So So Sew

In the day, mine actually, schools had among other compulsory subjects, something called Home Economics. In these classes, which in my recollection, had nothing to do with economy, we girls in Grade Seven were ground through the tedium of making an apron. No one wore it or the dress we were painstakingly subjected to stitching: examples of  the skills required in the art of sewing. Fortunately, today, the matter of learning how to sew, is the making of useful and attractive items such as gym bags and cute totes. The worst of it, in the old days, was that most of us, out of dire necessity, were already making our own clothes under the guidance of our mothers. Mine  conducted a neighbourhood class in it. Her objectives were to make it fun, quick and practical. But the echo of the agonies involved in making that long white school apron remains with me today. When I approach the sewing machine, I feel as though I'm going off to battle. And lots of times, I am. I don't enjoy sewing even though I do it. My old sewer weighed a ton being made of metal with no add-ons. You sewed seams and anything extra such as button holes was what you did "off site". I miss that heavy old electric beast. Since the early days, I have suffered through lots of stitching projects but only out of necessity. Other than quilts that have invaded the planet, most people buy their garments off the rack. Fabric costs make sewing a luxury, not to mention the price of a sewing machine and its maintenance. The last time I went to a shop to buy a replacement for my old clunker, I felt like I was in a science lab. There are machines that you plug a disk into one end, and say "go", and an art quilt comes out the back. Others are more human oriented, but you have to be, not only someone with the fingers of a neurosurgeon, but also those as deft and smart as a jet flyer, to operate. There are sewing lessons of course. They come with the equipment, and the price reflects it. As I walked the aisles of the store past row after row of shining machines while heading to the back where the sale sign was, I was overwhelmed by the do-dads on these plastic wonders. Some of them sewed more than fifty different stitches and button holes to accommodate the buttons they also sewed on. What you would use all those jiggly stitches for, I have no idea. One of them actually read designs and executed them in any colour you chose. By the time I got to the sale section, I was completely intimidated. Did I think I could sew? I thought I would have to go to engineering school. I did walk out with a rather flimsy, by my standards, sewer, but it went back the first week. I broke the delicate automatic threader. Where, oh where was my brute of an old machine that stitched both leather and chiffon and when whacked in frustration, never complained - or broke.

Crafty Stuff

This is the season for bazaars and craft fairs. Announcements are made far and wide to draw in customers who walk amongst the sparkles and dangles and wow-what-a-great-idea tables. I know about that because decades ago, before I sized down and threw out boxes of these delights, I was a maker of such goods. In the group I belonged to, we sought to raise funds for worthy causes by making, in the company of all, shiny seasonal items to put on the festive mantels and tables of those who spend hundreds on display. I must admit, it was great fun and lots of work. We held the event and sold out but when we took a close look at the proceeds, we found that we were our best customers. There were gasps when I suggested that instead of buying what we made and then wondering what to do with it after-season, we simply donate a like-amount and put our talents into more real assistance to those whom we were funding. It went over like the proverbial lead balloon, but I continue to believe that these fairs, while lovely to look at and display great talent and innovation, they aren't really charitable. Hands-on help might be better in some situations. Other more commercial craft  fairs are designed to put cash in the hands of those hands that made the gewgaws on display. And all credit goes to the clever work these artist craftspersons achieve. But what to do with the stuff after buying it, but toss it into the garbage for land-fill when the fleeting holiday is over? The tinsel dulls and the sparkles fall off and the bows droop. Sorry to be a party pooper but it is the truth, the kind we more affluent, ignore. A very good friend of mine gives gifts that she makes. They are simple and useful little cotton knit dish cloths and when she gave me one, I was thrilled. It was useful. I didn't have to hang it up somewhere and throw it out when it looked sad and worn like a wilted bouquet of flowers. I still have it and every time I use it or take it out of the wash, I think of my friend and smile. There may be other ways of helping the less fortunate. How about offering single mothers or fathers, some free babysitting? Maybe take a casserole down to the homeless or a pile of warm blankets or winter jackets? I knew a guy who did this. Or perhaps call on  lonely elderly persons who have no car and offer them a ride somewhere of their choice? Selling sparklies to people who don't need anything more to toss out later, doesn't show the true meaning of the season. Oh I can hear the bah-humbugs out there, but let's make the holiday one that matters. Most of us find it too easy to drop the cans and toys into the charity boxes, but forget the meaning of that vital, person to person, touch. Happy Holiday!

