Party for One

 In the writing cave

Rain drums the roof

Fire lights up the hearth

Kettle sings for tea

Fingers dance across a keyboard

Words jive, spin and dive towards home 

Recovering Memories

 Original Publication, Methow Valley News, September 23, 2020

When we evacuate, if there is time, I grab an irreplaceable family heirloom: a small doll with a crude button face, a dress made of tartan rags wrapped about a body formed by the wishbone of a hen. A small card tied about her neck bears a handwritten poem. In the tiny box with the tiny doll is a note written on onionskin paper.

My great-grandmother’s handwriting details the doll’s origins, tracing our family lines. When my parents passed away, their friends and family graciously sent me mementos that they thought I should have to remember my parents: photographs, stories, jewelry, tools — items that had an emotional and physical connection to my parents.

Woven baskets from this region have a similar meaning. Family origins and storylines are woven into the pattern with different colors, different plant materials. To make these artful and utilitarian baskets is no small feat. The process of gathering traditional materials of cedar root and wild cherry bark is increasingly restricted by property owners.

Construction and agricultural activities damage traditional areas where materials were once gathered. Between cultural changes that made weaving no longer a necessity, and landscape changes that limit weaving resources, the art and practice of Native American weaving is in danger of becoming a lost art. These family heirlooms are cultural artifacts, precious evidence of utilitarian practices and art of the first people who lived in their traditional homeland, the Methow Valley.

Labor Day fires burned more than just homes on the Colville Reservation. The fires moved so quickly that families had no time to save their own family heirlooms, cultural artifacts passed down through generations of the Methow people. The loss of home and hearth has a significant impact on elders’ health, livelihood, and capacity to pass on their language, traditions, and skills. For many years, these community members and Methow descendants have graciously and generously shared their stories with the Methow Valley Interpretive Center — helping to build educational bridges. They have given us a rich experience and education about this place and the people who came before us. Now, we must give back and support these elders.

Monetary donations can be made to the Methow Valley Interpretive Center earmarked as “Fire Relief.” All fire relief donations go directly to families in need. Information on how to donate can be found at www.methowvalleyinterpretivecenter.com. Please also consider cultural items that may be someone else’s family heirloom, and how much that would mean to the recipient.

A reminder: Peak bird migration is August-October. The National Audubon Society encourages people to help birds and reduce nighttime light pollution by turning out all unnecessary lights from 11 p.m. to 6 a.m. The Methow Dark Sky Coalition urges people to protect our night sky with environmentally responsible lighting by following International Dark-Sky Association guidelines for outdoor lighting. Be a good neighbor by protecting our dark skies. For information, see http://www.methowdarksky.org.

 

State Flower, State Tree, State Monster

Original publication, Methow Valley News, September 16, 2020

Conversations overheard at the bakery:

Him: We should probably get something for them.

Her: Honey, they don’t eat like us, not remotely anything like what we eat.

Him: You’re right, something with lots of seeds, then…

Also overheard at the bakery:

Him: I think we should get one of everything.

Her: We were sent here for breakfast burritos. Focus on the mission.

Him: That chocolate éclair looks like a burrito.

In other news, Washington state has a state flower, a state tree, and a state monster. On Aug. 26, 1970, Gov. Dan Evans issued this proclamation:

“Whereas, recent developments have shown that Washington State has only one true mysterious monster, the Great Sasquatch, and it is endangered of imminent extinction, and

“Whereas, we are the only state which is able to claim the Sasquatch as our own, Now, therefore, I Daniel J. Evans, by virtue and authority vested in me by RCW 00.00.000 do proclaim all Sasquachii within the border of our great state (and anywhere else) protected as a Washington State resource and be hereafter, the Official State Monster.”

For the trivia win: Bigfoot is the only state monster to ever have his very own syndicated TV show.

At my other job with the Bear Fight Institute, I open the mail. I do other highfalutin things, but the singular task of opening mail is germane to this story. (Side note: the Bear Fight Institute does not deal with the sparrings of ursae. The institute is a collaboration of scientists conducting planetary research.) An airmail letter from Britain contained a handwritten note requesting a professional opinion on the existence of the Loch Ness monster. I regret that I did not reply, “Dear Sir, as a research institute located in the Pacific Northwest, we can only speak on issues relating to Bigfoot.” That would have been a hairy tall tale, as the scientists at the Bear Fight Institute study geographic features, not mythical monsters.

