INDIAN SUMMER DAY WITH A HANGOVER

EXPERIMENTS IN BLISS: BAKING + SELF-CARE {Recipe below!}

TODAY WAS A BEAUTIFUL BALMY DAY. SEVENTY DEGREES IN A SOUTHERN AUTUMN BREEZE. I AWOKE TO A SLOW, SLEEPY MORNING FILLED WITH ACHING HEAD AND GAUZY MOUTH. TOO MUCH PROSECCO AND ME AN ACCIDENTAL GLUTTON LAST NIGHT. SO THE PRICE WAS PAID IN BEAUTIFUL DAY HOURS SPENT IN BED WITH COVERS DRAWN HIGH.

EVENTUALLY I GOT MY SORRY CARCASS OUT OF BED AND SET ABOUT MAKING THE MOST OF MY DAY BEFORE WORK RECLAIMED ME FOR THE EVENING. I FIRST ENJOYED A LIESURELY MORNING BREAKFAST OF EARL GREY TEA AND CLEMENTINES. THIS SWEET PETITE FEAST ACCOMPANIED BY THE GUILTY PLEASURE OF HERCULES: THE LEGENDARY JOURNEYS STREAMING THROUGH MY COMPUTER SCREEN. NOTHING LIKE A LITTLE CAMP IN THE MORNING TO GET THINGS STARTED.

I SPENT THE REST OF THE DAY PLAYING HOUSE: TIDYING, STRAIGHTENING, MAKING THINGS PRETTY; AND HALF OF THE TIME IN THE KITCHEN MAKING FOOD. THESE ARE THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY. I IMAGINE THAT I AM BOTH GUEST AND KEEPER IN MY OWN LITTLE INN CALLED HOME. I CONSIDER INSTITUTING A TURN DOWN SERVICE FOR MYSELF, BUT SHELVE THE THOUGHT FOR NOW. MAYBE LATER. IT WOULD BE REALLY NICE TO FIND LITTLE TREATS ON MY PILLOW WHEN I FINALLY WANDER IN FOR THE EVENING’S REPOSE.

APRON STRINGS WRAPPED SAFELY AROUND MY NECK AND WAIST, I CHOPPED VEGETABLES, ROASTED BEETS AND SQUASH, MASHED SOME OF THE BUTTERNUT FLESH INTO SWEET AND CREAMY SUBMISSION. THEN I MADE SCONES USING MY TRIED AND TRUE RECIPE AND WHATEVER I COULD FIND IN THE CUPBOARD. I HAD TO PLAY WITH THE RECIPE A BIT, BUT THE FINAL RESULT WAS TASTY NONETHELESS. CHOCOLATE CHIP CURRANT GLUTEN FREE SCONES IN STARS AND WEDGES WITH A LOVELY EGGWASH GLAZE ON TOP. JUST THE PERFECT LITTLE BITE OF LUXURY ON THIS GORGEOUS DAY.

THE WALK TO WORK WAS WARM AND SWEET AS ANY CONFECTION. DUSTY PERIWINKLE SKY. COTTON SPUN CLOUDS FILTERED BUTTERSCOTH LIGHT FROM THE AFTERNOON SUN. SULTRY BREEZE CARRIED WHISPERS OF SUMMER AND YOUTH AND WILD ABANDON. I PASSED BUILDINGS WITH OPENED WINDOWS AND TREES WITH FIERY GOLDEN WHISKERS. THEY REMINDED ME OF OLD SOUL SURFERS STANDING TALL IN THEIR GOLDEN GLORY DEFYING WINTER’S ADVANCE. THIS IS WHAT INDIAN SUMMER IS ALL ABOUT: A BRIEF FLASH OF LIGHT IN THE DEEPENING DARKNESS OF THE SEASONS. AND THIS DAY STANDS AS A BRILLIANT BEACON. I HOPE IT WAS JUST AS BRILLIANT FOR YOU.

xoxo,

Melanie

Recipe for Melanie’s Brilliant Scones:

Scant 2 cups Bob’s Red Mill GF Savory Bread Flour

Scant 1 cup Bob’s Red Mill GF Homemade Wonderful Bread Flour

Scant 1 cup Bob’s Red Mill GF All- Purpose Flour

2 eggs + 1 egg, beaten, for egg wash

¾ stick butter, softened

1 cup coconut milk (or milk of choice)

Scant ½ cup superfine sugar

1½ T. baking powder

Add-ins as desired (dried fruit, nuts, herbs, chocolate chips, etc.)

