What Has Happened To My Soul Voice?

September 9, 2009

What happened to my soul voice?  What did happen to my soul voice?  Did my soul ever have a real voice in this lifetime?

Where did I learn to swallow my voice, to keep it inside, to allow myself no genuine expression?  When did I not only stop talking to others, but also to myself?

I know as a child I was to be seen and not heard, or terrible consequences would follow.  Terrible things often happened when I was neither seen nor heard, but that is another matter all together.

As a child among my peers, I may have been the joking laughing one, but it was mainly out of fear.  No one ever really heard the real me.  Or if they did, they didn’t listen.  Not to the real me.

I have spent my life, it seems, teaching people to reach into themselves, to honor themselves, to speak their own truths, but what have I done for me?

It took me too many years, too many men, bad relationships, well fine, two extremely horrible relationships that encompassed more of my entire life than I care to admit.

It took having children, not one but two, to rip my voice from my throat in defense of them.  Yet that was not my true soul voice.  That was the protective mama bear voice, defending her cubs from danger and harm.

I had to endure years of hatred and anger, not only at others, but at myself as well.  I had to battle my way through, fighting myself more than any other, blaming myself when I should have stood up to others.  I cried my way through the pain and the hurt and everything else.  I wallowed in fear.  It swept me up and over and swallowed me whole.  I had to learn to let go, let go, let go.  Trust in the Universe until I could trust in myself.

I am just now coming to that point where I am becoming able to have faith in myself, to believe in myself, to actually trust myself, my gut, my intuition, for myself.

It takes many years, or at least it has for me, to find that lost soul voice.  Having gone on unused for so many years, the only thing I can do now is slowly build up my voice again, until I can sing out loud, belt out a melody and bellow across the stars.

I am working my way there, one day at a time.  That’s all I can tell you for sure.


Opening The Door To That Bigger House

September 9, 2009

I am tired of not dreaming big enough.  I didn’t realize I was dreaming small.  All I know now is I want I must dream BIGGER.  And that begins right now right this minute.

What I really want is a big kitchen.  With a double sided sink, a garbage disposal, a sprayer.  Big double sinks, not small ones.  Something I can set the pans in to soak and the pans fit.  Lots of countertop space.  Lots of cabinet space.  A hanging rack for pots and pans.   Room for a butcher block.  Room for a big kitchen table.

A breakfast nook would be good, just somewhere for the family to meet and to be together.  A dining room would be nice, but is not necessary.  So long as there is space for the family dining table, I am good.   If we have room for a hutch or china cabinet or two, that would make it even better.

I want an actual separate laundry room.  It can be in the basement or whatever, but I don’t want to have to look at my washer and dryer or have them be part of my kitchen experience ever again.

I want to have a working fireplace.

I want a big bathroom, for the master bath.  A huge claw foot tub.  Something I can lie all the way down in and stretch out.  Something where the ceiling is taller than I am, so I can stretch and turn while I am under the spray.  I want there to be enough room in the shower for at least six or eight people.  Not that I ever want to have that many people in the shower with me; I merely want the space so I can dance or stretch or do yoga under the shower’s spray.  Or anything else that comes to mind.

It would be nice to have at least two bathrooms, what with all the kids running around.

I want tall ceilings.  I want plenty of headspace.  Vaulted ceilings more like the living room in the house in FS.  I want tons of windows in every room.  I want lots of natural light.

I want at least four bedrooms.  I want a full basement.  I want more than enough room for an office.  I want space for the exercise equipment.  I want space for my art studio.  I want plenty of storage space for all the yarn and fabric and other supplies I tend to collect.

I want big closets all over the house for everyone.  I want everyone to have plenty of space to grow and evolve and be themselves.

I want a big family room.  I want a decent living room.  I want lots of space for books and movies and anything else we need to have lots of room in the house.

I want an actual garage, a two car garage at that.  I want a patio in the back, all wooden and with a screen overhead, with plenty of room for a table and chairs.  I want a covered, maybe even screened in, front porch too.  It would be awesome if we could have a sun room somewhere too.

I want a big fenced in yard for the dogs and the kids.  If we could have a swing set or fort or something for the kids built in the back, which would be incredible.  I want the yard landscaped and wonderful.

