sure you know how to pronounce the word “bonsai.” I’ve heard it called everything, including “banzai,” which is the suicide attack word used by the Japanese during World War II. The correct pronunciation is a softer sound of “bone-sigh.”

On one of my favorite sites, you can discuss issues with other bonsai enthusiasts, order supplies, buy bonsai books and tools, learn new techniques, and so much more.

The American Bonsai Society, Inc. was founded in 1967, around the same time I visited the bonsai gardens in Japan. Their official site has many beautiful pictures of bonsai.

I think you can tell from these pictures and from the websites I’ve listed that bonsai is the art of miniaturizing a tree or group of trees. Land is so precious in Japan that often the only way a person can experience nature or go into a forest is to kneel silently before a “grove” of bonsai trees in a tray. In this way, we can simply let ourselves melt into the tiny landscape and imagine walking among the trees, or be drawn into sitting at the base of an old tree. It’s difficult for me to describe this type of meditation, but it is a very effective way to put yourself into a peaceful setting, if only temporarily.

If you can imagine this pot filled with a miniature grove, then you have the ability to create one of your own. The Wikipedia site on bonsai has many beautiful pictures of not only groves and forests, but of other styles that can be produced.

There are a variety of ways to begin a bonsai. What I talk about here is one of the methods I was taught in the 70s at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo.

The roots of a bonsai are trimmed and secured to a pot or bon with a wire threaded through a wire mesh and tied around a twig underneath. This is one of my pots from an old bonsai that didn’t live. As you can see, there are many sizes and shapes for the trays, or pots.

Once the plant is secured in the pot, soil is pressed around the base and roots. Try to find bits of moss, carefully lift it up and transfer it to the top of the soil. This helps to keep the soil from washing away, as well as helping to create an illusion of age.

Then the process begins of trimming the tree itself to a size and shape you desire. This is not to be done in a hurry. The entire process is quite meditative and I can get completely lost in it all.

There are many ways to proceed. One trick in getting the gnarled effect right away is to buy an aging root bound plant from a nursery, like a Juniper that is no longer really any good for planting in your yard. I love the ones that seem to be growing around a rock. The roots have been secured in such a way that the tree appears to be sitting on top.

When I start talking about bonsai, I don’t know where to stop. There is so much to say. All I can suggest is that you get a book from the library to start out, find a nice flat tray, get a plant and just try your hand.

Before COVID hit our island, there was an annual show put on by the Big Island Bonsai Association, but I couldn’t find anything that says whether it continues.

I promise you that it’s extremely addicting. Once you start, you may never be able to stop. Why would you want to??

A hui hou!

The Purple Chrysanthemum

Today’s post is one of the fables in Feral Fables. In the book, you’ll find suggestions for reflection at the end of the fable.
Photo taken at Kalopa State Park, Hawai`i Island.

The Purple Chrysanthemum

Chores never cease, never subside. Menacing dark corners tower above and below her, dusty and dank. Driven here, thrust there, the woman frantically toils in vain. In every quarter of the luxurious home she unearths wads of shabby rags, inside bureau and closets, beneath tables and beds, over shelves and bookcases.

There is no seclusion here. It is no longer her home. Aliens invade, then abandon her in chaos. Serenity is shattered in the assault.

In a frenzy, she searches for one spot, one haven of beauty where she may hide from the muck and gloom, sludge and shadow. She is imprisoned and enslaved by the moment, shaken and disenchanted by infinity.

Others chart her headway as she labors, then regresses. Despondently she presses onward, now advancing, now reversing in an endless non-dance. Joy pales as the obstacles flourish in neglect. Song is stilled, light fractured, until she spots an overlooked box, unobtrusively tucked away behind the bureau.

In dismay, she lifts the lid, supposing it to be filth-filled, or barren at best. A small packet sheathed in foil rests inside, dormant yet dazzling in its obscurity. From the crumpled edge of the opening there protrudes a long green stem, crowned with a large purple chrysanthemum, blossom of her soul. An abundance of petals, long and delicate, unite around a pollen-filled golden center.

Tears fall as she recalls the moment she clipped the bloom from its parent. Tenderly she had placed it into nourishing water where it could take root and grow. Now long forgotten, the chrysanthemum has flourished, alone and in the inky obscurity of the ragged box. Surely it was withered and dead by now, for many moons have passed. Other celebrations have come and gone, but the blossom remains.

She pauses, then meticulously peels back the foil covering. That which was dormant for so long has burgeoned with fragile and lacy roots. What once was a flower, cut off from its source, has sprouted in the dark, unattended and ignored.

Weeping, she holds the hardy segment of beauty in the palm of her hand. The tiny bit of life, buried in the pit of her soul, is resurrected and retrieved. The purple chrysanthemum will never perish. She will survive.

Celebrations!

Happy April!

This year, we have several celebrations from April 1 (April Fool’s Day) through through Easter weekend to Earth Day on April 22. There may be others but these two, plus other holy-days, are the ones we honor most of the time.

For me, the calla lily will always signify Easter. May this graceful calla lily growing out of lava represent whatever holiday you are celebrating this season. May it exemplify the simplicity you seek in your life and the purity you hope to develop in your heart.

A hui hou!

It’s All A Fantasy, Isn’t It?

I started this blog in 2009 when my head and my life were in a different place. At the time, I wanted to give readers an idea of what it was like to live on an acre of lava on the south end of the Big Island of Hawai`i. Over the years, I included a variety of other topics – gardening, travel, recipes, stories, and much more.

I’m in a different time, place, and head space now, and I want my blog to reflect that. So, lately, I’ve been pondering other areas for my blog. I still may update some of those old posts and use them for variety from time to time. For now, as my topics seem to dance around, I want to write more about writing.

I was looking through some of my old journals and discovered that I have been wanting time to stay home and write for several decades. Even my dreams were about writing. Now that I’ve retired from all my other careers, I finally have time to write. So here I am, writing full-time at last!

Mystery writing has filled my mind lately, and if you want to find out more about that, check out my homepage for this blog (lavalily.com). I have one mystery published (Shadowy Tales) and you can find it (pre-sale) as a regular book or an e-book on either Amazon or Barnes & Noble. The sequel is on the way and may be out before the end of 2022 (Washboard Tales).

Fantasy writing also appeals to me, and other genres, as well. Whatever I write is fantasy in the sense that it is something that hasn’t happened – yet. The characters I write about are all fantasies in my mind. They live ordinary lives, yet often they become involved in extraordinary mysterious events.

In case you think you might like to start a writing career, too, I will add a tip occasionally to help get you started. Grab a notebook and just start writing. Everyone has a story inside that needs to come out so others can enjoy it.

TIP: Look around you at the everyday people in your life. Fantasize about them becoming involved in solving a small mystery. Choose someone or something and write a scene.

A hui hou!