Saying - I Don't

Weddings are becoming mini-coronations. The "robes", the procession frou-frou and the walloping guest lists are becoming ridiculous. The total costs would buy an exotic car! At least a true coronation is lasting and I won't say more on that topic. I know one career couple who bought a mortgage together on a huge house, lived in it for five years until they had saved up for the gargantuan marriage ceremony that became family legendary. Sadly it ended in tragedy. One of the couple was killed in a head-on collision. There were no children in the empty house but ironically lots of photos on display of their long anticipated wedding for the remaining spouse to view. Cold comfort. And while it is an extreme tale, it brings to question what really  matters. Is the huge expense worth it? The ridiculous sum for a wedding gown worn once, the location, food and drink costs could well be put toward a down-payment on a house. Some young couples, after the "coronation" pay for it years to come.  Their indulgence might well have been spent elsewhere. To say that it is because they want to pay back for attendance at the fantastic weddings of their friends, or to "do it" for show for their  relatives is just not a valid reason for the foolish pomp and circumstance. Most of the people who attend weddings don't care if it's fish or fowl on their plate or how many flounces were on the wedding dress. They go because they want to celebrate the union of two people who are in love, not in debt, at the end of the affair. The weddings I treasure in my memory are the "small" ones held in homes and gardens or of the loving couples who go off to some romantic place of their choice are the ones I admire. Frankly, I have been at some large weddings that were disastrous. The bride and groom were long past their first honeymoon and often had their kids in tow. Why not call those a "confirmation of love" or some other term than  "wedding". To me, weddings are an event saying that a young couple are just starting out on a matrimonial journey and who want to celebrate it with their loved ones in a simple, sincere way. That is a wedding.

More Less Please

When you are a single, and most of us either are or will be one day, less is more. Especially when shopping at markets. Country marketing is best because you can find exactly the quantity of product you need: a large onion, a few carrots and potatoes, and so on. The best part of the latter is weekly, at least during the summer months, the fresh produce we desire and most of the time, it's naturally grown by those who care about what they are personally offering you. But not everyone has access to a market or perhaps they cannot get to one due to physical limitations. They are left to neighbourhood public grocery stores. We are told that the produce is fresh but frankly, it isn't "same day". And for very practical reasons. We solo shoppers do the best we can. If our freezers are accommodating enough we buy the bargain mega packages and repack when we get them home. During sales, one can load up on freezable items. Of course, that doesn't apply to fresh fruit and vegetables that need to be recent to allow the best vitamin content. But if you have found a bargain, and it's too much for one sitting, you can easily be your own Jolly Green You-Know-Who. The small sandwich bags, and please not the more expensive zip kind, are best for this task. A trip to the dollar store will give you, for little money, plastic bag closers that are secure and can be used over and over again. Check your cookbook to see how long you need to steam the veggie for safety and quality, so that you may enjoy it next week as well as today. The key to loading up the freezer with things to throw out is "less is more". Okay, I hear you say, but I don't want to go to all that trouble. Since when was food trouble? Turn off the TV and go to the stove and sink. Consider the effort good exercise! A friend of mine who was perfectly able to get out and about in her walker to the malls, had her meals brought in. She complained about them constantly. All she had to do was buy the food, invest in a small stainless steel skillet, slap the meat in to brown, then the veggies, add some water,  let it cook for a short time and voila: a nourishing and tasty dinner.  A student I know has one hot plate and a tiny fridge and makes perfect meals. If you need more flavour, add some fresh herbs that are also readily available right where you found the veggies. They can go into a vase that is green and fragrant as you pluck the leaves to add to your meals. Basil and parsley, rosemary and bay, are wonderful. Furthermore, it gives you something worthwhile to do and also alleviates boredom.