Instructions:

1. Preheat oven to 425°F. Line baking sheet with parchment paper.

2. Put all ingredients, less egg wash and add-ins, into large bowl. Mix together until all ingredients are blended together. (I do this with a rubber spatula first, then with my hands, but a stand mixer with paddle attachment would be fine, too.)

3. Fold add-ins into batter, if using. Tip out onto a lightly floured surface and roll out to about 2” thick. Use cookie cutter or knife to cut into smaller shapes.

4. Put the biscuits on the baking sheet and brush with the egg wash. Chill scones for 30 minutes.

5. Remove scones from refrigerator, and brush the tops once again with the egg wash. Be careful to keep the egg wash from dripping down the sides as this can hinder the rise in the oven.

6. Bake for 15 minutes, or until golden brown. (Oven temperatures vary, so adjust baking time to your oven.) Remove from oven, and transfer scones to a wire rack to cool. Serve warm or at room temperature. Store in an air-tight container. Enjoy!

settling in to my new life

So much has been happening since my return to life in the States. It's been a little overwhelming, but, to be honest, I haven't really had much opportunity to dwell on it yet. This is my first week in which I begin my new job at the inn, and, thus, my new work schedule. This schedule is unlike any I've worked in a very long time, if ever. I have alternating weekly schedules: Week A and Week B. Each week I have two free days. These are days I can choose to use for myself, or days I can schedule clients, or both. During B weeks my two free days are consecutive. This will be nice when I need to get myself out of town for a spell, but don't feel like arranging a big to-do. I think it's going to work out well once I'm used to it. My hours at the inn are 1p-9p. This is where most of the major adjusting is going to be taking place. Still, I was able to make a schedule that allows me to work several jobs I enjoy (the inn, The Carolina Theatre, my massage clients, my yoga class, and the farmers' market for Dolly Mama) with only one casualty: I couldn't fit my shift at the video store into the new schedule. I was definitely sad about it. It's such a fun place to be, and such a lovely way to get to know folks in my community. But, I am only one person, after all, so if only one thing had to go, I consider it a positive.

The house is starting to come together. It's still got work that needs doing, though. I still haven't painted the kitchen yet, or finished the trim work. And, sadly, in my zealousness to lighten my material load before my sabbatical, I let go of a great deal of kitchen tools that I now wish I hadn't. Oh well, c'est la vie and lesson learned: Kitchen tools are important to me and are not always easy to replace quickly. I certainly have enough to work with, I just don't have everything I want. After the kitchen, I only really need to do some more tidy organizing and to find a way to creatively store my crafting supplies and unused, but precious, family heirlooms so I can get rid of the leviathan of a bookshelf in the mudroom to make way for a washer and dryer. Then, once the insides of the place are in order, I will be able to start thinking about the outside.

One thing blocking progress lately is the fact that I got sick enough to have to relegate myself to bed for a couple days this week. It was really mortifying to wake up on the first day of my inn job - the day I'd been excited about for weeks - with a sore throat, runny nose and stuffy head. I went to work anyway: I couldn't not go on my first day! I made it through the entire shift somehow. That was Wednesday. Thursday was a free day, but I had a client already scheduled for that evening. Well, by Thursday morning my condition had worsened exponentially. I couldn't get out of bed. I was feverish and my joints were aching. No position was bringing relief. Sleep was fitful, but welcomed, and I was in and out of it in groggy intervals. I had to cancel my client appointment. By next morning, I hadn't gotten any better, so I had to cancel teaching my yoga class, and, regretfully, take a sick day from the new job. My second day there, and I had to call in sick. That made me feel even worse. Still, I stayed in bed. I drank a lot of water and brothy soups. My friend, Dolly, was kind enough to bring me some really delicious and healing spicy Thai chicken soup. (Thanks, Dolly!) I was adding cayenne to everything I could. The combination of spicy heat and hydration and convalescence must have done some good, because by Saturday I was at least able to make it in to work again. It was questionable how I would manage during the morning, but by the end of the day I was feeling a good deal stronger. I'll be going in again today, and while I'm still not at 100%, I am definitely feeling much better than I have been, so I feel like I am on the mend, and hope to be back to my healthy, happy self again very soon.

