THE BOOK OF BARKLEY
Sunday, March 17, 2024
Friday, March 8, 2024
On Invisibility
When we were kids, we used to talk about what super power we'd like to have if we were a Comic Book Hero. Strength would be good, but I'd be constantly breaking things. X Ray Vision? (the human TSA scanner - no thanks). I never thought the one I'd get was invisibility.
One day you're walking down the street, and everyone wants to say hello, be your friend, hear you speak (or just chat you up), and the next the mailman doesn't even make eye contact. You realize that you are what you always labeled anyone over 40 when you were that kid. You're OLD, therefore invisible. You are that library no one visits, that painted landscape of experience and color that no one looks at because they're all too busy taking a selfie or staring at their phone.
But I'm OK that that. When the world isn't clamoring for your attention, you are free to step back and truly see it. See it in the quiet hours of domestic life that are marked, not by a time clock, but by the shifting of light and shadow on ancient oak. Hear it, in the grace of stillness that lingers between walls that have known multiple lives and loves.
There's that sense of time lost, but only in those changes, the loss makes in the course of our daily thoughts that can be felt in vague yet poignant moments of remembrance. We remember those that have gone before, their breathing no longer in our power, but the memory as steady as always. For, with aging, not only comes responsibility but loss. Suddenly, for myriads of reasons - fate, illness, accident; the people around you, as reliable as the sunrise, leave, insensible to your pleas to stay,
But being invisible does have its perks. I can watch the world as it does not watch me back; finding humor in the mundane, shaking my head at others so obvious to it all, their passive insensibility as the caffeine wears off interrupted by slight convulsive starts as a new text comes in, such as may be observed in a dog having a dream on a hardwood floor. At first that sense of unwanted solitude is disconcerting, but then you realize how much you are truly not seeing, the stroke of a brush on a canvas, the launching of a thousand boats, the sound the tide makes as it retreats to the pull of an invisible moon.
After an errand that took me into the city, I walk down to the lake, before it gets too dark to be out alone. The setting sun sets a metallic tinge to the waters as it begins to set, taking the moment to gather gold, the gold one meant to secure, but squandered, the gold that is promise, too soon forgotten, the gold worn on the left hand, enduring when all else was lost. People think the clavicle is the most delicate bone in the body as it's so commonly broken, but to me anyway, it's the lacrimal bone, a small and incredibly fragile bone the size of the little fingernail, found at the front part of the medial wall of the orbit - its main function is to provide support to the structures of the lacrimal apparatus, which secretes tears.
As I feel the wetness on my cheeks, I guess I should just be happy my lacrimal bones are intact.
I toss that small stone across the water, hoping to see it skip. only to watch it plunge into the darkness. Next came a small stick, which freely made its way out into the depths of the lake growing small and indistinct in the near darkness. Where would the currents carry it, north, south? No matter how long I stand, patiently, watching the gleam and spark of the waves as the sun sets, that small stick will not return. It is as lost to me as the stone, just taking longer in its leaving.
Some would look at my countenance and just think "old woman" yet in my eyes is a gleam of surprising intelligence that looks at the world gravely, wide open and steady as if facing something invisible to all other eyes, while I stand straight, unconscious of myself, yet aware of the power I still had in my hands. They are hands that have held the paw of my best friend as he left me, hands that have sawed through the human breastbone to take a measure of a heart. Hands kind, capable, but not to be trifled with.
Arriving home, I'd watch the news, but I gave away my TV long ago, preferring the vast library of books behind leaded glass a hundred years old. Besides, I'd need to don my rescue dog's "Thunder Shirt" to listen to the news any more.
I let our rescue Lorelei out, her grabbing and shaking her favorite toy while I quietly watch smoke from the neighbor's chimneys spread the thinnest of veils of haze over the neighborhood. No one pays any attention to me, despite the green "scrub" pants, bright red coat, and orange hat (intuitive color coordination apparently another superpower I lack).
