RANDOM THOUGHTS.....

 

 A series of short stories.....

Dorothy And Friends Traveling The Yellow Brick Road

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes



I've often wondered why we have a certain 'pull' towards particular persons, places and things over others.....


Is it simply about how (good/happy) another person makes you feel about yourself?  That's not always true.  Many people are thrown into painful and abusive relationships they find difficult, if not impossible, to break away from.  So, circumstances play a major role in the paths that we walk down and, eventually, connect us with people who will become our teachers, lovers, acquaintances, friends, mentors and, possibly, enemies.  Like Dorothy, the yellow brick road that winds through corn fields and dense, shadowy forests into a sunny field of poppies and beyond......is not always a simple road to navigate.  And, the people we meet along the way, friend or foe, are there to guide and strengthen our character as we move forward on this crazy journey called life!

I understand that individuals are placed along our path to interact with us for very specific reasons.  If we believe in ourselves, it is possible to see that each person we meet teaches us a 'life' lesson and, by filtering and categorizing each one, then we can learn to either approve and work with this lesson or use its negativity to guide us to be stronger and more understanding of the world and those around us.  I believe this is called 'character building'......utilizing the circumstances surrounding our life to make it the best it can be.

Ambitiously, we assume that our family will wrap us within its loving arms, guide and protect us, through thick and thin as we shuffle along our individual path.  However, will a best friend or a lover do the same?  We, as humans, want to believe so but, all too often, this is not the case.  A good friend of mine with three young children was going through a nasty divorce, deteriorating financial circumstances and, eventually, an affair 'rooted in loneliness' with a married man.  The divorce was justified, the finances unfortunate and, the affair, brutal on many levels.  As a friend, I could never justify her affair and initially served only to comfort her guilty feelings about it.  Introducing her lover to her children was a cruel scenario as it gave these beautiful kids false hope regarding a possible future with a man who dealt in untruths on a daily basis.

The charm and comfort of the affair wore-off after one very long year when my friend finally learned to believe in the power of 'self' as the internal force that guides us along the shadowy forest path.  As she began to fully comprehend this and decided to place herself and her children on a higher level of importance, her life changed for the better, the affair ended and infinite possibilities opened-up before her.  I assert that the only way to arrive at a 'happy medium' is to experience both extremes, the highs and the lows, ups and downs of a situation and allow your positive and negative observations to be your guide.  By allowing this man to complicate further her already complicated life, my friend was taken to the depths of despair and from there she buoyantly resurfaced with an opened heart that allowed her to love herself again.  I understand that by experiencing the dark path side-by-side with this man, it guided her to the bright path she is on today.  Things do happen for a reason, even if we often stumble in the dark at the beginning of our journey.



Do certain places keep calling us back, tugging at our heartstrings and having us begging for more, more, more?

Alamanda Resort at St. Martin

Since we had honeymooned in Aruba, vacationed each summer on historic Mackinac Island which lies just to the east of St. Ignace in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and, walked for miles along the Sanibel Island shoreline off the Gulf of Mexico in Florida collecting seashells with our daughters for over twenty-six summers......I can safely say that we are drawn to the rhythm of an island beat.  Like species of birds that migrate south to their particular nesting areas or the illuminating Monarch Butterfly that utilizes an internal magnetic compass to direct its flight toward the equator, this family always returned to the sea.....



Orient Beach on St. Martin

Several years ago I was deciding on which French yogurt to purchase for my evening snack while scanning the cooler of a small grocery store near our hotel, the Alamanda Resort, in St. Martin Island located in the northeast Caribbean.  Our home for the week was Orient Beach.....voted as being one of the world's most beautiful beaches!  As with its French counterpart, the Riviera, clothing on this beach is optional.

Encompassed by the most intense colors I have ever observed, taking photographs, walking the beach or shopping for souvenirs in Marigot (St. Martin's most populated city) at the market place by the port, was a profound experience! 


Marigot Market

 

I digress.....  I selected my yogurt as a lovely lady, close to our age, asked me if we were staying in the area.  At this point both of our husbands moved-in closer to join the conversation.  We replied that we were and discovered that they were staying at the Esmeralda Resort just north of us.  They hailed from Ohio and had been returning to Orient Beach for over ten years every September.  We told them that, sadly, the next day was our last full one on the island and we'd be flying home Saturday morning.  "Do both of you partake in what this beach has to offer?" She asked.  "I mean, do you enjoy sunbathing in the nude?  Because, if that is what you like, the four of us could meet on the beach tomorrow for the day!"

Oh, we tried so hard to not look surprised!  I don't think it worked, though.  They both picked-up on it right away, thank goodness!  I would have thought my distinct tan lines were a dead giveaway?  They were very gracious, however, and told us about several unique (clothing necessary) attractions on the island we'd not seen yet and then said their good-byes after wishing us a safe trip back to the States.  We had just been hit on and, in a weird and unusual way, it was strangely flattering!?  Two outwardly mature adults paid for their strawberry yogurt that balmy Caribbean night and proceeded to giggle, hand-in-hand, all the way back to their room.