To The Last Drop

When you are laughed at for using the "last drop" of food in the fridge to make soup, scooping the batter out of a bowl cleanly and cutting the veggies to the bitter end, you have your reasons. You're not cheap or a skinflint. You simply hate waste. I can't use The Great Depression as an excuse, and that's no laughing matter either, but I can remember food rationing. As  child I recall  butter paper being scraped for every bit left and the sugar meagerly doled out. In my Home Economics class long ago, dear Miss Maxwell, explained her days serving in the military as she got every grain of oats out of the bag or the last slide of batter out of the bowl before demonstrations. But what really makes me always use up the "last drop" of any food item is a news release: films of starving children scouring garbage dumps for any kind of remaining contents in tins and bottles of things that might luckily contain the smallest morsel of something edible. Or of the homeless hanging out behind restaurants and fast food outlets waiting for the nightly additions to the garbage dumpsters. Reading about desperate Arctic explorer teams who ran out of food and carved up their leather belts to make "soup" , chilled me as a young reader and made me very aware of how bad waste is.  People who throw out perfectly useable food, worry me. It isn't that they can't drive off to the nearest market and get more, it's just plain wasteful. Perhaps you've heard some mothers threaten their fussy kids about starving children who would gladly eat the green beans or broccoli and how lucky their brood is to have those  on the plate. She is right, actually, even if a bit wasteful herself by not giving them something equivalent that won't be ignored. I often watch friends cutting up vegetables by peeling potatoes too thickly or chopping off far too much, in my opinion,  ends of celery stalks or carrots or beans when, with a bit of care, inches more could be saved. Also watching with horror, school children tossing their lunch sacks into the  trash cans day after day because they don't like their sandwiches  when others in the class didn't have a decent breakfast that morning and likely won't see a nourishing dinner later, make me ill. Food is precious and lessons in appreciation of its respect might be a lifesaver - for someone - one day.

Cooking Not

When I see a recipe that looks tempting, I expect to have full input when I use it. What I often find disappointing as most people who love to cook, do, are  recipes such as the one I found today that promised barbecued slow cooker pork chops. I was interested in how the title sounded because when you cook for a crowd, the slow cooker is a great helpmate. There were two ingredients in the recipe: pork chops and a bottle of barbecue sauce. Period. Disappointed, I discarded it immediately as "cooking not".  To me, that kind of so-called recipe is insulting and untrue since the bottle of barbecue sauce is the cook and not the individual who pours  it on the meat. The joy of preparing food to eat, is finding various items to use that will satisfy both the cook and the cooked for. It allows for creativity in adding products that make the recipe unique to the food maven. The search for ingredients that  stimulate the senses as well as providing a nutritious meal, is one of the challenges that those of us who love to cook, look for. I am not a professional chef or even someone who puts on elaborate impressive bragging-rights fare. I simply love to cook - and enjoy the food as well. Too often lately, I find recipes that call for packaged pre-cooked and processed additions that can, with a little more time, be made right in the home kitchen. Furthermore the list of additives in these, are frightening. I do not consider pie crust or bread kinds of  mixes, cooking. I dislike canned or frozen items when fresh can be located. Sauces and soups from a tin or a jar are fast and that's the best you can say for them. I weaken slightly when it comes to spaghetti sauce simply because making a fine sauce can take a whole day to prepare from scratch. But even using your basic tomato base, I never ever just dump the sauce jar onto the pasta without adding to it a raft of other things that perk the redness up to the richness of an elegant Italian dish. You know what I mean if you love cooking as much as I do. These days of speed existence with its cyberspace instant in-your-face-lifestyles, it's just too easy to grab a prepared item from that expensive grocery we all know, where you can buy those to-die-for ingredients that impress your important guests who know perfectly well where you got them because they do exactly the same thing. If you call yourself a cook because you love to cook, do it. Cook.

Yours And Mine

This is  large planet and we are about to be tested to see how much we agree with that thought. We are going to share it with refugees who will be guests in our neighbourhoods very soon. These people had no choice but to leave everything they worked toward, loved and hoped for, and have come to us in desperation. It was not by choice. I imagine they will daily remember the good times they enjoyed once in their country of origin and will be sad and perhaps angry that such horrors could happen to them. They come here, not to take advantage of our opportunities and comforts; they have been sent here, but as such, are in this place to survive and try to piece back together their lives that were so rudely interrupted. What is our part as world citizens? What do we do when they become part of our neighbourhoods? Somewhat like adopting a child with problems not of their doing or choosing, but who need someone to care for and about them, the refugees are arriving from a torn place to a country that they have heard is kind and accepting. They loved their own land once as we do ours now. They are grateful that we offer them shelter but it will be enormously hard for them. Their language and customs, their environment and lifestyles were so different in many ways. They will need to find work and people who are friendly toward their newness. How strange and stressful it will be for them. We will meet these folks on the street and in the shops and schools and parks. Let us try and make them feel they are our fellows and neighbours. I think we have it in us to share and expand our generosity even though we have lots of other needy folks right here and we could spend hours complaining about these matters. We are bigger than we think and kinder and more "human" than we realize. Hopefully, we will bring out our positive thoughts and reach out to these people, fellows of this lovely blue planet, and prove that this country is truly The Best Country In The World.