In Barbara Davidson’s “The American Bestiary: The Most Famous Mythical Creature of Every U.S. State, Illustrated,” every state monster receives an illustrated caricature with a short biographical origin story. Included in “The American Bestiary” is a well-known monster from my childhood summer camp: Sharlie, a dinosaur-like creature dwelling beneath the waters of Payette Lake. Camp counselors would tell hushed and urgent tales of Sharlie, and why campers should never go swimming alone. Tell a kid not to go swimming alone because it’s “not safe” and they will ignore the boring adult instruction. Tell campers a mythical dragon snatches children down to a dark watery cave, and kids will religiously use the buddy system when swimming — not for safety, but to torture each other by screaming, “something just touched my leg!”

In winter, the McCall Ice Carnival always has a Sharlie carved in ice — a friendly-looking dragon, the length of frozen scales and claws looping the length of a city block, glistening in the winter sun.

Wyoming’s mythical creature is the jackalope. As the origin story goes, some guy (it’s always “some guy”) mounted antelope antlers atop a stuffed bunny and the bar décor became trendy. The viral myth has roots in a virus. Rabbits are susceptible to the Shope papillomavirus that causes carcinomas on the head and face. Carl Zimmer documents the virus in “A Planet of Viruses” — light reading about real monsters that will kill you. Fun trivia fact: There are more viruses than stars in the universe. I am never leaving the house… unless lured by a chocolate éclair from Cinnamon Twisp Bakery.

Sue Misao took another walkabout, gifting the world with this informative gem: https://www.heraldnet.com/news/not-all-who-wander-are-lost-but-we-definitely-were-and-are.

  

Summer Dinner in the Rain

Original publication, Methow Valley News, August 26, 2020

Petrichor [pet-ri-kawr]: the earthy scent produced when rain falls on dry soil. From Greek petros, "stone", and ichor, the ethereal fluid that flows in the veins of the gods in classical Greek mythology. As I am writing this column late on a Friday afternoon, the aroma of petrichor blows through the window carried by late summer winds. September rains cannot come soon enough. 

A friend noted that while she lived in the deep south there was never the smell of petrichor when it rained. Perhaps because the southern soil is perpetually drenched by humid blankets of air from ocean currents, and there is no dry soil to release sighs of petrichor when raindrops fall. 

While southern air may be heavy, Pacific Northwest gardens benefit from long summer days. The vines droop with the weight of ripened tomatoes, squash, and beans, while branches bend beneath the weight of juicy peaches. 

Summer dinners are seasonal feasts. It begins with a plate of sliced tomatoes atop thick slices of mozzarella, drizzled with balsamic vinegar and topped with torn basil. Next come meatballs, made with two cups of finely shredded zucchini, a grated shallot, half a cup of panko bread crumbs, one teaspoon of red pepper flakes, one pound of ground turkey, a handful of chopped fresh herbs: mint, basil, parsley, dill, oregano, the juice from a large lemon, and half a cup of feta cheese. The meatballs are drizzled with olive oil prior to baking at 425 degrees Fahrenheit for 30 minutes, and served wrapped in warm pita bread topped with a cucumber dill yogurt sauce. A side of colorful roasted vegetables from the garden, drizzled with oil, topped with feta and herbs complete the meal. 

Barbara Kingsolver’s book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle contains a staple zucchini dish: Disappearing Zucchini Orzo. This works well as a warm side dish, or a cold pasta salad, or in a bowl all by itself. Cook up a pound of orzo pasta according to package directions. Shred 3 zucchini, an onion, and 2 cloves of garlic. Saute the vegetables in olive oil and butter until golden and translucent. Finely grate a half cup of parmesan, and toss together with the pasta and sauted vegetables. Top with freshly chopped thyme and oregano, salt and pepper to taste. 

For dessert, a peach ginger crumble comes together with barely any effort. Remove skins and pits from a dozen peaches. Thinly slice peaches and place in 9”x9” baking dish. Peel two inches of gingerroot and using a zester, finely grate the gingerroot over the peaches. Sprinkle with a bit of cinnamon and nutmeg. Toss to combine. Pour a half cup of honey over the peaches and stir to combine. Pour two cups of quick cooking rolled oats over the peach mixture, spreading evenly. Top the oats with three quarter cups of loose brown sugar, in an even layer. Thinly slice a stick of cold butter and place the slices atop the brown sugar. Bake at 425 degrees Fahrenheit for 30 minutes, until the oat topping is browned and peaches are bubbly. 