A Monarch Butterfly sits on a tree trunk at the Sierra Chincua Sanctuary in the mountains of Mexico.
(Photo: AP/Marco Ugarte)

I leave you with a quote by Jody Marr in an article she had written for Liquid Salt Magazine entitled THE SEA WITHIN US:

"The human body has almost the same proportions of calcium, sodium and potassium as the ocean. It pulses in our veins.

We migrate to the sea with precision and purpose as soon as the cords to our childhood are cut. God has set our internal compass to lead us toward a salty body of water; like birds migrating south via some ancient, ancestral, homing instinct.

It’s a way of life. A need. A yearning. It hums in us everyday. We swim in the water like otters. It cloaks around us like the warm fluid of the womb."

 

"Passion is energy.  Feel the power that comes from focusing on what excites you."

 

Copyright © 2014 By Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

A WORK IN PROGRESS

A series of short stories.....

My Office

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


Work with which an artist or writer is engaged but which is not completed or approaching completion. 

A piece of work that is not yet finished.

                                                             Merriam-Webster Dictionary
                                                 

                                                            ***

Before

Work In Progress

Our latest kitchen challenge (major renovation) has left me happy, exhausted, frustrated at times, feeling highly creative and, strangely philosophical!  Who knew that last one would even be in the mix?  When I really think about it......it makes plenty of sense.

To begin at the beginning, this entire project was initially slated for the summer of 2010 with a full make-over including new cabinets, flooring, new appliances and tossing out the old, white kitchen sink for a sleek, zero-radius stainless steel beauty!  Well, that didn't happen.  Somehow, life got in the way.  It has a habit of doing that you know.  Trust me, that white kitchen sink remained exactly where it was.

Things do happen for a reason.

As with our Master Bath renovation of two years ago, we have learned the importance of the thought process that goes into a project of this magnitude with regard to expense, time, labor and repurposing of materials.  The sheer joy of repurposing has truly elevated my spirits as I plug-away daily at resurfacing our original maple cabinets leaving chocolate brown 'glaze-prints' on places they were never intended.


Samples (Check-Out the Pink Tiles)

I believe that by being able to rip-out the original 13" x 13" pink porcelain floor tiles gave both of us concrete inspiration, hope and the pure essence of the feeling of Joy!  It was a highly cathartic release, as well.  They had not been my friend for over fourteen years of water spots, footprints, wet paw prints, and not-so-subtle cracks.  Replacing them with 'natural stone' was an innate progression.


Making our 'snail's paced' progress through this work has offered me insights and ideas about so many other things happening in my life right now that run parallel with our kitchen reno.  While the paint is drying, I sip soothing green tea from a floral mug and contemplate having to say good-bye this afternoon to my friend, Eliane.  She is flying back to her homeland, Belgium, for three months and will return to Florida in October.  I will Skype with her while she's away.  I will come to terms with the beautiful fact that friendships can become stronger in times of absence.  And, because of this, I will realize that our friendship is 'a work in progress.'  Still, I will miss her dearly....



Painting New Bookshelf For Kitchen

I apply a glossy second coat of (storm gray) paint to an upper cabinet door and disguise its honey-maple past life in a matter of a few swipes of my brush.  Dan has removed its inner front panels so that clear glass will eventually allow my wine glasses to observe our every movement in the kitchen at all times.  Great, stalking wine glasses!  Instead of tossing out such 'potential for a new purpose' four years ago, as we originally planned, those glasses will find a new home in a perfectly good cabinet that has been injected with new life and fresh possibilities.  Perfection!




"Scattered Construction Debris"

Since Dan has been classified as the Weekend Warrior and handles the heavy-stuff two days out of the week, I do what I do best.....sand, paint, glaze and strategize during the remaining five days.  Unfortunately, my plan of action for the organization of cupboard contents is wearing exceedingly thin and I find myself navigating trails around the house carved from stacked cookbooks, boxes filled with various sized dishes and the scattered debris of kitchen components waiting to be salvaged and used.  I'm fairly certain our kitchen sneezed during the night producing this maddening results!  "It's merely 'a work in progress' and will be resolved as soon as possible," the little voice inside my head keeps telling me.  And, I know it's true.

When I am compelled to take a longer break from the action, I slip into my office for a few hours to resume my life as writer and comfortably slip back into another world.....one where I seemingly lose all control so that my mind is completely open to any and all possibilities.  I love this world.  I am home here.  This world and the book being created are definitely 'works in progress' and consume my very being while I traverse its endless terrain and navigate the thoughts of everyone who resides there.  This is my world and welcome to it.....eventually.


 



Skype, mentioned above, is the preferred software application that keeps me in touch with family and friends living a distance away.  And, with all of my 'little ones' up in Michigan, I'm on the computer Skyping as often as possible.  Isn't technology wonderful?  When I not only get to hear their beautiful voices but, am allowed to see and enjoy their sweet faces, life is good.  Interacting with our youngest daughter's three children this morning made me realize that even though we are separated geographically, I am gifted the chance to observe their emotional and physical growth on a regular basis. They are the most positive 'works in progress' that I am aware of in my life today!  Watching each child move forward towards his or her maturation and spiritual development is a goal worthy of my deepest consideration and time and, I will never take this for granted.  The bear hugs lovingly given and multitude of kisses I plant on their tiny faces and heads are stored-up and evenly dispersed among the five 'little ones' every opportunity we take to visit throughout the year.