I do not care for carpeting.  I want hardwood floors In every room except the kitchen and bathrooms.  There I would prefer tile or slate of something stone-like.


I Am No Longer Angry

September 9, 2009

I am no longer angry.

It is sort of a strange feeling.  I expected to feel anger, rage, seething resentment.  I have none of those emotions.

There is none of that.

I have a leaking roof.  Not just a roof, but a ceiling.  My bedroom ceiling leaks in no less than two places, one of which is right over my head.  After the last storms came through, the ceiling began to sag and grow interesting spore.  I called the man in charge of maintenance.  I did not expect any action to follow his words.  In the year we have lived here, he has yet to do anything even remotely close to keeping his word.  I am no longer surprised.

The Universe is speaking to me.  I know She is.  I hear Her.  She is quite persistent.  She is not loud or raucous or obnoxious.  She is merely consistently there, always telling me the same thing: this place is no longer right for me.

Last time I received that message, I was afraid.  I was more than afraid; I was terrified, mortified, insane with never-ending bouts of fear, and helpless anger.  It took me years to overcome that fear, and anger.  Letting go of anger is not easy for me.  It is an emotion that I know all too well.  I am used to it.  I wear my anger like fuzzy old slippers, carry it around with me as if it were my security blanket.  It’s true; my anger has been my security blanket for  far too long.  I am not really certain why that changed, other than the fact that I have changed, that I not only see things differently, I now look at them differently as well.

This time, I am hearing, move on, woman, move on.  I am not angry.  I am not afraid.  I still worry, oh yes.  Please do not get me wrong.  Nevertheless, the worries are not my main focus and obsession.  They are merely a fact of life.  There is always stress related to any move.  It is just a matter of course.  There is nothing I can do about that.  The only thing I can do is change the way I react, change the way I deal, change the way I metabolize and internalize things.  I have been working on that for years, for years.  It seems all my hard work really has begun to pay off.

I am more concerned about how to get to where we are going than I am worrying about where we are.  I am doing the best I can where I am, handling things to the best of my ability, working on the things that I can work on and letting the rest go until I can manage them.  I feel far more secure in myself, in my abilities, in my talents.  I feel far safer this go round.  I feel more grounded.  I know I am blessed.  I know when I truly have need of something, it will appear before me.  I am confident in my ability to recognize the opportunity when it comes before me and to grasp it with both hands, without greed, without jealousy, simply with acceptance and gratitude.

The journey to this space has been long and hard.  Too many years have gone into this moment.  I would be overjoyed and overly proud of myself, but I am genuinely not wired that way.  All I can do is take a step back and stare with mouth agape, in awe, and wonder if I can manage to maintain this attitude, come what may.  I certainly hope so.


The Best Banana Bread I Can Make

September 9, 2009

The Ingredients:

To make it Faery banana bread, add 4-6 droppers full of lavender spirits compound (liquid herbal extract-I use Herb Pharm).  It’s roughly 40-60 drops per dropper full.  You can add more or less as you like.

To make it delicious, but not necessarily strictly faery, although faeries will still eat it right up:

¾ cup softened butter

1-1/2 cup white sugar

1-1/2 cup brown sugar….or you can do 3 cups brown sugar, omitting the white sugar, or any combination thereof that appeals to you

4 eggs

6-8 ripe bananas, all squished and mashed and yummy

16 ounce sour cream

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 teaspoon maple syrup….or you can do 2 teaspoons vanilla, or 2 teaspoons maple syrup, either way, so long as there are two teaspoons of vanilla/maple syrup

4 teaspoons ground spices * of your choice (see below for more on this)

½ teaspoon salt

3 teaspoons baking soda

4-1/2 cups all-purpose flour

A note on spices:  I use a variety and combination of Chinese 5 spice powder, allspice, ginger, cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamom.  I often use a very scant pinch of tea masala as well.

The Assembly:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.  Grease your loaf pans.  I have two large glass loaf pans and one smaller metal loaf pan.  This recipe fills all three right up.  You can make four smaller loaves, two larger loaves, as you see fit.  Usually, I make up the three loaves and we are good.  This all depends on the size of your pans.  I never fill ours more than ¾ of the way up.

