Castor and Pollux, blow me to Bermuda!

Bermuda is absolutely charming. From the customs official (picture Emily with black hair and coffee colored skin) who chatted with us about the rain we missed earlier in the day, to the security guard who directed us to go back past Customs to the restroom because “This one is out of order, and where are you going? Southampton? That is too far to wait,” to our landlady who offered to drive us to the grocery store, by way of the post office to get our bus passes (unlimited bus & ferry for 7 days, $56 – very little more than we paid for the cab ride from the airport), to the 2 resident dogs.

It rained most of the night. The downspout into the cistern is outside my bedroom, so it was rather like sleeping by a rushing brook. All of Bermuda’s fresh water supply is rainwater. Every house has a specially constructed roof to maximize collection into the cistern below.

It is clearing now, breezy, high 60’s. The sun is up, but Ellen is not. I am sitting on the couch in my nightgown with a light shawl, and quite comfortable.

There are limestone “crystal” caves to explore, a botanical garden, the tallest cast iron lighthouse in the world (closed fro renovation) and many other things to see and do. Sadly, it may, in fact, be too cold for swimming, the locals wait for “Bermuda Day” late in May. Pictures to follow.

BTW I checked home prices on one real estate site: the cheapest was a 2-bedroom condo for $495,000. So, nice place to visit, but we won't be living here.

Orion

Orion over Molokai may be the same constellation of stars that we see in Tacoma. But there he’s dressed in denim with steel studs. Here he wears black velvet and diamonds.

Molokai

Molokai again – the annual escape from gray and gloom and wet and cold and grim.

I came a day ahead of the kids this year; I want to get to the Saturday morning farmer’s market on the first day instead of the last day of my stay.

SeaTac was frosty, the mountains were snow-covered, and it was clear and COLD when I left.

There are clouds out here, but they’re DIFFERENT clouds.

My choice for a car rental? Minivan or convertible. Let’s see, now, which should I pick?

Picked up groceries in Kaunakakai on my way out to my condo at Wavecrest (13 miles east of town). Forgot coffee! John may say, “I told you so.” He suggested a packed of pre-ground beans from home for my first morning. I said, oh, no, I can get good coffee at the airport. Well, yes. If I REMEMBER!

Rained on the drive to the condo. It did not rain at all  on my last visit here. Fine drops, more like a very heavy mist. Then rained all night.

Clearing now at dawn, and the roosters are carrying on. There’s a plumeria tree off my deck!

Slate Roof Cake

My father dated my Aunt Betty a few times before he started dating my mother. At my parent’s’ 60^th Anniversary dinner we asked him, “So why did you marry Mommy instead of Aunt Betty?” “Well, Betty couldn’t make the chocolate cake.”

This is “the” chocolate cake recipe that won my father. My mother made it for every special occasion – church suppers, neighborhood picnics, and for my father’s birthday for 65 years . She makes the boiled sugar frosting without a thermometer – she can judge the temperature of the sugar syrup by the length of the thread it spins from the tip of a stainless steel spoon.

The recipe comes from my mother’s father’s step-mother. This is the side of the family whose Tory politics made them unwelcome in Connecticut in the 18th century, so my grandfather grew up in New Brunswick, but he and his sister returned to Connecticut around 1905.

Great-grandma Minnie’s Slate Roof Cake

Cake:

Mix

Cream together:

½ c butter

2 eggs or 3 yolks

2-1/2 sq bitter chocolate, ,melted

Stir in

½ c sour milk with

½ tsp baking soda mixed in it

Beat in

2 c flour

¼ tsp salt

3 tsp baking powder

1 tsp vanilla

Add gradually

1 c boiling water

Batter will be thin. Bake in 3 layers, or a 9x12 rectangle about 35 minutes at 375 degrees.

Frost with chocolate frosting or the following boiled frosting:

Beat

3 egg whites until barely stiff

Boil:

1-1/8 c sugar

3/8 c water

1/8 tsp salt

stirring constantly, until mixture spins a thread 8” long

Pour slowly into the egg whites, beating constantly.

Add ¾ tsp vanilla

Beat until frosting holds its shape.

Spread on the cake and pour

2-1/2 sq melted bitter chocolate on top

My own notes:

You’ll find this frosting called ‘White Mountain” icing in modern recipe books. That 8” thread is equivalent to 238 degrees on the candy thermometer. Like candy-making, don’t try it on a cloudy day. One person can do it with a stand mixer; otherwise it takes one to hold the beater and turn the bowl and another to pour the syrup.

