Day: October 3, 2015

http://fraumitgitarre.de/

** ed note: this post was actually written in October 2014 but was unpublished.  One year later…

Since arriving in DE, the Caustic One has been exposed to more than her share of breads. Good crusty European breads, soft in the middle, crusty on the outside. Rolls covered with seeds of various sorts, soft in the middle, not too hard on the outside. Dense high fibre breads with nuts throughout.

The German bread obsession is more than an obsession: it is a lifestyle. Breakfast: Bread and something: cheese, egg salad, shrimp salad, wurst/met, quark, cheese with “marmalade”, cucumbers, tomatoes. Warm oatmeal is a rarity – but mueslix is common, with yogurt. Possibly some fruit. Lunch: Yah. Many people have bread with something, although a nice ‘MalZeit’ is preferred – a warm meal, with ‘Nachtisch’ – something sweet, maybe pudding or kuchen or what we would call in the US “jello”. Yeah, Jello. With cream. It was a shock! Dinner — light, soup and bread oftentimes. At a recent Choir retreat, we were treated to Bread and Rolls and Muslix for breakfast, a warm curry or soup with rice or potatoes for lunch and Nachtisch, and evening meal of bread (not rolls, sliced rye) and cheese, various sliced meats, Met (with raw onions, yum yum), and cream herring salad (once with a lovely apple cream). LaFerg’s consumption of bread at this retreat was greater than that consumed during the six months prior.

Which is not to say that laFerg does not like bread. On the contrary, this stuff is amazing and delicious. It is just that, the bread does not like laFerg’s body. It is basically glue. Drinking a beer (bread in a glass) is easier on the ol’ digestive tract.

Of course, one cannot be in Europe and never eat bread. But purchasing bread for one person is a bit silly, and generally, LaFerg prefers not to have a bread dinner, and oatmeal over bread in the morning. So twice a month, she treats herself to homemade bread. Mostly this has been rye/wheat, but a spelt/rye bread was also delicious.

Now, it is currently Kurbis time in Central DE. With seven squash in her kitchen, laFerg has decided to honor the Great Pumpkin by making a pumpkin-spelt bread. There are two reasons for this, but one is — well, there’s a lot of pumpkin in the house, and there will be more, as the CSA share is twice a week and laFerg is sure that more pumpkins will be available in a few short days. Secondly, she has been invited to breakfast, and what nicer gift than a small loaf of homemade pumpkin bread? Well, if it tastes good, that is…

As this entry is typed, the oven is roasting some pumpkins. From there, an overnight long proof dough will be created, for early morning baking. Whee!!!

More on this later….

The Caustic One has a lot of Stuff. Her friends in DE comment on it. She does not have as much Stuff as the Eltern, but she is surrounded by various object d’Art (bwahahah), knicknacks, toys, pictures, dishes, etc.

It’s not just First World Materialism, actually. It’s part of the everpresent fight to Remember. Caustic has lived in a lot of places, done a lot of things, met a lot of people, and her once photographic memory now has blank film. Possibly overexposed due to the many things, thoughts, meetings, adventures, encounters, etc, but blank nonetheless. Else, burried deep within some binary layer of compression in the mind so that more stuff can be added. Whatever the cause, there are things she does not want to forget.

So there is a woven basket with a couple of stuffed rag rabbits that remind her of coaching the best youth soccer teams in Kenosha. Two gals that went from shy and unassuming to leaders on their team, skilled, observant, and forward thinking. Caustic one might not remember their names at this moment, but she remembers their faces and how they developed to become confident and skilled members of the team. Their rosy cheeks in the crisp autumn weather in Kenosha, WI as they dribbled and passed their way to the goal, laughing and becoming part of a cohesive team of young-ladies-in-the-making.

There is a glass fountain pen – a gift from the friend she has known the longest, Practical, pragmatic L; on display bone china cat figurines, both tiny and small, from when the two of them used to go to the Milwaukee Public Museum and spend money on tiny kitties, mint tea, and candies at the Old World Milwaukee shops. Memories of getting caught in the rain and trying to dry long, tangled hair on the bus, which ran late when the weather was frigid. Playing D&D with friends. The fact that when Caustic found out she was preggers with Alpha, L took her out to celebrate when other people gave her crap for having a second child so soon after the first. Drinking Mint Tea at the Big House, buying pickles and hiding them from her father.

