For the longest time I have had an interest in fermented food. Of all sorts. In fact, one could say that I pursued my interest in wine, beer, and distilled beverages (which all involve fermentation) with more vigor than was good for me, and could have spared myself an embarrassment or two by being less of a fan.
But I also like sauerkraut, buttermilk, fermented pickles of all types, kefir, kombucha, tempeh, yogurt, kimchi, miso, and apple cider vinegar. And cheese. OMG – cheese!
So far neither my doctor nor the police department have shown any interest in how much I consume of this latter group of foods, which is a good thing.
Recently I ran across a website promoting this method of preserving food, and devoted to giving clear instructions on how to do it. The owner of the site is very interested in her viewers having success without mishaps.
(Be advised that there is not a lick of information about brewing, winemaking, or moonshine production)
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There is a remarkable woman … hold on there … A remarkable woman? … let me rephrase that. Among the many remarkable women that I have met and never met, there is one that I would like to mention this morning, and her name is Jennifer Berezan.
I was introduced to her work by a fellow AA member quite a while ago, when he loaned me a copy of her album “Returning.” It is basically a meditative song/chant that lasts the entire album, and is a beautiful thing for someone to have added to the world. Someone put the entire 52 minute recording on YouTube.
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As if that weren’t enough, Ms. Berezan put together a concert of yet another chant “In These Arms,” which is two hours long and when you have finished watching it, you have not subtracted those two hours from your life but added something special, I think. The concert is on YouTube along with some commercial interruptions.
It is a thing of joy, and the meditation that underlies the entire performance is one of lovingkindness, or metta. You’re all smart people, you can take it from there.
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Perhaps my enthusiasm has overwhelmed you, and spending hours listening to/watching someone you never heard of before seems like a bit much. Here is a three-minute version of “Song For All Beings: In These Arms”
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So far this year in Paradise we have had two kinds of days with regard to air flow. Either the air is still or it moves down the street at 40 mph or more, causing objects that belong to Robin and I to relocate into the yards of neighbors east of us. Occasionally they just vanish altogether.
Today is one of the breezy ones.
The cats hate windy days. They will stick their heads halfway through the pet door to sample the weather, and a wind velocity more than 15 mph will spin them right around and back into the house. I sympathize. If my nose was only 6 inches off the ground, I would do the same.
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Robin presented me with a problem on Monday morning. She had just purchased this small jar of eyeshadow and couldn’t open it.
I tried for several minutes without success, then told Robin that it was impossible and went back to my reading.
But it bothered me.
So I queried the internet and found that legions of people had experienced the same difficulty, and some of the solutions offered were quite inventive.
Learning that it could be done, I resorted to my usual remedy for household contretemps and applied brute force, using bigger tools.
The jar finally yielded. The real question is – why would Revlon make this jar from hell in the first place? They are not newcomers to the cosmetic world.
Could be Satan’s work, I suppose. Actually, it must be Old Nick, it’s the only explanation that makes sense.
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I learned this morning that our Supreme Court has revealed that they couldn’t identify an insurrection if it bit them on their robe-covered behinds.
I was not surprised at all, and gave them a zero score for the day while I wondered – don’t they at least still have their Cliff’s Notes on the Constitution sitting around somewhere that they could refer to?
Whether it’s reproductive rights or voting rights, this court is doing harm to all of us. They have made themselves into a cynical joke and soundly deserve their dismal approval ratings.
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Once again we have learned that the only Supremes you can count on to do the right thing have Diana Ross singing lead.
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Little Home In The Valley 