“This magical, marvelous food on our plate, this substance we absorb, has a story to tell. It is a journey.”

Posted September 22, 2023 by katry
Categories: Musings

Today is another lovely day, a day to hit the road and wander the cape. Maybe I’ll take all lefts this time. I did get to the dump yesterday but didn’t get any groceries. Last night I cooked spaghetti. I left the package on the counter. I didn’t expect it to be an enticement for Nala. I was wrong. I saw her with a few pieces of spaghetti in her mouth as she escaped out the dog door. The rest of the spaghetti was on the floor. Picking up spaghetti is not an easy task. It tends to break into smaller pieces. Nala was right beside me the whole time.

When I was young, we used to have pajama parties. Many were birthday parties. We’d arrive wearing our pajamas and carrying a pillow and a blanket. We’d stay up talking, laughing and eating junk until the wee hours. Mostly we’d be in the living room. At some point in the evening, one parent or the other would start periodically yelling for us to settle down. We always quietly laughed, but eventually we’d fall sleep on the floor wherever we could find room. Breakfast was always donuts and juice. As soon as I got home, I’d take a nap.

My mother usually served what she knew we’d eat at supper. The meat and the potatoes were never the problems. It was the vegetables. Carrots were mashed with potatoes in sort of a disguise so we’d eat them. For years, I thought mashed potatoes were orangey. She never served any beans except green beans or wax beans, both from a can, but I never really thought of them as beans. They were the wrong shape. My favorite vegetables were baby peas and niblet corn.

Ghana expanded my palate. I had no choice but to eat mostly unfamiliar foods. The only foods I recognized were tomatoes and onions, and I never used to eat tomatoes. During training I remember wondering what the green stuff was we were served for dinner. I didn’t eat it. It was kontomire, a stew made with cocoyam leaves. There they were, cocoyam leaves, another mystery food. I used to buy groundnut paste, peanut butter by a different name. I’d add a bit of groundnut oil to thin the paste which Ghanaians used as a soup base. I learned to like okro, garden eggs, groundnut stew, fufu, t-zed, yams, plantain, one of my favorites, pawpaw ( papaya) and mangoes. The fruit was spectacular: sweet green oranges, pineapple, bananas, coconut and the new to me fruits, pawpaw and mangoes. I never liked kontomire.

P.S. I Love You: The Beatles

Posted September 21, 2023 by katry
Categories: Video

Please Read The Letter: Robert Plant, Alison Krauss

Posted September 21, 2023 by katry
Categories: Video

Signed, Sealed, Delivered I’m Yours: Stevie Wonder

Posted September 21, 2023 by katry
Categories: Video

I’m sorry about the quality of this, but it is the earliest video I could find. The others were too recent. I figure you just have to listen!!

Please Mr. Postman: The Marvelettes

Posted September 21, 2023 by katry
Categories: Uncategorized

Posted September 21, 2023 by katry
Categories: photo

“There’s so much love sent through the mail.” 

Posted September 21, 2023 by katry
Categories: Musings

Tags: , , ,

The weather is still perfect. The days are wonderfully warm and the nights cool for sleeping. The air is mostly still though every now and then a bit of a breeze moves the leaves up and down on the low branches of the pine trees. The blue sky has only a few puffy clouds. It is a day to be out and about. I do need groceries and I might as well go to the dump.

When I was in Ghana, my mother sent the best packages. I’d get the notice of her package from the post office then go on the school bus to pick it up. Sometimes the boxes were a bit crushed and torn, but the insides were generally intact. The boxes were always heavy. My mother send packages of food like Mac and cheese and pizza in a box and snacks like beef jerky and hard candy. She also sent games and origami, coloring books and crayons. There were holiday decorations. I used to go through the packages with a great deal of delight. I wanted all the goodies to last as long a possible. I reserved only Sunday for package food day.

I attempted to cook when I was in Ghana. I hadn’t cooked when I was home so it was a new venture. My friends and I tried to make bagels. That was a colossal failure, but I was great in making the boxed food from home, and on my first Christmas my sugar cookies were perfect. They were in Christmas shapes, frosted and sprinkled, all from my mother. Sunday was my special food from home day.

The packages took months to arrive. They came by ship except for one my mother paid an enormous amount of money to send airmail. It was my package of all things Christmas: a small tree, decorations, those cookie cutters and sprinkles, fireplace crepe paper, ornaments from our own tree and cardboard decorations. I loved that package.

I sent a couple of packages home. The first had Christmas presents. I sent the package from Accra, the main post office, hoping it would travel fast. It had carvings, leather bags and some traditional clothing. It arrived long after Christmas.

Every package brought a piece of home. My mother had an uncanny sense to send exactly what I needed, what I’d love.

Try To Remember: Jerry Orbach

Posted September 19, 2023 by katry
Categories: Video

Early Autumn: Ella Fitzgerald

Posted September 19, 2023 by katry
Categories: Video

When the Leaves Come Falling Down: Van Morrison

Posted September 19, 2023 by katry
Categories: Video