During some of my down time during my convalescence I began to think about all the things I want to explore in life ... all of those little sparks that pique my interest and set flame to my imagination. (This was probably exacerbated by the fact that I was reading Patti Smith's memoir, Just Kids.) As my excitement was wheeling out into the Universe of Possibilities, my rational brain reminded me that my schedule is a lot tighter than it used to be. And, even though all of the things I'm doing are things I'm loving and from which I'm learning, I will never be able to fit all of my interests into my life. So, if I want to, practically, begin to explore my interests [outside of work], then I am going to need to pick a few favorites and try to work those in to my regular schedule. And if those few don't fit, then I'll have to cull the list even more until I have a manageable routine for learning and practicing new things of interest. (We'll see if I can maintain enough discipline to make this happen. It seems like such a simple arrangement, but discipline in these matters has never been my strong suit.) So, to start, I think I'm choosing these things to explore more actively: sewing, photography, drawing, writing (mainly the blog for now), baking/cooking, Spanish language study, and self-care. (The latter to incorporate things such as a regular personal yoga practice and hikes through the woods and time spent wandering aimlessly in bookstores and the like.) Eventually I would like the drawing (with which I have some little experience) to evolve into oil painting (with which I have absolutely no experience), but I will see about that at a later time. It's still a pretty large list, I know, but I am hoping that through creative planning I can make room for these passions. If you have ideas on how to create discipline for Self-pursuits, I would love to hear about it.

Okay, kiddos, it's off to work for me. Enjoy the last vestiges of your weekend!

xoxo,

Melanie

Please forgive me for being a Tardy Tammy ...

... but it's been a whirlwind of chaos and busyness since I last posted. I'll give you the quick version of what's transpired since our last chat.

My last couple weeks in Pohnpei were spent largely trying to make all the arrangements for my departure from the island and my re-entry into Durham. I had a stressful snafu with my flight reservation: When I went to check on it, I learned it was no longer in existence. I had to spend countless hours on the phone with both Continental and United representatives before being reissued another set of tickets for the same itinerary at an elevated price. (Stinking mergers ...) Still, it was good that I discovered the snafu before I was at the airport and ready to depart.

My last weekend on island was spent at The Village Resort. Saturday Dad and I booked one more snorkeling trip to Manta Road so I could try to snorkel with the mantas and actually enjoy the experience. (If you recall, the first time I did this, I was in the midst of a panic attack thanks to the whole "I'm swimming with sharks" knowledge.) By this last weekend I'd had more experiences in the water and was much more comfortable and ready to do the Manta Road experience right this time. The cruel joke was that it was chilly and grey and misty on Saturday. The first stop at Manta Road produced absolutely no mantas. Not a single one. So, our guides took us on to Mwand Pass so we could snorkel while the other couple on the trip with us could dive through the channel. This was a different section of Mwand Pass than the last one we visited. It was not at the wall, but at an area that was maybe 10-20' deep with large sections of coral dotting the sandy floor. It was nice, because we got to see some larger species of fish here than any of the other areas where we previously snorkeled. After this, we returned to Manta Road with higher hopes of finding manta rays this time. After several attempts to locate the creatures, our guide did finally spot one lone ray resting on the bottom of the ocean. Since we were all a little cold, and had all had prior experiences with the manta rays, we elected to just call it a day and head back to shore. I was sad not to get my chance at bravery with the rays, but it wouldn't have been the same under those circumstances, anyway, so I don't dwell on it. After Dad and I shared a lovely lunch at The Village restaurant, we got me checked in to my hut. (Mom and Dad gifted me with the generous and lovely gift of a night's stay at The Village. It was such a treat.) I spent much of my time lounging on one of the waveless waterbeds with my book. In the evening I went to dinner, and enjoyed yet another gorgeous island sunset and delicious Village meal. Then I retired to my bungalow for some more reading and relaxing until the cool ocean breezes, rhythmic lapping of waves on shore, and sounds of Nature in the darkness of night lulled me to deep, dreamy sleep. What a luxury! The following morning, Mom and Dad met me at the restaurant for a yummy brunch. It was a great way to spend my last weekend on island. (Thanks, Mom and Dad!)

In the true spirit of Travel, I had one more really stressful airline experience before my final departure. The airlines and their website(s) all told me to be at the airport an hour before my flight was scheduled to leave. I did. And it was too late for check in at the tiny Pohnpei airport. Apparently, they only have check-in during very specific times: 12n-1pm, if I remember correctly. This is for any flight leaving that day regardless of what time it departs. I didn't know this. There was no one at the counter. I couldn't find anyone to even ask for help. The plane was there, and had not left. It wasn't due to leave for another hour. But I had no idea how I was going to get myself and my bags on it. While I, my mother, my father, and a Pohnpeian that my parents knew who happened to be at the airport, looked around to find someone to help us, I was finally able to guilt the security guard into locating someone to help me. (I think he finally took pity on me because I was nearly in tears and on the verge of hysteria.) He returned with a woman who was kind enough to get me and my bags all checked in. I gave my parents the hastiest heartfelt goodbyes I could manage, then scurried over to board the plane. SUCCESS! I had made it. I was heading home.