A ceramic figure that Caustic painted that reminds her of dearest Peanut, a friend from University, and a yarn doll purchased during blues fest in Chicago. Peanut and Caustic are still friends after all these years; Caustic remembers Peanut making white lasagna in a crock pot in a total dive apartment on the Lower East Side while they were college students, the best foot massages in the world from her friend who was studying musculoskeletal systems in preparation for some program at UWM that only took 20 people a year with over 100 applicants. Every time Caustic looks at the figurine, she remembers things about Peanut: the flamenco exercise class that used only ones body for toning and working which resulted in two weeks of intense agony, demonstrating that things change after a four year dance hiatus. Dancing and laughing and stringalong weekends; one of which we both attended with horrible partners who had to be ditched along the way. The best ribs on the planet, and the best bouillabaisse ever, anywhere, period were lovingly cooked by Peanut.

A teddy bear from the time Wanderlustette/Echo and Caustic sold pizzas for her Dance Studio, and sold pizzas, and delivered pizzas. A stuffed kitty cat from Echo when the Long Island adventures began, because it reminded her of Emmett. A ceramic monster that Echo made in art class, purple and reminding me of “where the wild things are”, next to an applique kitty cat in an embroidery hoop where the cat is grey, because of course, Emmett was grey. And even a ceramic Emmett on a purple pillow because Emmett loved his purple pillow. And Echo knew that Mama loved Emmett.

A frog and a duck figurine from the Babes and Airplanes Gathering in Memphis with Capt. Speckles, meeting up with great friends and flying IMC from NY mostly to Memphis; smooth, happy IMC with no bumps, just surrounded by grey and silver, watching the instruments, gliding through time and space in Little Lima.

A ceramic planetarium made by Alpha, which is obviously a planetarium, but which is constantly being mistaken for an Ice Cream Cone by visitors to the house that don’t make the “friends” cut — or who are Someone Else’s Friend. YEs, there is a reason Caustic is called “Caustic”. Christmas decorations that Alpha and Echo bought one year from the elementary school bazaar after Alpha bothered his paternal grandmother for money because he needed to “buy mama christmas presents” at 10 years of age. Yes they are small and cheesy and made in China or Indonesia, but the represent something much deeper and valuable than the item themself. They represent a young man growing into a decent human being with huge interests and big dreams.

Then there are the teapots. There are no such thing as too many teapots. One is jasperware, bought from a friend who was forced to auction off many of her nice things as a result of extended unemployment. At the time, Caustic was not as strapped financially, but she’d always wanted a wedgewood teapot as a reminder of her undergraduate degree. The teapot brought not only reminders of the degree, but of her friend who went on to marry a lovely British man, both of whom she remembers fondly. Another is made by a Native Woman near Omak, where Echo worked with the children, helping them with their reading skills; it’s a beautiful piece with pressed in leaves and all the colors of the Omak landscape in Northwestern Washington State – the colors of Gaia, the first GrandKitty. There is a beautiful blue-brown-green glazed 4 cup (two American cups) from Babs, with four little matching cups, that Caustic uses regularly, and thinks of all the trials Babs faces while Caustic is in Europe, caring for a father that is more and more distant as his illness progresses; Babs, who looks amazing in a tux with top hat; Babs, whose smile lights up the clouds. A celadon green with cherry blossom pot which Caustic found while shopping at the Flea Market in Reykjavik during a three week study trip, thanks to her friend Raggy who has not only shown amazing generosity to Caustic during her trips to Iceland, but who has also introduced her to other amazing people; the Sister in Borgarnes whose husband read the sagas after dinner and, at the time, Caustic was able to understand some small content, an experience so intense and wonderful it remains in the top layer of the memory; the friend who dyes wool in the old Icelandic style and has chickens and makes wonderful cake; the fishballs with Raggy’s grandson, and the wooden puzzles which took Caustic three visits to be able to solve; making rhubarb jam and rhubarb soup on a NeverEndingSunny day in June; drinking apple tea at the museum on a NeverSunnyRaining day in October. Oma’s old “brown betty” with a twist – gold leaves; can’t remember Oma ever drinking tea, just that horrible red wine in the big jug that, at Sunday dinners, was watered down with Sprite soda for the kids; Oma’s mayonaise-sugar-mustard salad dressing; best Apple Pie (and crust) ever; the Christmas Eve cookies and snacks after the Childrens Concert after which Caustic almost always got sick from the nerves of the concert and possibly mixing too many cookies and cake with good sommersausage.

And more. But you get the idea. Not only do the things remind Caustic of someone special, but the other someones and somethings associated with that person, most of which she doesn’t remember at all until she looks at the item and starts thinking, and the memories begin to come back. That Stuff. Each representing a plethora of blessings. An embarrassment of riches. Riches of the Real Sort, that never fade.