If you want a layer cake, use the whole eggs; it unmolds better.

Am I a Socialist?

“I think it's long past time to admit that socialism is the meat, potatoes, cabbages, and barley of civilization while capitalism is the opium, hashish, and cocaine.”
- J.M.Purser

Force majeure in the 21st century

The NY Times published an interview with Philip Levine in which he said, "There’s a kind of Protestant ethic that believes that if you’re really a good person, God will reward you with a full table and a garage full of automobiles and a beautiful husband or wife — that we should be judged by what the world has delivered to us."

Force majeure. Wrong then, wrong now.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/06/magazine/philip-levine-still-knows-how-to-make-trouble.html

Yellow Mercedes Benz Convertible

My father was an eminently practical man. At his funeral, many people spoke about his admirable ability to break a seemingly insurmountable problem into parts small enough to tackle. While he could not solve the troubles of the world, he could make a profound difference in his own community. He could, for example, do nothing about Pol Pot, but he could stand as father and grandfather to numerous Cambodian refugees.

When I was in junior high school, a quiz circulated among my sisters and our friends. I found it in its entirely on the internet today:

You are walking through a forest; describe it.
- Through this forest is a path; describe it.
- Along the path you come upon a key; what does it look like; what condition is it in? Do you pick it up?
- Farther along the path you find a cup; what does it look like; what is it made of; what condition is it in? Do you pick it up?
- As you continue walking, you come to an obstacle; describe it.
- What do you do? If you go around it or past it, then how?
- Next you happen upon a body of water; describe it. Do you get in it? How fast is it flowing?
- As you walk along, you come to a shelter of some sort; what does it look like? Do you spend the night?
- Finally, you’re walking along when you reach a fence; what does this fence look like; what is it made of; what condition is it in?
- Beyond the fence is a field; describe that. Do you go over the fence into the field?

The forest represents your outlook on life; how you feel (overall) about life.

- The path represents your plan in life, and is generally more current; i.e. how your life is being lived, or how you see it going.

- The key represents knowledge. If you pick it up, then education is important to you.

- The cup represents your view of love. Was it broken or fragile? Was it solid and complete, pretty, clean or covered with dirt?

- The obstacle represents the challenges in your life; how you normally handle them or deal with them.

- The water represents your sensual side. If you get in it, this means that you basically feel good about it. If not, perhaps you avoid it, or it’s not particularly important to you, or enjoyable.

- The shelter is your view of home life. Again, if you spend the night, it’s likely you feel comfortable about your present home situation.

- The fence represents religion. Does it have hard lines, or broken ones? Is it imposing, or easy to jump over?

- The field represents your view of heaven. Is it pleasant, or threatening? Do you go over the fence and into the field? If so, you’re probably not afraid of death.

I don’t recall that we asked all of these questions. I do recall clearly my father’s answers to some of them:

- he was taking the dog for a walk

- the key belonged to the front door of our house (which, incidentally, we never locked)

- the cup was a coffee mug, plain and sturdy

- the obstacle was probably a mountain which he climbed, the water a pond when he went around (as one of my sisters said at his funeral, there was no mountain he would not climb, and no body of water he would swim in)

- shelter was probably our house, home for the night

Everything about him was simple, uncomplicated, utilitarian

So, I was enchanted, at 15, to hear him say, “When I retire I’m going to buy myself a yellow Mercedes Benz convertible.” It appeared that my father did have a romantic and frivolous side after all.

About 10 years later, after he had retired, I asked him, “When are you going to buy your yellow Mercedes Benz convertible?” He replied that life and reality have a way of intervening sometimes, and it really was not at all a practical acquisition.

Another 10 years went by, and I came across a set of model cars in a catalog – a Volkswagen, a Porsche, and a Mercedes Benz convertible: yellow. Of course I bought them. I sent the Benz to my father for his birthday, reminding him of what he had said 20 years before. He was touched, but admitted that he had no recollection of having ever wished for such a thing.

This affected me deeply. I thought, how sad, to not only never achieve a dream, but to have forgotten ever having had it. I immediately went out and bough my own dream car, a red Volvo P1800 wagon.

And here’s the thing: that car disappointed me. It was so low to the ground that even at 35 I had trouble getting in and out of it; being so close to the road, I felt vulnerable in traffic; the kids quickly outgrew the back seat; it was totally impractical as a family car; and the frame was badly rusted. I sold it for a great deal less than I paid for it.

Which makes me wonder if my father was not right after all? Some dreams should be kept that way. Enjoy the fantasy. Don’t destroy it by bringing it to life.