First, I combine all the wet ingredients and use an electric beater to pretty much liquefy everything as best as I can, to make sure all the lumps from butter and banana are combined.  Then I add the spices, salt, baking soda and stir it some more.  Next, I add the sugar, beat that in well.  Last comes the flour.  I try not to ‘over-stir’, but since I have no real idea what that means with banana bread, where I want to make sure everything is very well-combined, I make sure everything is combined and then keep mixing until I feel confident there will be no pockets of spice, or butter, or flour or anything that didn’t quite make it into the batter.

Divide batter into loaf pans.  Fill pans between ½=3/4 of the way full.  This bread does rise, although not amazingly so.

Bake for roughly an hour, an hour and twenty minutes.  When done, a knife through the center will come out clean.  Depending on your spices, the loaves may be rather dark, so do not always use that as a determining factor in doneness.

The Story:

When I was first married, I bought a copy of Fannie Farmer’s cookbook.  I didn’t really know much about cooking or baking or anything else, but I wanted to learn.  I wanted to be a good wife.  There was a recipe for banana bread in that book that when I made it, with very little tweaking, the banana bread was the most amazing, moistest, most delicious bread.  Everybody loved that bread.  After I got divorced, I tried to make the bread, using the same recipe, using all my normal tweaks.  It didn’t turn out.  Now, I’d made the bread all those years in AR.  We moved to MO and the bread didn’t bake right.  I tried again in MD, as well as WV.  It still didn’t bake right.  We think it may have something to do with the altitudes and humidities, as I had an issue with pancakes not fluffing up right in MO either, but as soon as we moved, the pancakes, made the exact same way in every state, were suddenly tall and fat and fluffy.

My children love banana bread, even if it is not tall and fluffy and overwhelming prize-wining delicious.  I make it often.  My daughter is known for buying bananas by the bunches, and letting them go brown on the counter rather than eating them.  For these kids not to eat a banana sitting in front of them is quite the trial.  I collect recipes.  I receive cookbooks and whatnot from all over.  I’ve been working for years to find a way to ‘fix’ that once wonderful banana bread recipe.

Then I found it, by fluke.  I was doing research on something else entirely (vegetarian samosas actually) and I found myself printing out a series of banana bread recipes.  I did what I normally do, combined them together and added my little tweaks.  Then I tweaked a bit more, changed things up a bit.  And bingo!  I found the right combination, which is the recipe you see above.

It is true that banana bread that sits overnight develops a more complex and interesting taste.  This is one reason I have to make at least three loaves.  The smaller of the three loaves never makes it til morning, unless I am baking at midnight.

This bread is light, fluffy, decadent and amazing.  The sour cream adds that whatever it is we’ve been missing all these years.  I have yet to find a better recipe.

A Note on Faery Food:

We love faery food in this household.  If I can say, this is faery whatever, I increase the likelihood of my ultra-finicky daughter eating it by a good ninety-nine percent, instantly.  My lavender spirits compound is a most amazing elixir.  I can drop a dropper full of lavender spirits into an instant pudding mix—voila, faery pudding.  I can drop a dropper full into a pre-made cupcake mix—voila, faery pudding.  You get the picture.  I have a recipe for candied lavender I plan to use one of these days.  I can’t wait.  In place of plain water or, some days, even milk, I can use jasmine tea, or chrysanthemum tea, or rose tea.  I use rose petals and lavender petals fairly interchangeably.  I’ve made plain old shortbread cookies, with ground lavender and/or ground rose petals.  I first talked the girl into trying taco meat by adding ground lavender to the meat as it fried and cooked.  Whatever it takes to entice the wee faery in us all, as well as those around us, then I am happy to oblige.


Peeling The Onion

September 5, 2009

onion1

As I read Women Who Run With The Wolves by Clariss Pinkola Estes, I have been having a great deal of ’stuff’ come up.  I haven’t been certain until today exactly where to post some of the ’stuff’.

Since every step is drawing me deeper into myself and making me more aware of what I want and need in my life, I am going to classify it as “Home Work”, so I will be storing it here, along with the rest of the things I lay at Hestia’s Feet.