Once back in Durham, I was elated to be reunited with my sister, who picked me up from the airport. We picked up a U-Haul, drove all the way to Carrboro to empty out my storage unit, drove all the way back to Durham to get me moved in to my new digs. As we take our first steps into my new home we discover someone is already in it. A fellow is there to begin work on the cleaning and painting of the place. That's right: to begin work. I politely kicked him out and contacted the property management company. Long story short, there was a miscommunication between the management company and the owner about my move-in date. We agreed that I would handle all the cleaning and painting (for a decent discount, of course), and that has been, in large part, how I've been spending my month. Apparently, the last tenants to live here were relatives of Pig Pen - the Peanuts character who is always filthy dirty with poofs of dirt and grime always in his wake. So, I've been cleaning, and cleaning, and cleaning some more. I'm almost finished with the cleaning .. almost. I've painted all the rooms except the kitchen, which I'm hoping I'll get to soon. I've scoured all the thrift stores in the area for whatever furnishings I didn't already have after my big "get rid of everything" pre-trip upheaval. I've sewn curtains, removed blinds, hung curtain rods throughout the house. I splurged, for the first time ever, on a brand new mattress. (Now I understand why people are willing to spend the ridiculous amounts of money that new mattresses require. My sleep has never been more sound.)

I have also been trying to arrange employment situations for myself. I have not really been able to fully process how my travels have changed me, but I am aware, at least, that I am profoundly changed. I have been revisiting long harbored dreams of what I want to do with my life, and trying to figure out how I might make even small moves in that direction. To paraphrase The Alchemist, when one sets out to fulfill her deepest and truest desires, the Universe conspires to make those dreams possible. Thus, I find myself in the very happy position of having employment situations that are moving me closer to my dreams. I will write more about this in another post. Suffice it to say, that the Universe is definitely conspiring for me, and I am very grateful and excited for it.

So, that brings us up to date for the most part. Golly, the quick version wasn't really very quick was it? Thanks for sticking with me through this post! I'm hoping to have some more posts coming soon. Now that I'm not being blessed with the adventures that traveling offers, I will be setting up my own Experiments in Bliss here in Durham. I've already got several planned. Stay tuned to read about how they turn out!

xoxo,

melanie

Ode to Travel

**NOTE: This is a previous post that accidentally got deleted when the blog went on hiatus. I happened across it again today, and thought it a timely reminder of why I took this trip ... timely because this trip is very quickly approaching its end. I hope it serves some benefit for you, too, dear reader!**


Please let me be the five millionth person to use this quote from the film version of Elizabeth Gilbert’s novel, Eat Pray Love:

“I’ve come to believe that there exists in the universe something I call ‘The Physics of The Quest’ – a force of nature governed by laws as real as the laws of gravity or momentum. And the rule of Quest Physics maybe goes like this: If you are brave enough to leave behind everything familiar and comforting (which can be anything from your house to your bitter old resentments) and set out on a truth-seeking journey (either externally or internally), and if you are truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue, and if you accept everyone you meet along the way as a teacher, and if you are prepared – most of all – to face (and forgive) some very difficult realities about yourself….then truth will not be withheld from you. Or so I’ve come to believe.”

This quote is referencing a phenomenon that can (and usually does) happen when one sets out on a personal journey. This journey can be a physical one in which the body travels to new geographical and cultural locations, but can also be a spiritual one during which the seeker leaves the routine of more familiar habits, patterns and perspectives. In either scenario, the basic outline is the same: one leaves what one has created as home (literal or metaphorical), in search of the discovery of a more profound, connective, or resonant incarnation of Self.