Indoor Food Garden

Yes, you can have your very own indoor green garden. Even in November. All it takes is a small supply of sprouting seed - a little goes  long way - a biggish Mason type jar, access to water, a small piece of cheese cloth or similar, an elastic band, and you're off. Put some seeds into the jar, fill it with water and soak your seeds overnight. You need not keep the jar in daylight. I grow my sprouts in the corner of my sink. Rinse the seeds with fresh water daily and put the cloth back on the jar top tilted to make sure there is drainage of excess water. You want the seeds damp, not swimming. Soon you'll have a lovely green crop and a lot of discarded seed bits left in the bottom of the jar. To prep the seeds for putting in your soup and sandwiches (yum), pour them into a large bowl of water and rinse, allowing the sprouts to come to the top. Scoop the green sprouts out with your open fingers like a sieve, and put aside. Remove the discarded seed bits from the bottom and toss them into your compost. That's it! This kind of green garden is sometimes called micro greens. The bacteria that comes along with the process is mostly good and beneficial for digestion like other pro-biotics. The sprouts are great sources of Vitamin A, C  and other good things. And you don't need dirt or large spaces to grow your own food. You can buy elegant trays for growing or you can simply stick to recycled jars which is eco-friendlier. Kids will love growing their own salad toppings and sandwich enhancers. They can even keep their micro-gardens in their rooms. The sprouts make a nice little side salad with additions such as carrot parings and thinly sliced green onions and celery.  Design your own mini salad that can be served on a tomato slice with dressing drizzled over or sitting provocatively on a slice of toast. Sprouts look cute on most casseroles and float about in soups as though they belong there. I hear that some people even put them in the freezer for later. Campers latch on to this snack  because it gives them an easy source of green that is light and packable. Good winter gardening!

Eerie Dark

Last night was Hallowe'en night. Used to be a kid's night but now it's adult party time. And when the adults, those who remember the true Hallowe'en of the past, tire of the "fun" of dressing up in their elaborate costumes for yet another reason to indulge, will Hallowe'en disappear? I regress - into the comforting past once more. In the "old days" when there was such a thing as trust and no fear of releasing kids into the real world at night, we looked forward to Hallowe'en more than Christmas. It was when we didn't care as much as our parents did about the costumes as now. We thought only of sugar plums dancing in our heads. Ahh, those candies, piles of them and watching out for razor blades in apples, an idea that sent shivers up our spines but that never, never happened. The rich people on the corner in the mansion, gave out small chocolate bars for which we had to sing or recite something in their vast foyer. Some kids devised ways of wickedly going back to those houses twice. Most were caught red handed and scolded later by their embarrassed folks. A few, as we thought then, over-protective parents went along with the small groups of children, but usually the big kids looked out after the little ones. The truth was, if they went along with the smaller children they were sure to get  treats in their sacks, too. It was their childhood rite-of-passage way of easing out of Hallowe'en because high school loomed with all of its reputational demands. Everyone had firecrackers and the braver kids even had punks to light them. I suppose they were dangerous but since they were, we were careful. Kids have a lot more sense than parents give them credit for. There were some accidents somewhere of course, but they happen now, too, likely at the same rate. It was a grand night full of excitement and thrills when dad's went out into back yards and popped off the bigger, scarier mini bombs and exotic fireworks that mostly fizzled. In our rooms that night, we emptied the candies on the floor by our beds and sorted them. What lay there was, to us, treasure in all its glory. We scooped up and tossed the trove laughing in complete joy. These delights could be traded at recess next day or devoured secretly or saved like Silas Marner to gaze upon until we couldn't help eating them one by one. A few kids courageously doled out the grand collection of colourfully wrapped goodies miserly, some lasting almost until dreams of Christmas began. But here and now, last night was like any other night, no firecrackers popping into the darkness or happy shouts of kids roving the neighbourhoods. In fact, where are the kids these days? Don't see them on the sidewalks any more. And will Hallowe'en appear on the calendar next year?