The lessons I've learned by writing this little piece today are simple yet profound.  And, to share them with you is confirmation enough for me as to their truth and authority within all of our lives.  We're all in this together; this thing called 'Life.'  Label it a relationship, a project big or small, a creative endeavor worked on with painstaking attention to detail or, the act of nurturing a small child so that he or she is better prepared to take-on the world as an adult.......one thing is for certain: We're all 'a work in progress' and the ticket is knowing that we should never stop progressing!

Copyright © 2014 By Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

CHRISTOPHER MCCANDLESS SYNDROME.....OR NOT?

 A series of short stories.....

The Magic Bus of Christopher McCandless

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

I have often speculated as to just what it is that pulls each one of us in certain directions throughout our lives whether it be work related or, simply, pleasure oriented.  And, I might mention here that I am exceedingly happy for all of you who have successfully been able to combine the two scenarios......for you are the fortunate ones!

"You must have ants in your pants!  Why can't you just sit still?"  How many times did I hear my beautiful Mother say these words to me?  It was a foregone conclusion that those afore mentioned ants would segue into the reality of being antsy, a word that has described my personality for years.  It would show in the 'need to be anywhere else other than where I was at that moment' to, physically doing the opposite of what was expected of me to, after owning our first home, needing to rearrange the furniture as often as possible. 

One thing I always knew about myself was that by placing my feelings and ideas into written words, my journals and notes helped to soothe a restless soul....release anxieties and frustrations.  Like the drummer in a rock band, my keyboard (pen or pencil) was my trusty drumstick beating out a song of highly sustained rhythm in the hopes of attaining total freedom.

Leo Tolstoy

All of these current thoughts surfaced this week due to a quote from Christopher McCandless which went, "Happiness, only real when shared."  His journals claim that he was in reference to a passage from a novella written by Leo Tolstoy published in 1859 and entitled Family Happiness.  A passage from this novella is quoted in the book, Into the Wild, written by Jon Krakeuer in 1996 about the travels of Christopher McCandless into the wilderness of Alaska, and adapted into a film of the same name by Sean Penn in 2007.  Both book and movie involved the life of this young man who had rejected civilization and openly relished 'survival mode' in a remote area of Denali National Park and Preserve in Alaska in April of 1992.

Another quote from the works of Leo Tolstoy and found highlighted by Chris went, "I wanted movement and not a calm course of existence.  I wanted excitement and danger and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love.  I felt in myself a superabundance of energy which found no outlet in our quiet life." 

This is an example of how strong the shear power of the written word can be, especially with regards to Chris McCandless, (also known by his alter ego, Alexander Supertramp).  Chris was found starved to death in an abandoned bus he called home and weighing only sixty-seven pounds.  How does Chris relate to Leo Tolstoy?  According to Wikipedia, "An extremely intense young man, McCandless had been captivated by the writings of Leo Tolstoy.  He particularly admired the fact that the great novelist had forsaken a life of wealth and privilege to wander among the destitute."  For several years, he had been emulating (Tolstoy's) asceticism and moral rigor to a degree that astonished and alarmed those who knew him well.




Chris McCandless in Alaska ~
Courtesy of Wikipedia

Many of Chris' actions were inspired by literature.  When he was found in the bus in Alaska, he had in his possession five heavily marked-up books written by Jack London, a writer known for stories about the wilderness, Individualism and Naturalism.  Henry Thoreau, a writer who was known for his philosophy of Transcendentalism (living life to its fullest in order to understand life), was a philosophy in which Chris adopted as his own.  Including Tolstoy, "These authors played an integral role in developing Chris' personality and, if it weren't for the presence of his literary heroes during the time he grew-up and the last days of his life, Christopher McCandless would not have died at peace with himself."

 

 

I truly believe Chris died as he had lived....at peace with himself and with nature.

I'm not saying that I need to "live off the land" by hunting wildlife and scrounging for wild berries to make-up my next meal and sustain me.  I can relate, however, with the general philosophy of appreciating the 'fruits' of this magnificent planet, as well as the incomparable beauty it showers down upon us via its valleys, mountains, flowers and rivers!  Like Chris, Jack, Henry and Leo, I seek the power captured within just one grain of sand; admire an Irish hillside lush with 'forty shades of green' and alive with sheep as far as the eye can see; relish the simplicity of routinely walking to the Boulangerie to purchase the daily bread (baguette) and, marvel at the pure solitude of a wooded walk on a gloriously sunny afternoon in September with a good book in hand.

Nature and literature speak to me every single day.  If I am not capturing nature in pictures in one moment, you can be certain I am writing (or reading) about it instead. 

Ireland 2013

Christopher McCandless, it was later determined, was slowly poisoned and became paralyzed by eating massive amounts of toxic wild-potato seeds in an attempt to survive but it rendered him unable to hunt or forage.  Irony at its darkest point.  It was not arrogance that killed this lovely, open-hearted young man, it was ignorance.  I refused to believe that anyone who became known for saying that the happiness we enjoy in this lifetime is meant to be shared with others could possibly be suicidal. "I've decided I am going to live this life for some time to come.  The freedom and simple beauty is just too good to pass up."  This was a man who openly relished the gifts of nature that surrounded him and whose order of the day was to live life to its fullest.