It is not imperative to take a physical journey in order to experience the spiritual. Though, from my own experience, at least, it can speed up the process. Travel, especially solo travel, can provide a more potent, saturated palette with which one can make those first fledgling strokes on a newly naked canvas. It is one thing to declare that Change is needed. It is quite another to exact that Change while entrenched in the routines of Sameness: Same living quarters, same work quarters, same faces and personalities and interactions, day in, day out, same obligations, same expectations, and so on, and so forth. To travel is to set oneself apart from all that Sameness so that one can more clearly recognize new people, places, ideas and needs. Without a removal from the confines of a daily structured existence, it can be nearly impossible to even notice that a Change is required. It is only when the time and effort are taken to notice the Self that one is able to recognize one’s Needs. And Needs are ever changing things. Of course, there are the basic, primal needs of water, food, shelter. But our more personal Needs – those things required for us to exist as healthy and thriving members of the human community – these Needs are not static. As we grow and mature, our Needs change. And the only way to know if our current Needs are being met is to be aware of what those Needs are at any given time.

When was the last time you asked your Self if your body was getting enough exercise? When was the last time you asked your Self what kind of relationships would be most beneficial to you at this juncture in your Life Journey? Do you really know what your Passions are? And can you separate your current Passions from hobbies you practiced in the past? It is not to preclude that the whims of youth cannot become the passions of adulthood, but, rather, that what ignites passion in a person can change as that person is exposed to newness in the world, and as she/he grows in relation to those new experiences. When was the last time you checked with your Self to ask what ignites your passion? And a bigger question still, might be: When was the last time you dove into your Passion? I know many a once-passionate painter who has failed to lift a brush in more moons than I can count. I have been one of these passionless zombies, and am only on the verge of revivification right now. How easy it is in the numbing routine of modern daily first-world life to get lost in the mundane, and to forget about the very kernels of Passion that give Life its flavor. How sad that so many of us lose our appetite for Self-Fulfilling Life, and replace it with the bland gruel of Conformity and Social Expectation. It is crap, in my humble opinion. And I believe most of us are in dire need of a big, fat enema. Let the Waters of Life whoosh in and clean out all the bullshit that is clogging us up so that we can once again assimilate the nourishment that full spectrum living can afford us.

This is why I travel. To cleanse my Self. To open my eyes to what Life really is, and who I really am within it. To change my perspective when I start getting stuck in the rut of a passionless life. I want to lust for Life. I want to live Life in high definition with surround sound. I want to really feel the earth beneath my feet and the breeze against my skin and the beating of my own heart as it swells with excitement or ebbs with contentment. I want to see the world and all its beauty and wonder, and I want to see myself mirrored in it so that the world is a reflection of me and I of it. I want to contribute something to my human community. I want to discover what it is that I can contribute that will be of value. And I want to savor every moment, every flavor that Life offers, be it bitter or sweet or both intertwined. This is why I travel.

And as I travel I grow. I step out of the hamster wheel of Same and onto a long and winding path of Newness. I am forced to pay attention on this path. I am offered the opportunity to make choices based on what pleases me in the moment within the confines of my available resources, even if my choice is to make no choice at all, but rather to let the path unfold and see where it takes me. Freedom is a wonderful teacher. She is at times lenient and carefree, and at times the headmistress of difficult Life Lessons. But every lesson is necessary and valuable. And I am only one of a great sea of students. One tiny pupil on a quest to find my Self. A perpetual student of the Academia of Life with infinite lessons to learn. I am hungry for knowledge. I am regaining my appetite. And I am gearing up to take a bite out of Life.


On that note, I think I’ll break for lunch. May you all enjoy sucking the sweet marrow out of Life today and every day! Xoxo!

More photos from Ant Atoll!

That's me gingerly gripping one of the coconut crabs at Ant Atoll. They are weirdly beautiful creatures.

A rainbow over Pohnpei. Who needs Oz with beauty like this?

If you look really closely, you can just make out the faint second rainbow in this photo. (I recommend clicking on the thumbnail to enlarge it, first.)

John Denver got it right when he sang, "Sunshine on the water looks so lovely." This was another view from the boat on the long ride back to The Village from Ant Atoll. How lucky are we?

Photos from Ant Atoll!

Dad, Mom and I on the boat ride to Ant Atoll. Notice Sokehs Rock just behind us!

One of Ant Atoll's famous sandy beaches. It was our own little paradise for a couple hours.

Mom takes to the water!

And we are so proud of her!

But after all that hard work, she needs a break. So, Dad fans her with a palm frond while she relaxes.

A few Black Coral Photos

Black Coral Island as seen from the boat ... a tiny treasure!

Another view of Black Coral island showcasing the variegated blues of the waters that surrounds it. I love this place!

This photo was from the first trip that Dad and I took to Black Coral. This is a little local boy named DeMarco. He followed Dad and me around when we first arrived. Shy ... and sweet ... and a snazzy dresser! I mean, check out that tie!