An ancient tea kettle shrills its warning, and soon we are back inside, Lorelei riding her escalator up into the house, her tail waving like a Nascar flag as she rides past the finish line, where she can snoot the latch open and walk into the house. Coat and gloves off, it's time to be savored over tonight's book. I gather the makings of the tea, my soul's task as focused on those simple tasks as anything I do, but that is just how I am.
I curl up with an old favorite. Joseph Conrad's story "Youth" - an old man's story of his perilous experiences as a young seaman on a storm-wracked coal liner. Having always been a headstrong girl, taking on one dangerous job after another, I empathized with what he said. "I remember my youth and the feeling that I will never come back anymore, the feeling that I could last forever, outlast the sea, the earth, and all men".
If I had the chance to be 20 again I wouldn't. Time and memory are what has made me who I am. Events in my life, even the ones I'd rather not repeat, all served to awaken within me a stranger who was strong enough to survive it, to grow, becoming someone forged new, honed sharper, and stronger. I've moved past the deception of Conrad's youth, to a place where my soul is still, my heart is full and when I leap from a runway with the wind in my hair, I know I will not live forever on this earth and it doesn't bother me, it just makes me treasure what I have
I go to sleep with a clear mind, having given up alcohol or anything that dulled the senses years ago, preferring life lived sharp, like obsidian, not fragile as shale. Earth, the waters of the lake, and the sky are all wrapped up in deep sleep as am I. It is a sleep peacefully oblivious to wealth or misfortune, friends, or enemies, yet eternally aware of that empty spot by the window illuminated as the lightning flashes where an invisible black dog stands watch into the invisible night.
- LB Johnson
Monday, March 4, 2024
Simplifying Chores - Labrador Style
Mom - since you're going down to the basement freezer to get more dog treats, I suggest this bag to bring them back - it appears to be empty.
Friday, February 23, 2024
Happiness is a Warm Cookie
Someone was trying to quietly raid the homemade cookies.
As is often the case, when I went to visit, Dad only had packaged cookies from the store, made out of special Keebler Kevlar, so I usually made a batch when I popped in for a visit, and cousin L. always brought a big bag up when she visited.
1 and 1/2 tsp vanilla
1 tsp baking soda
pinch of sea salt
1/2 tsp cardamom
1 tsp. orange zest (the finely grated outer peel of an orange)
1/2 cup butter, gently melted so it's mostly liquid but not real hot
1 cup white sugar
2 eggs
1/2 cup sour cream (not "lite")
1 cup dark chocolate chips.
Preheat oven to 375 F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper (or grease it well, even if non stick).
In a large bowl, with a hand mixer, cream together the melted butter, sugar and vanilla until smooth. Beat in eggs and sour cream until well blended.
Sift together flour, baking soda, salt, and cardamom, stir into the butter mixture. Mix in the orange zest and dark chocolate chips.
Drop dough by heaping tablespoons 3 inches apart on cookie sheets. Bake 13 to 15 minutes, until lightly golden brown. These will be soft, lightly colored cookies so do NOT overbake. Let cool on wire rack
That trip, Dad didn't get a fancy platter, but after his late afternoon snack of cookies, he did get a small martini and both remotes so he was a happy man.
Friday, February 9, 2024
Room Service Please
Monday, February 5, 2024
Attention Burglars -
Dear Burglars -
Forget the alarm system that will alert the police, We have a large fluffy dog that sheds furiously and you are wearing dark clothing.
The Residents
Saturday, January 13, 2024
Dog Days of Winter
I knew if I waited. . .
Saturday, January 6, 2024
Lorelei Lab says - Round and Yellow is Good!
Woke to the first real snow of the season. A good day for aebleskiver (Danish Pancakes). I don't make them often but since my husband shoveled our walkways and the elderly neighbors', I wanted to surprise him. This is the first time I've made them with sourdough and they turned out better than I had hoped for. But first, a ride in the doggie elevator out to the back yard for some playtime.
If you can find a cast iron aebleskiver pan, get one.