The History Channel on cable television has highlighted many of these 'maverick' individuals, men and woman, who share the love of nature along with Chris McCandless.  Mountain Men, airing on Sunday evenings, is my favorite by far.  Haven't we all wanted to explore the far reaches of the Alaskan wilderness, implement the ancestral techniques for tanning hides in northwestern Montana or learn wilderness survival skills in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina?  Marty, Tom and Eustace have guided my 'alter ego' through the natural beauty of the rugged lands they call 'Home' and I always hunger to learn more!

Literature can invariably play the role of guide, trapper, teacher and friend as we discover, via the written word, worlds far beyond our own reach and imaginations.  Books transport their readers through time and space......as we explore the realities of history and speculate about the possibilities of co-habitation on other planets.  When a subject arises, you can bet that someone has written about it at one time or another.

I have not seen Sean Penn's movie about the life and death of Christopher McCandless.  Someday, perhaps, I will.




River in Oughtergard, Ireland

Until then, you will always find me with a book in my hand and the idea that this busy world will slow down just long enough to allow me to read a chapter or two at a time.  Or, maybe take a few interesting photographs with my trusty Canon EOS.  And, when the opportunity to travel to places unknown to me arises, I will explore, discover and write about each and every adventure with the desire to sooth my restless soul while discovering freedom and the happiness within me that only becomes real when shared with others.
I leave you with one of my favorite quotes by an unsettled, young man whose love of nature combined with a heart that was wide-open to all of life's possibilities left us far too soon......

"The core of man's spirit comes from new experiences. If you want something in this life, reach out and grab it.”
― Christopher McCandless

Chris in the Wilds of Alaska ~ Courtesy of Outside Magazine

Copyright © 2014 By Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

FALLING IN LOVE AGAIN IN SABLET

 

 A series of short stories.....

A Feast For Two

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes



Several years ago, in celebration of our Wedding Anniversary, my husband and I decided to return to France.  This time, the play of warmth and light in sunny Provence called to us like a lavender scent carried along by a gentle breeze. 

Research of the many beautiful hilltop villages that dot the southern landscape of France began around a year before our September celebration.  Considering it was to mark our initial venture into this particular region, we concentrated on several main criteria which included a central location to the major sites we wished to explore this trip, convenience to and from the Nice Cote d'Azur Airport via rental car, as well as successfully finding the perfect gite (furnished vacation rental home) to comfortably spend a week in.  We wanted our place to be a home away from home!



Grapevines Below Sablet

Personally, researching a trip is my favorite part because I learn so much about the area long before we even arrive there.  We concentrated on the Vaucluse Region for many reasons, with the wines of the Rhone River valley being of particular interest to us.  I wanted to learn about these cultivated vines that had been initially planted sometime around 600 BC and walk the small alleyways of the village of Chateauneuf-du-Pape tasting samples of each variety of this heavenly nectar of the gods passed down through the ages!



Roussillon on a Stormy Day

Avignon....Bedoin....Carpentras, slowly we discovered the towns and villages of the Vaucluse via the Internet.  Roussillon was exceptionally beautiful and noted for its large ochre deposits found in the clay surrounding it.  Alas, we did not choose this magical place for our stay. The day we actually visited Roussillon, the entire village was basked in a red hue everywhere you looked.  A large storm was heading directly toward us creating a brilliant backdrop of deep color and light making picture taking phenomenal that afternoon. 

Hilltop Village of Sablet with the Jagged Dentelles de Montmiraile as Backdrop

We discounted the stunning hilltop village of Gordes because of its strong tourist appeal; Beaumes Du Venise ranked exceptionally high on our list meeting all of our criteria and more but, I just wasn't feeling 'it' yet.  And then I was introduced to a small, walled city located north of Orange by the name of Sablet and the 'warm fuzzies' (as my daughter, Ali, calls them) suddenly enveloped me in a feeling of profound security as though I were wrapped in a favorite blanket on a cold, winter's night.  I felt I had discovered 'home' within the Vaucluse. Our 'gite' had to be located in Sablet because I could feel it in my bones that day.



Front Door of Sablet House

Fast forward to a warm, overcast day in mid-September and two people partake of a simple but delicious feast purchased that morning at the open-market of Bedoin near Mont Ventoux.  Elongated French radishes, the color of delicate red and white flowers, rest on a hand-painted porcelain dish, a still life photograph waiting to be captured.  Similar platters and bowls cradle juicy, red strawberries hand-picked merely hours before.  A variety of French cheeses, ripe Brie headlining the aromatic medley, are displayed on a wooden cutting board and positioned alongside a shallow bowl containing a golden loaf of crusty baguette anticipating being pulled-apart, slathered in rich, homemade butter and eaten with reverence and love!  A slightly chilled bottle of local Northern Rhone red, often identified by its signature aromas of green olives and smoky bacon, regally stands at attention waiting to be uncorked so that it may 'breathe' before being poured into the crystal glasses beside it.