My search through my self is also my search for my Hearth.

These are some very rudimentary sketches I did before writing the next few pieces I will be posting.

onion2


Trying To Capture That Feeling

August 31, 2009

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I spent about an hour, playing with markers and pencils, trying to recreate the one image that for some reason means Home to me…that red tree in the picture there…I had scribbled it mindlessly a couple years ago in a notebook…probably doodling while on the phone or something…..here are the prototypes…some have gone on and become finished pieces that will be displayed…elsewhere…but here is my Dig Tree Progress….and part of my journey towards finding Home….


New Art Journal Begun

August 31, 2009

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I am in the process of taking so many journeys that I need guide books for each along the way, or so it seems….here is the start of my Hestia’s Hearth Journey as we search out our new abode….there is not much in it….yet…but I plan on it being filled…one of these days…as we find our Home…as we create our own rituals and happy places….and I look forward to that as well….


Let’s Make Faery Bread

August 25, 2009

Bread (2)

Let’s make faery bread.

Here’s why we are making faery bread today.  We are in the process of trying to find a new Home.  When I think of Home, the first thing that comes to mind is my mother pounding away on the dough of a loaf of homemade bread.  Making bread was her therapy, not to mention everyone in the family loved it.  From the smell that invaded every corner of the house, to the melt in your mouth sinfulness as fresh from the oven slathered with butter slabs of bread hit your tongue.

I invoke the goddess Hestia with every meal I cook, even if it is to throw a can of soup in a bowl and stick it in the microwave.  I am a Hearth-Crafter.  I prefer to make my meals from scratch, even when it seems there is not enough time for a full-blown ‘to do’.  My children, as yet, have no appreciation for the things I love to cook and to eat.  I love to bake.  I love to make chili.  I love to make thick rich stews and traditional soups.  I even love to pan fry potatoes and serve them up with every meal you can think of, just as my grandmother always used to do.

Today, as we invite the goddess Hestia to sit with us, to help us as we seek a new abode, as we give thanks to all Her blessings that have touched us thus far in our journey through life, we make the one thing that always makes me think of family, that everyone in my family will eat without griping or argument or quarrel, other than to make sure they get their fair share of things.  That alone is worth making my own bread.

Now, usually I use a bread-maker to make my bread.  Technically, I use two bread-makers at the same time, because bread goes that fast around here when I make it.  This recipe can be converted to a non-machine recipe.  I will tell you how at the end of the bread machine version.

First, the ingredients.

When I was a young girl, I asked my mother how she made her bread.  She frustrated and stymied me by saying she’d been making bread for so long she just knew.  There were no measurements for what she did.  There was flour and sugar and water and yeast and salt.  There was nothing for me to follow, except the flow of her hands and arms as she kneaded away.  I learned to cook and to bake and to make bread from books.  Although the desire to be as good as my mother and to never need a cookbook always spurred me on, and still does to this day.

Here we are in a place where I sort of do the same thing now as my mother when it comes to a basic white bread.  Although I will do my best to give you more guidance.

You will need 1-1/2 cups of lukewarm, body temperature water.  The kind of water that when it hits the skin of the inside of your wrist, you barely feel it, or it might be just a little bit warmer than your skin.  About the same temperature as a baby’s bottle before you feed the baby.  Depending on your room, since it is summer here and is almost too hot for me to say this, room temperature is normally good.  We have also made rose tea and used the tea in place of water.  Any flowery tea works well here and only adds to the faery aspect of the bread.  Chrysanthemum tea.  Jasmine tea.  Feel free to experiment.

You will also need a tablespoon or two of sugar.  It can be white sugar or brown sugar.  We’ve used cubed sugar, cane sugar, even confectioners sugar one time-although I don’t remember why now.  Probably at the behest of one child or the other, just to see what would happen.

Roughly two tablespoons of olive oil.

Roughly a teaspoon of salt.

Lavender or other derivative of any and all flowers.  Before I had children, I would use rose petals, frequently from my own garden, which I processed in the food processor before adding to my dough.  If using dried lavender, I normally use about three tablespoons.  These days, with my children, I use lavender supplements.  I take three capsules, empty the powder into the machine, and toss the gelatin capsules away.  Although we have done it, with children helping, where you simply throw in three capsules as is and walk away.  That turned out fine too.

