STORIES (76-100).....from the road

Story #78.....THE GREAT BREAD-MAKING FIASCO.....Quartzsite, Arizona (11/8/09)

    I had been considering taking up making bread again -- ever since my friend Charlie talked about his bread-baking machine in his emails. In my mind (but not to Charlie), I pooh-poohed bread-making machines as too easy and missing the benefits of baking bread from scratch, especially venting one's frustrations by kneading the dough. I baked bread from scratch years ago and was eventually able to make bread without a recipe -- just doing it by feel and throwing in all sorts of different flours.
    But baking bread from scratch just ain't happenin' now: all that flour, all that time, all that mess, all that cleaning up. Even though baking bread in an conventional oven sends a tantalizing aroma through the air, the bread machine won out. When I accidentally walked into the Parker Senior Center rummage sale, I knew it was meant to be. There it was: a bread machine with a sign that said $10. Without prompting, the woman said, "But I'll take $8.00." When asked, she assured me it had only been used a couple of times.
    Being a life-long rummage sale person, I said, "Don't sell it yet and walked around the rest of the tables," but I knew I WANTED that bread machine. I sidled nonchalantly back over and went through my wallet. When I asked why she was selling it, she said she had two. "Well, I've got a $5.00 bill, or I can write a check for $8.00." SOLD for $5.00 -- just the machine; no instruction booklet.
    I could hardly wait to get home to email Charlie about my good fortune and to ask for his healthiest bread recipe. Meanwhile, I found a basic bread recipe on the internet; so I made that. The recipe was pretty explicit: a list of ingredients and step-by-step instructions as to what to put in the bread machine and in what order. The instructions even told me what to do if I wasn't sure my yeast from last year was still active. It wasn't, but fortunately I had the foresight to purchase some bread-machine yeast on sale.
    I also used up all my old flour (oat, soy, whole wheat, and millet). So, with all the ingredients in the bread machine, I accepted the challenge to operate it without instructions -- a REAL challenge for a right-brain person. (Although a woman alone in this day and age better learn some left-brain techniques pronto.) I repeated to myself: "Remain calm and read," which is exactly the same advice I give people who have trouble with computers.
    Surprise, surprise! It was FUN! I looked at the dial and pushed the select button several times until it reached "whole wheat." Then I pushed the up and down arrows above light and dark. Lastly I pushed the start button, and it worked! Joy of joys! The machine is so smart it not only tells you how much time is left before the bread is done but when it's kneading, resting, rising, and baking. After about three hours of waiting impatiently, I reaped my reward of a thick slice of hot bread slathered with butter. HEAVEN! Right then and there I vowed never to eat store-bought (or even bakery) bread again: no additives, no artifical anything -- just wholesome, healthy goodness for as long as you can make it last.
    The bread was delicious though a bit dense. When I compared my recipe to Charlie's, I discovered mine had no oil. All the other recipes I checked had oil too. Soooooooo, I made Charlie's recipe yesterday, and that's where the title of this story comes in. I noticed his called for more flour, and since my last loaf did not fill the pan, I figured I was safe. WRONG! Even before the dough reached the "rising" phase, it was nearing the top of the container. I spent a rather anxious couple of hours peeking inside as the bread approached the top of the pan, nearing the lid. Maybe that's why the bread sank in the middle. Then I smelled a burning smell and smoke was coming out of the machine. I persevered, keeping my fire extinguisher handy. I thought even if the bread turns out, the smell of smoke would have permeated the whole loaf.
    Finally the bread was done, but when I went to grab the handle, it was stuck to the side with baked on dough. I broke off the top crust and pryed the handle up. As I removed the bread from the machine, I noticed a big burn spot inside the machine and more burned bread on the outside of the baking container. To get the bread out of the pan, I had to break off the crust all around the top. I sliced a piece off the "good" end -- the end that hadn't sunk. It was OK; actually it was better than OK. It was delicious: lighter than my previous loaf and best of all no burn smell.
    So I chalked it all up to a learning experience. I bought three bags of organic, whole-wheat flour on sale; so I'm definitely into bread making. I'm going to look for different kinds of flour too. Apparently, from my recent experience, it is hard to go wrong when making bread! And now that I am an experienced bread maker, I think I'll try a green chili and cheese next. I'm sure it will be absolutely PERFECT!