Dan Pressing Our Breakfast Coffee

We were sitting at one of the two terraces that made-up the outdoor living area of (Sablet House), owned by Michel and Shirley Augsburger who purchased the beautiful stone village house located in the heart of the medieval village of Sablet.  Michel relates how "...the house was fully renovated by an English lady with all of the comforts of a modern home while retaining its authentic Provençal character and charm."  Located just off of the gourmet kitchen, two sets of French doors led us out to our Anniversary luncheon feast on this large terrace.  We could not believe our good fortune but relished it with gusto!!

A Morning Visit to the Local Boulangerie



Bell Tower of Saint Nazaire

Sablet, along with Sablet House, was our home for a week and we fell in love with each one.  This feeling lingers within us to this day.  The village of Sablet, 1,200 souls strong, is located at the base of the jagged Dentelles de Montmiraile in the Vaucluse region of Provence.  The narrow streets of the village spiral up to the Romanesque Church of Saint Nazaire built in the 12th century and tops the village with its majestic bell tower that reaches up towards the heavens.  The stone village houses curl along the narrow streets that reveal passageways adorned with flowers of every color, expose ancient wooden beams and a variety of beautiful stone fountains.  Along the lower terrace of the village we discovered two boulangeries (bakeries), a boucherie (butcher shop), a florist and a tabac shop among several local restaurants and more.  Dan would walk down to his favorite boulangerie each morning for his pain au chocolate (chocolate croissants) and then run back up to our house to press coffee to go with them.




Biking Up To Seguret

Michel had purchased new bicycles prior to our arrival and we enjoyed the privilege of touring the charming village streets, as well as  biking up the D23 towards another hilltop village, Seguret, with its elevation overlooking Sablet and the many vineyards surrounding it.  Riding down from Seguret, I captured my first picture of 'cloud to land' lightening strikes as it crashed far off in the distance to the west of Sablet.  I was as excited as a child with her first camera! 

Sablet was the perfect location to begin a day of exploration.  Packing our silver Citroen rental car with essential goodies including a camera and an empty market basket that we planned to fill with fresh produce as we stopped in towns and villages along our way.  Conveniently, Michel posted the 'open market' schedules in our kitchen which made it easier for us to decide which direction to explore each day. 



Small Stone Chapel in Nyons

We drove north and were charmed by the beauty of Nyons and climbed to the very top cloaked in a soft September mist as we navigated its narrow streets by foot.  Our reward for the climb was a beautiful small, stone chapel and a spectacular view of the town and vineyards below. 

We drove south as far as the ancient village of Les Baux-De-Provence and discovered for ourselves why it is classified as "one of the most beautiful villages in France."  It is an ancient village, carefully restored and only accessible by foot.  At the summit of the village rests the ruins of the Citadel des Baux (ancient fortress) where the views are absolutely endless.



Below the Pont du Gard

We drove west to the ancient Roman aqueduct bridge, Pont du Gard, that crosses the Gardon River near Nimes.  The bridge has three levels and may date as far back as 20 BC! 

Venturing eastward, we went antique shopping in the picturesque village of L'Isle-sur-la Sorgue, enjoyed a delicious lunch at an open terrace just outside The Palace of the Pope in the city of Avignon and, late one rainy, overcast afternoon, we discovered the village of Chateauneuf-du-Pape.  Walking inside a 'cave' (wine cellar) we joined others who were interested in learning the history behind the Rhone wine region.  We were not disappointed.  The hour-long demonstration was constantly laced by questions and answers and we walked away quite happy with our newfound knowledge of area wines.           

Entering a Cave at Chateauneuf-du-Pape



Learning the History of Rhone River Valley Wines



Our View From the Upper Terrace

As spectacular as each of these daily adventures were, we took great comfort in the knowledge that we would be returning to our 'home' in Sablet in the evenings, kicking off our shoes and relaxing on the smaller upper terrace that adjoined the Master Bedroom.  Here we  observed the stars sparkling above the Dentelles in the distance. 



The Romance and Beauty of Sablet House

Standing side-by-side holding hands and with a glass of local Rosé raised in the air with the other, we gave cheers and praise to this small, hilltop village we called our home for a short time that glorious September in Provence.... 


To see Michel's Sablet House visit:
www.sablethouse.com

To see Marianne Houlahan's House in Sablet go to:
www.sablethome.com
 





Copyright © 2014 By Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

MY COLLECTIONS, PART III

Kitchen Essentials

A series of short stories.......

Divi Divi Tree, Picture Courtesy of Wikimedia

........as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


Life proceeds to tumble down its often rocky and bumpy path, as occasional smooth stretches dot its progress, delight us for their duration and keep us motivated to continue on.......

Sadly, circumstances over this past weekend claimed the life of one of my high school classmates.  Greg Straka was a 'gentle giant' with a heart of gold and we shared space together in Mr. Dallariva's typing class.  We never gave one thought about how important learning the 'keyboard' would be with reference to the emerging computer world before us.  Greg's wry sense of humor would punctuate the click-clacking sounds of the machines every time and even Coach Dallariva was prone to cracking a smile more often than not, asserting gentle discipline as required. 

