Some Thoughts on Writing

“If you find yourself asking yourself (or your friends) ‘Am I really a writer, am I really an artist?’ Chances are you are. The counterfeit innovator is wildly self-confident. The real one is scared to death.” - Steven Pressfield, The War of Art

That’s it. No other requirements necessary. But for a long time (a very long time and sometimes still) that little voice inside my head asks, are you really? When I read the biographies of some of my favorite writers, sure enough, there is a list of degrees and certificates a mile long that state this person is a real writer. 

I don’t have a degree in creative writing. But then again, I didn’t get a degree, a manual, or even a certificate of authenticity when I became a mother, but I am a mother regardless of my lack of training. And all of it is on the job. Some of it is instinct and some of it is sheer will. Sometimes I get it right and sometimes I don’t. If I make a mistake, I try to correct it and do better next time. And that’s what I do when I write.

I started this blog as an outlet—practice for the stuff I get paid for. The words get written, I hit the publish button, and voila. But what you don’t know is that I’m always correcting things. I come back to posts and tweak. I even delete. I find countless spelling mistakes in my manuals, in my essays, in my articles, and on this blog. No matter how many times I read and re-read something. I’m afraid the grammar police are going to cite me at any given moment. But again, this is practice. And practice is never perfect.

So if you’re feeling like a bit of a fraud wondering if you have the right credentials, listen to what Elizabeth Gilbert has to say on the subject in this video and in this article.

Sage advice, indeed.

You Are What You Read

If you check out my list on Good Reads, or just glance at the picture above, you can plainly see that I have no idea who I am. I love fiction and non-fiction. I enjoy romance and mystery. I read memoir, short story, literature, children's books....just about anything I can get my hands on. I am literally all over the map, changing direction as quickly as the wind blows. For a time, I was hopelessly lost in a historical fiction phase. I couldn't read anything that didn't whisk me back in time—no matter how good. I think this lasted about a year before I started to shake things up.

When I first moved away from the city, I became very acquainted with my small town library. So much so that after a couple of years I started to check out the same books. (Oh how I wish I had kept a list of everything I've read over the years.) I will purchase books by the bundle when they're on sale only to find that I have duplicates. Hmmm, this looks familiar. Even as I started rating books I have read on my new Good Reads account, I had to stop and really think about all of the books that have crossed my path but are no longer on my shelves. When I read a review from another member I usually find a book or two that I add to my list.

It's no wonder that the voices inside my head speak many languages and argue about what happens next. I will read... I will write... There is too much to choose from because I want to read it all, and I want to write about it, too.

P.S. The books pictured above are (left) some of the fiction I have read in the last few months (The book The Middle Place is non-fiction), and (right) my favorite books on writing and writing inspiration. And I'm still finding my way around Good Reads.

P.P.S. I haven't updated my Good Reads list in a very long time!

Maple Syrup Time

Warm days and cool nights are the perfect recipe for making maple syrup. So as you can imagine, the maples around here have been tapped and the sugar houses are in full swing. The state of New Hampshire might not be as popular as Vermont when it comes to maple syrup, but we hold our own.

Here's how it works: Maple trees (sugar, red, and black varieties) are "tapped" by drilling a hole into its side and then a spout or spicket is inserted. A bucket is attached to catch all the sap that starts to run freely as the atmospheric pressure changes each day. A series of tubes and hoses may be used to direct the sap as well. Once it's collected, as much as 75% of the water is removed and then the sap is boiled down into syrup. It takes about 40 gallons of sap to produce just one gallon of syrup which is why it's more expensive than any maple product such as the syrup you find in the grocery store, which really doesn't contain much (if any) real maple syrup.

Here are a few facts about New Hampshire maple syrup and syrup in general:

• There are approximately 87 working sugar houses in this state according to the NH Maple Producers Association.
• The season can last anywhere from 4-6 weeks from mid-February to mid-April depending on the weather.
• There are four grades: B, A Dark Amber, B Medium Amber (typically used on pancakes etc.), and A Light Amber. Extra Light and Grade A typically have a milder flavor than Grade B. (Vermont and New Hampshire differ slightly in their grading system.)
• According to a University of Rhode Island study, drizzling maple syrup on your oatmeal may help prevent inflammatory diseases like cancer, osteoporosis, and Alzheimer's.
• Maple syrup is loaded with polyphenols, plant-based compounds that work as antioxidants, which are also natural anti-agers.
• A study conducted at Wayne State University in Detroit found that if you replace sugar with the same amount of maple syrup you can help ward off illness because syrup contains essential nutrients like zinc and manganese. Zinc keeps your level of white blood cells up, which is crucial for increasing your resistance to illness, and manganese protects immune cells from inflammation and damage.
• You can even add maple syrup to your beauty regimen: To help with fine lines, stir together 1 Tbsp warm milk and 1 Tbsp maple syrup. Add 3 Tbsp of finely ground oats and stir again. Massage gently onto your face and leave it on for up to 20 minutes. Rinse and follow with moisturizer.
• Consider swapping in maple syrup for sugar. It's less likely to cause indigestion, gas, and bloating compared with processed sweeteners. Add it to pound cake, butter cookie and coffee cake recipes which complement syrup's woodsy flavor.

And because it's so delicious, try this:

• Vinaigrette: Whisk 2 Tbsp olive oil, 1 Tbsp each of maple syrup and red wine vinegar, and 1 Tsp of Dijon mustard. Season with salt and pepper.
• As a glaze: Mix 1/4 cup maple syrup, 1/2 tsp ground cumin, and a pinch of red pepper for chicken, pork, or salmon.
• Marinade: Combine 1 Tbsp each of maple syrup and olive oil over carrots or sweet potatoes.