In large bowl blend
1 cup milk, replacing 1 teaspoon of milk with apple cider vinegar or lemon juice and let set at room temperature 5 minutes.
1 cup active sourdough starter (mine today was made with whole wheat pastry flour from Bob's Red Mill)
2 eggs (beaten before adding)
1/4 cup sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 stick unsalted butter melted and cooled for a couple of minutes before adding.
180 grams unbleached flour (roughly 1 ½ cups)
3/4 teaspoon reduced sodium Himalayan Pink Salt
1 Tablespoon Hain Sodium Free Baking powder (or 2 tsp regular b.p.)
3/4 teaspoon EnerG Sodium Free Baking Soda Replacement (or ½ tsp regular baking soda) Blend wet and dry ingredients just until mixed, (may be some small lumps). Heat the Aebleskiver pan until hot (about 10-12 minutes - a drop of water on it should sizzle) and give it a quick spray with non-stick spray (I use an organic Olive Oil one) or brush with a pastry brush with melted butter. Then using a teaspoon, fill the depression to no more than 1/8 inch below the rim. As soon as the Aebleskivers begin to bubble around the edges, use a wooden skewer, knitting needle, or sharp edge of a knife to flip them over half way, letting the batter slide around to fill in the bottom of the cup. Continue cooking, turning the Aebleskiver again to let the batter fill in the remainder of the sphere and continuing to turn until golden brown all the way around and cooked through.
NOTE: plan on totally murdering two or three before you get it right, have small bucket handy to remove the remains.
Serve with powdered sugar, butter, and lingonberries. Or do what my Scandinavian Mom did and put a little piece of apple in the center as it cooks.
Makes about 3 and a half dozen with the pan I have; they freeze really well if placed in a sealed container after cooling completely.Sunday, December 24, 2023
You're a Mean One Mr. Grinch. . .
When Dad cuts a piece of homemade brownie and doesn't give you one. . . . (make sure you have your sound turned up)
Sunday, December 17, 2023
Looking Back
Our wounds, we wear like temporary garments until they are forgotten,
but our stories, we don them as forever.
The Book of Barkley
Wednesday, December 13, 2023
Favorite Foodables - Lasagna Buns
Lasagna ingredients (minus pasta) in a bun. This was a HUGE hit with my husband, though people will sort of look at it initially and go. . .
What???
But after they taste it. . .
1/2 of a roll of Jimmy Deans SPICY breakfast sausage (sage flavor would also work)
1 heaping teaspoon chopped garlic (fill that puppy up)
4-5 slices (ahem) of chopped bacon
Mmmm. Bacon. (but you can substitute veggie "meat" easily in this recipe).
Cook meat and drain fat:
Stir into sauce and add:
1/2 tsp oregano
3 dashes of Jane's Krazy Mixed Up Salt (or your favorite mixed salt, I like Jane's as it's low sodium due to the addition of lots of herbs)
Simmer just until it's bubbling.
While the sauce heats up, in a bowl mix:
1 cup grated mozzarella
1 cup grated sharp cheddar cheese
1/4 cup Parmesan
Set aside about 1/2 cup of that mixture
To remaining shredded cheese add:
1 cup of ricotta cheese
1 teaspoon of egg (white and yolk mixed up and measured out, save rest for breakfast)
1/2 teaspoon dried parsley
a pinch of cayenne
Mix well.
Get 4-6 bratwurst rolls or other larger sized sturdy sandwich rolls and scoop out the middle third (save that for meatloaf later), leaving enough at the bottom so that it holds together, like a sub-shaped bread bowl.
Place a big spoonful of meat sauce inside, top with a couple spoonful's of the cheese mixture, leaving a little open space for the sauce to bubble up through. Place in a cooking pan or tray that you've lightly sprayed with non-stick spray.
Cook in preheated 350 F. oven, covered lightly with foil for 20 minutes.
Remove foil, sprinkle with cheese you set aside and bake another 4-6 minutes until cheese on top melts.