 

Book Review: The Fire Next Time, James Baldwin

As I consider how far America has come in sixty years, and how far we have yet to actualize the ideals listed in the Constitution and Bill of Rights, one singular image is burned into my mind. Little Ruby Bridges, escorted by federal marshals to her first day of kindergarten at a newly desegregated elementary school in 1960 New Orleans. She looks like every other kindergartener: smaller than the school bag she carries, with a button nose and chubby cheeks of a baby, stepping out into the big wide world. Her hairbow is most prominent as she looks down, her little feet stepping down those big steps. 

I want to rush up those steps and scoop her into my arms, hiding her face in my shoulder so she doesn’t see the crowds of other white women hurling objects at her and yelling ugly words. I felt this even more strongly as images of my hometown from last week portrayed white adults physically assaulting young protesters who were peacefully requesting an end systemic racism. I often think about what Ruby Bridge’s mother must have felt that first day of school… in addition to the fear, I know her mother felt an overwhelming sense of awe, love, and pride in that little girl who held her head up and returned to school day after day, walking through those crowds with the federal marshals at her side. 

Little Ruby Bridges grew into a strong woman with a large voice that she uses to this day to continue to advocate for civil rights. 

In his essay, “The Fire Next Time”, writer James Baldwin touches upon the strength that Ruby displayed at such a tender age. He states that generations of Black Americans surviving the worst that life had to offer had born, “children of kindergarten age who can walk through mobs to get to school.”

The title of Baldwin’s essay is from a slave song, “God gave Noah the rainbow sign, No more water, the fire next time!” His essay opens with a letter to his nephew, also named James. The letter is a map for his nephew to navigate a white America as a young black man. The second part of the essay is a letter from the writer describing his own navigational journey. Harassed and abused by police when he was ten, young James finds security in a life devoted to the church, and enters the ministry. His essay examines the roles Christianity and Islam played during the civil rights movement, and in slavery and oppression. Through hardship, black Americans rose above fear and moved forward with love and grace. The overarching message is change is messy, and requires all citizens to stand up and make their voices heard in unity. At 100 pages, the essay is bit longer than most, and requires a quiet mind to listen. At once historical and timely, “The Fire Next Time” provides context for civil right actions today.

 

Peruvian Chicken and Roasted Corn Salad

While in Peru, we ate well at every single meal. This one sheet pan meal is an easy, flavorful dinner that combines roasted chicken, potatoes, and a roasted corn salad all on one pan.

You will need:
Four chicken thighs or two chicken breasts
1 lb multi-colored fingerling potatoes
1 ear of corn (or 1/2 cup frozen corn kernels, thawed and squeezed dry)
1 small onion
1 red bell pepper
2-3 jalepeno peppers
Chili seasoning and olive oil


Green sauce:
1 bunch cilantro
1 bunch mint
1 lime
Oil, salt, pepper

Heat oven to 400 degrees F. Slice potatoes into quarters, toss with olive oil and chili seasoning and spread on one side of pan. Oil and season chicken, place in center of pan. Place pan in preheated oven for 10 minutes.

Slice corn from ear, and chop remaining vegetables to the same size as the corn kernels. Toss with olive oil and chili seasoning. Remove chicken and potatoes from oven, spread corn and pepper salad on other side of sheet pan and return to oven for 20 minutes to cook the roasted corn/pepper salad and continue roasting the potatoes and chicken.

Place cilantro and mint leaves in blender. Zest the lime. Add the zest and juice of the lime to the blender. Sprinkle in salt and pepper to taste. Drizzle in olive oil while blending until sauce reaches desired consistency. Serve over roasted chicken and potatoes.

Poem for Mary

For Mary

Solvitur Ambulando,

A heavy heart embraced by storm clouds

A head full of bees, seeking tranquility

It is solved by walking

Where mountain peaks touch the sky

Brush the rain from the clouds

Droplets, rivulets, connecting streams

From mountains arteries, sweet water flows

Treetops sway in the breeze

Aspen leaves applaud the morning light

Meadow larks sing the bees to sleep

Mountain bluebirds discern undulating grasses

Arrowleaf and lupine master the hillsides

Sage butter cups, spring beauties

Burst forth, assimilating the forest floor

Leaves absorb sunlight, roots deeply penetrate rich soil

Nxwenax wenanamx

Wenatchi - to comprehend, to understand

Footprints writ upon the forest floor

The forest knows, it knows the soul