Photos: foodskop.com and honeygirlstudio.blogspot.com

Irish Beef Stew

St. Patrick's Day may be just around the corner, but I plan to make this hearty stew just because. The ingredients are simple, the recipe straight forward, the only thing I'm concerned about is using Guinness. I've never even had a sip let alone used it in a recipe. I'm tempted to substitute red wine instead... I'll let you know how it goes.

Guinness Irish Beef Stew

1-2 lb of chuck beef cubes

8 carrots – peeled and cut into chunks
1 large white onion - chopped
4 cloves garlic - minced
1 bay leaf
1 tsp salt
2 tsp black pepper (or more!)
3 cups of water
10 baby potatoes - quartered
2 tsp sugar
1 can or bottle of Guinness
1 six oz can of tomato paste (I used a Thick & Rich tomato paste – the only ingredient is tomatoes)

1. Add about a tablespoon of oil to a frying pan, heat on medium-low fire, and cook beef cubes until browned. Transfer beef and juice to a large pot (or slow cooker).
2. Add another tablespoon of oil to pan, and sauté garlic and onion until lightly browned. Transfer to large pot (make sure to use all the flavor from the pan by heating a bit of water in the pan and pouring it into the pot).
3. Into the large pot, add the carrots, bay leaf, salt, black pepper, and 3 cups of water. Cover, and simmer on low fire for 2 hours.
4. Add baby potatoes to the pot. Cover, and simmer for one hour, or until potatoes are softened.
5. In a bowl, mix together Guinness, sugar, and tomato paste. Then pour the mix into the large pot. Cover and simmer for one more hour, or until desired thickness (stirring occasionally to prevent burning).
6. Serve hot, with freshly ground pepper sprinkled on top. Or store in refrigerator overnight and enjoy the next day, since stews always taste better after a day or two. 

Recipe via Season with Spice. Please click to read all of the recipe notes.

Color Inspiration

Color Inspiration

BM 2055-30 Caribbean Blue Water, Rodda Paint 2040 Electric Blue, RAL RAL2002 Vermillion

BM 2015-20 Orange Burst, BM 321 Viking Yellow

Bird image via http://ineedfile2.com/archive/birds.html

Color Inspiration

Images via Rackk and Ruin and Pantone.com

Dreaming of Summer

Even though there's a foot of snow just outside my door, the only thing that's been on my mind lately is summer. Those easy, long stretched-out days of endless sunshine. The whirring of lawn sprinklers, the smell of fresh-cut grass and steaks sizzling on the grill. Fireflies, warm starry nights, and sweet, sticky watermelon... I crave it, taste it, and desperately want summer to begin.

The change of seasons has always inspired me. In fact, I'm in the middle of writing all about enjoying our home, and our lives, as the snow starts to melt and buds begin to blossom. Summer Home will be the first in a series of season-inspired musings on ways to enjoy living well all year long. So as I put pen to paper and try to finish my latest project, this week’s posts will not be filled with words, but with beautiful images instead.

Photo: girlyme.tumblr.com and stellaresque42.tumblr.com. Sign available at the Etsy shop, My Sweet Savannah.
Tags: essays, writing

Worrywart

I’m a worrier. I wasn’t surprised to learn I would worry more once I became a mother, but I was a seasoned professional long before the additional worry of motherhood was placed on my shoulders. I worry about the usual things, and sometimes I worry about the unusual—things my husband assures me will never happen. Ha. He, of course, is not a worrier. My mother is a worrier, too. I wonder if it’s in the blood. That cautious, dip-my-toe-in-but-go-no-further feeling has affected every aspect of my life. Sometimes it overwhelms me and sometimes I’m able to cast it aside letting reason take the reins. Did I mention I’m a bit of a control-freak, too? Well, there you go.

The girls took their first trip to Sugarbush on Monday. After receiving over a foot of powder over the weekend, they ditched our local mountain in favor for some deep, white, real snow. I didn’t want to know how big the mountain was. I didn’t want to know how fast the lifts would get them to the top. I just wanted them to be careful—really careful. I can’t even count the number of times I told my husband to drive safely. All day long I counted the hours assuring myself that they were fine.

When I take them to Crotched, I stick around sometimes to see how they’re doing and I try to time them coming down, just so I can lay eyes on them and reassure myself that they are indeed, just fine. I never could look before. Now I can, but I still get a lump in my throat. Crotched is expanding next year with a faster lift that will shoot them straight to the top. Terrific. For some reason I thought this mountain would be safer for them. That was until I got a call six weeks ago letting me know my youngest daughter was taken to ski patrol. She had fallen off a box (jump) and broke her wrist. After the initial shock, and the realization that it could have been a lot worse, I thought I had crossed some sort of threshold—she got hurt; we’re in the clear. But the worry only grew.

Skiing down a mountain, my oldest daughter driving our pick-up, dating. That rope of safety we parents hang on to is getting let out a little more each day. And the gray hair is multiplying at an alarming rate.  I’ve traded in small worries for bigger worries as the years have gone by. Skinning a knee is a piece of cake, or so I’ve found out. My oldest daughter has one more year of high school before she heads off to college. I’m already shaking in my boots. This will be round two for hubby and me. We survived the college years once already with our son, but… girls are different. It’s not fair, it just is.

As I sat down to watch some TV with the girls just yesterday, the snow started to fall and quickly silenced the noise in my head. I felt at peace. We were all home, safe and sound, passing jokes back and forth as quickly as we could think of them. And for a small moment in time, I didn’t worry about a thing. I was just happy to be with them.