I also have a bottle of ‘lavender spirits’ which is a blend of lavender oil, cinnamon oil, clove oil, and so on.  It is a tincture.  I usually use 30 or so drops of this when I use it to make bread.  I try not to mix tinctures with dried herbs or fresh herbs.  I try to stick with one or the other, rather than combining them.  But please feel free to experiment.

Roughly four cups of plain white flour.  You can mix this up by doing half wheat, half white, or any other number of combinations with different flours.  So long as there is about four cups all together, you should be good.

I have a daughter who will not touch a piece of bread if she can see anything in it…not a seed, not a speck, not anything that looks ‘un’bread-like’, like oats dappling the crust or flax seeds in the bread itself.  So, lately I tend to use white flour—although when I get the chance I prefer oat flour mixed with the white.  I love to use flax, but it has to be ground into a flour too before I can use it with my daughter.  Think outside the box with your flour combinations.  Do keep in mind, different types of flour have different qualities. Some flours are heavier than others and produce a weightier loaf of bread.

Roughly a teaspoon and a half of yeast.

If you are using a machine, dump everything into your machine in the order stated: water, sugar, oil, herbs/flowers, salt, flour, yeast.

If you want your machine to do all the work, set it on your favorite basic setting Light, medium, dark-we usually use medium ourselves, so my daughter is sure where the crust starts and stops.  She is not a crust eater either. At least, not usually.  If you are using wheat flour, or anything that needs a different setting, please do what is best for that flour.  My machine has wheat settings, so that makes it easy for me.

If you want to do some of the work, which I do fairly frequently, you set your machine to the dough cycle and let it go.  Once your machine beeps, you pull it out, knead it, punch it down, all that happy stuff.  Grease your bread baking containers and go to town.  Sometimes I will braid the bread.  Sometimes I will make long thin loaves, like baguettes or thicker Italian loaves.  Sometimes I make round loaves.  It depends on the mood.  You have to cover and let these loaves rise until nearly double in size before baking.  Anywhere from an hour to two hours, depending on your flour and technique and everything else.  Then you put that into an oven at 350 degrees F for roughly an hour.  This is for white flour bread.  You may need to bake it longer—or maybe even for less time—depending on your flours used.  Or not.  Keep an eye on it as it bakes.  Bread is done when you knock on it and it sounds hollow inside.  Although with different flours, you still need to be careful, because that doesn’t always work.

If you want to do everything yourself?

Combine the water and the sugar and stir.  Add the yeast and let it bubble.  Add flour, oil, salt, herbs/flowers into a big bowl.  Add the water/sugar/yeast mixture.  Combine.  By hand here is usually best for me, but it is not the only way to do it either.

Here is a note for everyone though:  keep an eye on your dough.  It should be slightly tacky to the touch and have a satiny smooth appearance by the time you are done combining all the basic ingredients.  I tend to hover over my machine to make sure the consistency is correct.  Add more flour if you need to – or add more water.  Water it takes to make the dough work for you.  The dough should be smooth and elastic.  Once that is achieved, set your dough in a large bowl and cover it.  If the space is slightly warm, that’s good.  Once that has double in bulk, anywhere from an hour to two, depending on various factors, dump it out onto your work area and knead the dough down.  You can separate this into two loaves, or more, or less, or braid it or twist it or whatever you want.  See the above directions for baking.  A 350 degree F oven for roughly an hour, depending on the flours you used.

My daughter loves to have her bread, as hot from the oven or machine as she can get it.  Real butter or margarine dripping all over the place.  We have some lavender honey here, which my daughter finds most fascinating.  I will eat the honey on my bread.  She prefers to eat hers with a spoon from a bowl.  We like to have tea with our bread.  If you used flowery tea to make the bread, sipping a cup of the same stuff while nibbling your bread is lovely.  We always set some of the bread, with butter and honey, outside on a plate for the faeries to come partake.  This does include a small saucer of sweetened tea as well.

Enjoy.

If I have been unclear, or if I have left out any information, please contact me and I will correct things immediately.  Thank you.