When D went to the naturopath last week (a new thing for him to go to a naturopath for himself), she said he was of a constitution to need much more red meat -- specifically beef. Since I mostly give him tofu and fish, this presented a problem. I haven't eaten beef in 30 years and had been refusing to cook beef here inside the house (even though I've been cooking a lot of bacon this year).
But now is a time for many changes. I went across town today to procure a really good cut of meat from a cow that had a very healthy life. Tomorrow I will make pot roast in a cast iron dutch oven that my mother gave me (which I haven't used yet because I wasn't looking forward to deep-cleaning all spiritual residue of animal flesh that had been cooked in it). My mother used to make very good pot roast in this pot, and she's given me all of her tricks. The roast will be very good, I imagine.
So today I took care of myself and made a pot of beans for me to eat the rest of the week -- black beans, red beans, pinto beans cooked to perfection in the bean pot, in the oven. I can't say enough good things about this method of making beans. They are perfect beans, so easy, and so deeply flavored because they relax in the oven for hours. D and I had these beans for dinner, and now I'm turning some of the cooked beans into a spicy chili for me. I added some of the leftover pulp from this summer's tomato-juice-making, and I'm going to let it simmer all night. I enjoyed making the chili as spicy as I want it to be, and I look forward to having this around while they're eating leftover pot roast through the weekend.
I can't help my reasons for not eating red meat. They aren't political. I just feel very squeamish. I do feel a strong (perhaps political) need to make sure that we buy healthy meat if we buy it. It was no issue for me to drive across town for this meat. I was sad that New Seasons was out of rump roast for the next week or so, but I had no problem calling around and finding it elsewhere. If we will be cooking more beef around here (and that's probably cheaper and better in the long run for David and Ellie if they get deep nourishment from food that makes them feel good), then I'm glad to scope out places from which to procure healthy meat.
It's a big deal for me to cook this thing tomorrow, though. My friends have heard about the "beef issue" for a couple of months because D has been pining for a pot roast all autumn. I came up with all sorts of ideas like "Maybe you could cook it at your mom's house!" When the time of big changes began last week, I realized I needed to accomodate others more. I realized that I'd be happy to designate my mom's dutch oven and my pressure cooker to any of D's meat needs (I make beans in the oven, after all, and don't need a regular pressure cooker anymore). He can continue to use the BBQ for steaks and anything else.
I have never been more prepared to make a dish than this pot roast. I have talked and talked and talked it over with everyone I know. I have learned all of my mother's tricks. I remember (fondly, in fact) how my mother's pot roast tasted, and I know I can coax every possible goodness from the healthy meat, organic vegetables, good stock and good wine that I will use.
So this is how I will say good bye to 2009... In this year, I still grieved my cousin who died late last year. My dad died . I had to make my own funeral for my father. My mother shut down and shut me out. My brother exploded in grief and rage. I burned the journals. We had profound issues with E's school/her changing needs and had to delve deeply within ourselves in order to solve them positively (and this was a subject I couldn't write about here because it involved others here in the community, but we're incredibly grateful for how the issues were worked out in the end). D's work situation went from toxic to worse and then to lay-off (another subject I didn't feel able to write about here but that colored the last two years in miserable shades of angst). I gardened and learned how to make real pickles. I even taught a few nice people how to preserve and to ferment. I made a vine-cage! I learned how to say no, and I learned how to give my daughter space to be herself. I learned how to be grateful for big, hard changes -- even death -- because there's some freedom to be found even when beloved people/things/situations fall away. I learned how to be stay in the present moment.
To acknowledge all of this, I will cook pot roast for D, E and my mother-in-law tomorrow, and I will marvel at what is now okay with me.
Tonight I burned 35 years of paper journals, letters, and articles from newspapers and magazines that had an immediate association with me.
It felt good. I burned tortured and stupid letters. I burned the beautiful journals full of pain and pictures (crayon) that I made with my left hand (nondominant) while I was doing really hard therapy. I burned the pages where the hidden parts of me and memories first emerged.
Tonight I set fire to pages and pages that screamed I WANT TO BE RELEASED FROM THIS PAIN.
The great thing about tonight is that the candles remained lit through the rain and wind. I set up candles and incense in each direction and put the main Kali candle in the North tonight. There was rain and wind, but all of the candles kept their fire for more than an hour. Outside. In the garden. While the wind blew around.
I felt heard by the Universe as I let go of all of this tortured stuff that weighed me down.
Done with it now. Done.
We're going to spend next week in Hawaii.
I'm not going to do much -- just read, swim, walk, and relax.
Have a good week, friends. I'll be back here after Labor Day.
I went on a short walk this morning and saw my neighbor's Granny Smith apple tree. She gave us 60 pounds of apples from this tree, and they used much more themselves, but -- as you can see in the photo -- it's still loaded with pretty green orbs. (Forgive my photography.)
What you can't see from this photo is that the tree is filled with about 20 happy red-breasted robins who are eating the apples and having a raucus holiday party. I just stood there in the snow and watched them for the longest time. The whole area smells like apple pie because the the apples froze during the snow, expanded, and split their skin.
Last week when I walked by, I squeezed one of the apples left on the tree and felt bad that they were "ruined" from the ice. This morning I realized that the freezing, expansion, and decay of the apples softened them up enough so that today the birds can perch on ice-covered branches and gorge out on the fruit. The world is a wonder, and I need to keep my heart open to all of the different ways the Earth provides.
Here is a close-up of my teacher-friend, the Evereste crabapple outside the creating room. It's in its second year here and grew hundreds of cheery little crabapples. They're pretty in the snow.
I'm going to continue focusing my plant studies on apples, roses, hawthorn, and yarrow this coming year. I'm still very drawn to all of them and feel there's still so much to learn from them. Other herbalists change focus plants each year, but these four teachers have told me I'm not ready to graduate yet. Lucky me!
Merry green and red apples to you!
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