This world will miss you deeply, old friend.  Thank you for the laughter.......

                                
                                        *********************************

Yesterday was spent depleting kitchen cabinets of their fifteen-year-old build-up of what were once deemed the 'essentials' of modern culinary life.  Defined in the dictionary as, "A thing that is absolutely necessary....," the word (essential) loses its luster when an expiration date exceeds the age of our oldest grandchild or, upon releasing an item from the back corner of a cupboard, I have to question when it was last used or, better still, when did I even acquire it!?!

Kitchens can be spooky places if left all alone in the wild!  Especially when one is not used to entrapping, adding to and generally ignoring their contents for an extended period of time.  I have never lived in any given space this many years, consecutively.  How was I to know?  I would almost label myself a hoarder after yesterday's excursion if it weren't for the fact that everything was in its place, if not often coated with a layer of fine dust, and neatly living behind cute wooden doors.



Honeymoon Mementos Tin

Don't even get me started on the inexcusable 'dead zone' located in the corner where most builders would assume a corner cabinet or a lazy Susan might alleviate 'hoarding anxiety.'  Susan, even though Wikipedia proclaims that it's likely that the explanation of who you were has been lost to history, I would happily welcome you into my jammed and dark kitchen corner any old time. 

Now, don't misunderstand me.....our kitchen renovation is fairly straightforward and something we deem entirely necessary with regards to breaking into the new millennium!  And, it's made me as happy as a child on Easter morning hunting for colorful eggs filled with candy and coins every time I rediscover a useful cooking utensil or a cookbook that hasn't been perused in ages.  This is exactly why I turned this amusing experience into an adventure yesterday after the third cupboard was excavated in order to find its buried remains (contents!).

It all began in the 'dead zone' when a rectangular tin was carefully extracted from the darkness, dusted-off and then placed on the only existing counter top.  Not having seen the 'light of day' for years, opening it up made me a bit squeamish even though, deep down, I knew what I would discover inside.  Long, long ago but not too far away from our current location in Florida, my husband and I honeymooned on the island of Aruba, not far off the coast of Venezuela.  Yes, before the deep sadness accompanying the death of Natalee Holloway, we genuinely experienced the quaintness of this small, arid island along with the hospitality and warmth of the local people.  Originally a Dutch island, Aruba's people worked hard to gain independence and in January 1986 it seceded from the Netherlands Antilles to officially become a country within the Kingdom of the Netherlands.

French Daube Cooking Pot

Amid the divi divi trees that grow at a forty-five degree angle because of the wind that blows constantly and the groups of wild donkeys that roam the dry, sandy landscape of Aruba, we gambled in the local casinos, dined on five-star meals and poured room-temperature goat's milk on our cereal in the morning (Well, Dan did, anyway).  That's when I began my first major 'travel collection' and brought home small mementos of our time on the island.  As a child, I would always bring home stones or small rocks from the places my family vacationed at hoping to capture a tiny piece of the area.  To this day, I continue to do this everywhere I travel.  That was the first item I saw upon lifting the tin lid......a small gray, jagged rock picked-up on the wild northern side of the island, along with a small glass jar filled with sand from the beach, a golf tee Dan used to play one of the most 'primitive' rounds of golf in his life and a champagne cork......this item is wonderfully self-explanatory! Delightful memories of a special time.

Okay, so that wasn't so bad after all.  Kind of fun....truth be told.  Finding that tin box again had me thinking about other kitchen items I have in plain sight or tucked away in cabinets that were lovingly thought about, chosen and purchased or found in places we travelled to throughout the years.  I began to keep this idea in mind as I proceeded to 'pick the carcass clean' as if my poor, outdated kitchen were the turkey at Thanksgiving and now someone had to save all of the meat for sandwiches later!




Pint of Guinness

Daube de Bouef Provençal is a recipe I had been trying to perfect even before our initial visit to France years ago.  It has become our traditional Christmas Eve meal when the family is all together at our house for the Holidays.  Simply served with copious amounts of good French bread for soaking-up all the delicious wine infused broth and a fantastic dessert at the end to round-out the meal, we're good-to-go until Christmas Day breakfast!! 

"Jackie, did you know the French traditionally slow cook this recipe in a clay steam pot over low heat for several days before serving?  I have several pots you can see.....," offered my friend, Daniele, during our stay at Le Verger in the Luberon.  Daniele and her husband, Jean-Philippe, were born and raised in Provence and run the most beautiful B&B in the area located just south of Gordes.  Of course, I fell in love.......with these charming pots, and made it my mission to acquire one.  I had an entire week to do so.  After scouring many outdoor markets (le marche), I found my Daube pot in a small kitchen shop in Bedoin, a handsome small town at the foot of Mont Ventoux.  Merely looking at it everyday conjures up so many wonderful memories of family, great friends and delicious food!



Guinness Glasses Survive Trip Home

Now, what is more Irish than a 'pint o'Guinness' and the actual pint glass the Guinness is poured into?  Sipping out of these at home takes me back to many, many Irish pubs all along its rustic Western Way and back again to Dublin City and its birthplace in 1759 at the St. James' Gate Brewery.  Naturally, these beauties take 'top dawg' position in the 'glasses' cupboard considering we don't have a personal pub at home.  Do you believe that a connoisseur of drinking Guinness (Aren't we all?) might balk at the idea of "double pouring" milk in these pints for dinner? 