Story #77.....YOU CAN GO HOME AGAIN.....Quartzsite, Arizona 10/21/09

    I always worry a bit whether I'll love Quartzsite as much after traveling for five months (Kanab, Utah including the Coral Pink Sand Dunes and Best Friends Animal Sanctuary; Zion National Park!; and two months house sitting in Albuquerque, NM) -- experiencing all the activities bigger cities have to offer.......but all I needed to remind me was the lovely sunset my first evening back!
    And this morning while having breakfast on my porch with an unobstructed view of the desert, a bird tilting almost upside down to sip water from the bird bath (returning to an upright position to swallow); more birds pecking away at the newly-filled bird feeder which hangs from a branch of the tall, green tree -- beautiful yet functional with the shade it provides. There are doves on the ground under the bird feeder, grateful for the seeds other birds knock to the ground. A bunny drinks from the water bowl, and just at dawn I noticed several quail singing their easily-recognized song as they scurried across the yard.
    The desert (and my front yard) are a brown, gravelly dirt -- no grass here, but there are splotches of green across the desert. The desert plants in my yard are a lush green, an oasis in the desert. There are about fifty aloe plants across the entire front, which I thinned last year, so thick from years of being ignored that one plant turned into three. The three tall saguaros are standing tall as is the 12-foot-high ocotillo, my favorite desert plant with its spindly arms, red tassels at the tips, reaching to the sky. There is a plump, boxing-glove cholla covered with needles, but my favorite is a tree with an oriental feel: tiny, fringed leaves like a mimosa and delicate yellow flowers with a red center like tiny orchids in the spring. Best of all, it is a volunteer, choosing to live with me in my yard of its own accord.
    So these last few days I have been arranging the porch furniture (so I can sit between chores), pruning the yard and cleaning up the debris, unloading my camper, and cleaning house after a five-month absence -- surprisingly enjoying it all. This is balanced out by sitting on my porch, looking across the desert to the mountains, and just letting the peacefulness and wonder of this place soak in. I often refer to my winter home as my desert paradise, and once again that has proved to be true.

    Y'all come..............gypsy jane

Story # 76.....A LETTER FROM THREE CATS....Albuquerque, New Mexico 10/12/08

I have been house sitting more and more lately. My last "job" (because I don't charge) was in Albuquerque, New Mexico while the owners volunteered for the New Orleans clean-up. It involved caring for three cats and all that goes along with that: food, water, lotsa petting, cleaning the cat box, and yes, cleaning up cat vomit (and almost my own); watering several outdoor plant pots; watering five indoor plants; and mastering the home security system and color TV. The benefits were all the tomatoes and raspberries I could eat from the garden, cat company, watching the color TV, and the gift of a whole apple pie and a slice of pecan from Lea's Restaurant just outside New Orleans. Oh yeah, and a bathroom! Here is an email the cats wrote:

October 8, 2008
Albuquerque, New Mexico

Dear Mom & Pop,

    Just a quick note to let you know we three cats are doing fine, but WE MISS YOU and all the wonderful attention you give us. We hope your stay in New Orleans is going well and that you will soon be home to spoil us.
    Everything is OK at home. Jane says to tell you the TV works, and she hasn't set the house alarm off yet. Both those systems seem easy to operate now.
    Jane is going to the Unitarian potluck tonight. Guess what? She's taking tomatoes from your garden sprinkled with chopped chives also from your garden. There are LOTS of tomatoes -- some really big ones. There was a hard rain all night on Saturday (canceling the balloon fiesta Saturday afternoon and Sunday) and splitting most of the small tomatoes. So the outdoor pots got lots of water, but she had to hand water the indoor ones. Jane got two handfuls of raspberries and ate them right in the garden. Delicious!

News:

PINQUE (male cat, age two): I am the official welcoming committee and greet Jane at the door when she arrives. Then I hang around for all the petting I can get. Have I been diagnosed with ADD yet?

CLAWDIA (female cat, age 15): Jane and I have bonded! I sit patiently in the chair next to her while she eats, in hopes of getting a tidbit. (I usually do!). I talk to her, and she understands cat language quite well for a human bean. Lately I have been curling up on her lap when she watches TV.

SMOKEY (male cat, age two): Sometimes I come out of hiding when Jane is here but not for long. I don't know her that well yet. I am pleased, however, that she checks the food and water each day and cleans the cat boxes.

JANE (female person, age withheld): I taught the exercise class yesterday at the Senior Center and will teach again tomorrow as the instructor is ill. I loved it!

LUV,

Your cat children (as dictated to Jane).
(Our paws are just too big for the keyboard.)

"There is an Indian legend which says when a human dies there is a bridge they must cross to enter into heaven. At the head of that bridge waits every animal that human encountered during their lifetime. The animals, based upon what they know of this person, decide which humans may cross the bridge and which are turned away..."--Unknown