Then there was my quest in Paris to find my madeleine tin (mold) and covered rectangular French butter dish.....

Golden Madeleine Cakes

Ah.....Madeleines!!  Madeleines are small French butter cakes that have the consistency of sponge cake and are formed in shell-shaped molds and are the perfect accompaniment for a small, strong cup of coffee!  Anytime!  I found my personal copy of Larousse Gastronomique, the encyclopedia of the study of food and culture, many years ago in East Lansing, Michigan, and it has been lovingly earmarked as my classic cooking reference.  It suggests that these buttery little delicacies were named for a 19th-century pastry cook, Madeleline Paulmier.  Merci beaucoup, Madamoiselle Paulmier!



Buttery Yellow Butter Dish and Madeleline Tin

While hunting for the madeleine tin at Le Bon Marche, built by Gustave Eiffel in 1852, and considered one of the city's most popular department stores, a soft yellow butter dish caught my attention.  Fortunately, both of these kitchen essentials fit neatly in my suitcase because they were considered mine from the moment I saw them.  We use the butter dish constantly and keep rectangular slabs of Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter in it.  A bit of cultural commingling is quite healthy and definitely encouraged in my kitchen.

I've mentioned before that our family visit to Ireland way back in 1990 brought us to the small village of Adare just south of Limerick and the River Shannon.  An old thatched-roofed cottage was, and still is, the home to a small but delightful shop that caters to the many tourists that pass through Adare either by rental car or Irish tour buses that jam hundreds of people into the smallest spots at any given time.  Fortunately, we arrived there between buses and were able to look around the shop in comfort and that's when I found A Little Irish Cookbook by John Murphy.  This little gem has been my guide to traditional Irish fare for years.  From an Irish Farmhouse Breakfast on the Dingle peninsula, to a lunch of traditional Boxty (potato dish), and baked Limerick ham served with boiled potatoes and Brussels sprouts to polish-off the day! 




A True 'Gem' of a Recipe Book

The hand drawn and colored renditions of each dish in this little book adds a large dollop of pure Irish charm.  According to its author, "All I can say is that if a visitor to Ireland were to encounter only what is in this book during a short stay then he would be satisfied that he had eaten well in the Irish style."  Like I said.....golden!!

From the sunny beaches of Aruba to the craggy foothills of Mont Ventoux in the south of France, my journey continues as I will always find the space in my kitchen for recipes, pots and tins that evoke memories of places and cultures we've taken the time to absorb within our hearts.  My little foray into the 'dead zone' proved to be most pleasurable after all.

 

Copyright © 2014 By Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

A WRITER'S INTROSPECTION OF 'HOME'........

A series of short stories......

Home Cooking Right From The Garden To The Table

.......as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


"It's just four walls with a roof to keep the rain off your head but, it's what I call home!" 

You recognize this line.....from almost every Western film or vintage black and white movie you can remember watching on a cold and rainy Saturday afternoon during your childhood!  I certainly do.  Let's interject an "Awe shucks, Ma'am" here and there or, tweak it a bit with 'chestnuts roasting' over the brick hearth and an elderly gentleman bouncing one grandchild on his knee while several others, seated on the floor in front of him, intently listen to his stories. 

 



Pebbled Path

The Irish storytellers are well known for helping to keep the past alive.  Both ancient tales and poems were told by the seanchaithe (servant to the chief of the tribe) or bard (Celtic order of minstrel poets),  and each served as the custodian of an indigenous oral tradition, traveling from one community to another offering their skills of storytelling in exchange for food and temporary shelter. 

Makers of Documentaries, writers, poets, photographers, grandparents.....each share an essential position in personal and public chronicles that organize our past, identify the present and serve to enlighten the future for generation after generation to come. 

The actual physical home made of brick and mortar, as the old saying goes, has always been my barometer for calculating and categorizing all of the emotional aspects of my time here on earth.  My father's occupation as I was growing-up had me and my immediate family moving from one place to another on a yearly basis.  By the time we settled in one location for more than a year's time, I was already fourteen years old.  Prior to this time, my life had been spliced together like so many reels of 8mm film and resembled distinct chapters of an autobiographical book, making it easy for me to immediately recall individual features of my past.  Each rental property I called 'home' became almost as important to me as the friends I had met, allowed into my life and then said good-bye to a year down the road.  For myself.....each place we lived in had four walls with a roof above but, most importantly, it provided the glue that helped to hold the pieces of my nomadic lifestyle together and in some semblance of order.

Rainy Day Blues

My Dear Mother, given what she had to work with and around, always seemed to make each house feel like our home.  She adapted well and made new living room draperies from the ones she had repurposed in the last house.  Dad was usually given permission by the 'owner' to paint the walls in a neutral color if he deemed it necessary so, we existed in a series of off-white and beige environments, for the most part.  The soft, warm ruby-red sofa my Mother had reupholstered herself always interjected the vibrancy and cheer she felt was necessary in such sterile surroundings.  I do not recall the exact fate of that sofa.  I only remember how much I loved it!

One major regret my Mother usually expressed upon each move was that she was not allowed the opportunity to physically change the landscaping of the properties we rented and provide more color and personality to the exterior spaces.  Thinking back, however, I cannot recall there being colorful pots or planters filled with flowers and placed on porches or near walkways to accommodate her green thumb and desires.  I imagine that after a few years and so many houses down the road, her wishes were more in the form of permanency and ownership rather than minute yearly fixes.

Lavender, Rosemary, Basil and Italian Parsley

After graduating high school and moving into my dorm room on campus at Michigan State, I began to formulate a clearer view of my future home with respect to color, comfort and design.  So, by the time I was married several years later, a passion for decorating emerged and was amply applied to the first home we built in Eaton Rapids, Michigan.  This adorable 1200 sq. ft. Cape Cod style house had at least four walls with a high-pitched, shingled roof over the top and it was our home (mainly the bank's), a blank canvas to supply color and texture to, landscape, live...laugh...love in, and a solid place to raise two precious young daughters.

Library Table With Family Pictures

We lived and enjoyed and added-on to this little gem of a home before moving-on a little over eight years later!  I will always hold dear the recollections of our young family creating so many wonderful 'first times' in that house......and never agonizing over having to unpack boxes someplace new each year.  This was a gift gladly given to our little girls.

Presently, I remain fortunate to have four substantial block walls with a sturdy, shingled roof to withstand high winds (hopefully) and keep the rain from the 'collision of Gulf and Atlantic sea breezes each afternoon' off of my head.  Phew!  Our location since becoming empty nesters eighteen years ago may have changed, however, the passion for renewing and improving the environment surrounding us has not.

Poolside Beauty

The paint used to 'color our world' on the inside today is low odor with zero VOCs (Volatile Organic Compounds) and a portion of the flooring is sustainable, strand-woven bamboo (guaranteed with a low VOC rating).  My Francophile tendencies have been honed and intensified by being able to plant flowers and herbs in colorful porcelain pots to be enjoyed year round thus mimicking an inviting Provençal lifestyle right in my backyard!  My beautiful new friend, Eliane, who is from Belgium, came to our home yesterday for the first time before she and I enjoyed a wonderful lunch and conversation at Season's 52 in Orlando.  Even though our current kitchen renovation left a light layer of construction dust here and there, Eliane proclaimed, " Why, I think you must be a Princess getting to live in this pretty house!"  I believe my husband would elevate my status to a 'spoiled queen' more than likely.....

Did I mention that we have been recycling ever since moving in here over fourteen years ago?

My home has become a true haven for me in terms of my writing.  I have a certain spot I sit down at early each morning where I can rest my coffee mug nearby and open-up my iPad and click on 'My Writing' app. The best time of my day has officially begun!!  Since I require a  bit of structure in my life, following this daily routine has helped to develop solid writing habits with positive productivity.  The only break allowed is to go to the kitchen to fetch a coffee refill.  I find myself stretching my back and legs while standing at the counter.  Some authors have penned their best works while standing according to PR Daily.  They include Ernest Hemingway, Vladimir Nabokov, Phillip Roth, Lewis Carroll and Thomas Wolfe with reasoning that allows for knee problems, extreme height and, in Phillip Roth's case, pacing as he thinks while claiming to walk a half mile for every page he writes.  When studies show that sitting more than six hours a day will lead to a premature death, I can surly grasp this concept.



Lacy Shadows On A Bedroom Door

Lastly, I refer back to 'construction dust' mentioned earlier.  Yes, after successfully tackling our Master Bath a year and a half ago, the Hughes Crew is at it again!  This go-around it's a kitchen makeover with new flooring, appliances, sink and faucet all done in our 'spare time!'  Is there really such an animal, I ask?  I will keep you updated.....

According to The Free Dictionary: House, a structure serving as a dwelling for one or more persons, especially for a family.  Home, a place where one lives, offering an environment of security and happiness; a valued place regarded as a refuge or place of origin.

Creating Construction Dust

I've always made a distinction between a house and a home for very good reasons.  A house may be the four walls with a roof to keep the rain off your head but, it is only a structure, built to provide us with the protection from the elements that we all need.  What we all want and desire, however, is a home.....a place that, likewise, offers us protection.  But, in addition, a home wraps you in a state of being free from danger or harm.  A home cultivates the possibility of enjoying happiness by enhancing the quality of life and the values we live by within a cohesive family unit.  A home can bring its inhabitants great joy, harmony and contentment.

Growing up, most of our rental houses became our homes for the duration simply because my family lived, laughed and employed a positive attitude while living in them; our refuge as a family unit.
Today, I can joyfully recall each house I have ever resided in as a wife, mother, neighbor and friend.  They have given me such pleasure and continue to fill my heart with the satisfaction of knowing that those who enter our Home will always be welcomed and loved.

Summertime Bliss

Note: I dedicate this story and my heart to the memory of a great lady who will be forever missed and never forgotten.....May you rest in peace, Maya Angelou.


Copyright © 2014 By Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved