Bittersweettoast

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Sugar and Spice

You know the story. A mom teaches her daughter how to roast a ham and cuts off one end before placing the meat in a pan. The daughter asks why it's necessary to cut off the end, and mom explains that this is how grandma always did it. An inquiry into grandma's method reveals that grandma always snipped the end 'cause her pan wasn't big enough! Not exactly a tradition worth passing along after all. Sometimes patterns need re-assessing. Just a few blog posts ago, I described the zen-like state I acquire when creaming butter and sugar to create certain sweet masterpieces like chocolate chip cookies. I've been baking since high school and basically drool at the prospect of tasting the warm gooey mess of a freshly baked cookie. Enter a very strange illness a few weeks back that had my doctor and two of her colleagues stumped. Two different rashes and nausea had me thinking for a moment that I might get to be the subject of the New York Time's Sunday magazine sect

Getting To the Root of the Matter

Curcuma longa is the botanical name for a plant whose rhizome harnesses incredible healing power. We know it as turmeric, the bright orange spice that is produced from the plant's root, and it has been used for over 4,500 years as an important part of Ayurveda, one of the world's oldest forms of medicine. Like snow to the native people of Alaska, turmeric has over a hundred different terms in the Ayurvedic world. Jayanti , one victorious over diseases, relates to the lengthy list of health maladies this powerful spice has been used to fight: inflammation, cholesterol, heart disease, rheumatoid arthritis, digestion, gallstones, cuts and burns, colds and sore throats, and (my favorite) leech bites. Matrimanika , beautiful as moonlight, is another name for the versatile spice and refers to its historical use in Indian wedding ceremonies where the bride and groom rub a paste with turmeric all over their bodies, providing them each with a special glow and promise of matrimonial pr

Reinventing The Wheel

When I led bike tours, one aspect of this multi-faceted job was to give route descriptions each morning before setting out on the day's ride. Generally speaking this was pretty straight forward because even if it was a new trip we had never been on before, the company always supplied leaders with plenty of information about each route. But one particular trip presented very unusual circumstances --Yellowstone National Park during the summer of the big fires. Our first trip there had gone without a hitch as the fires circled the periphery of the park's most popular destinations. But by the time we started our second trip, roads were closing everywhere throughout the park, forcing us to adjust our routes to roads we had never seen. Co-leaders always took turns doing the daily route talk, and on our first day through this uncharted territory, I listened while one of the other leaders gave the day's talk. Instead of saying to all our guests that we had absolutely no idea wh

State of Mind, State of Body

Many years ago I competed in triathlons, and one race always sticks out in my mind. Actually, it's one moment from one race. I was on the bike leg, which for me was always my strongest. As I was riding along and happily gaining ground on all the folks who were stronger swimmers, another woman came up alongside and said, "Hey, nice bike." We chatted for half a minute about the finer points of Cannondale bikes, and then she sped off. When I looked down at her calf muscle and saw the permanent pen markings that indicated her age, I read five zero, fifteen years my senior! Humbled? Yes. Impressed? Very much so. I have long been drawn to older, fit folks. If you've been a longtime reader of my blog, you might remember when I wrote about George Garside and the Auckland Cycle Touring Association . This was a group of incredibly fit 60, 70, and 80 year old men I was privileged to ride with once, and the experience definitely left its mark. These men took their fitness serio

'Tis the gift to be simple

I am not sure what it is about the Sunday New York Times. Perhaps it's just the leisurely tone that tends to describe the last day of the week. Perhaps it's because the Sunday edition gives my mind and eyes a rest from the often depressing daily news. Whatever the reason, Sunday's paper often gives me inspiration. Anne Patchett is my muse today. She has long been a favorite author, so when I saw her name below an editorial titled, "My Year of No Shopping", I delved in. This topic has been on my mind a lot this holiday season because of my kids. When I asked them a month ago about Christmas ideas, their lists were scant. I didn't think much about it until decorating our tree last weekend and realized how little would go under its limbs this year. I'm okay with this. I am happy that many younger generations seem genuinely interested in our planet's health and welfare and our need to stop over-indulging. Anne Patchett's essay is a reminder that us o

Teaching Old Dogs New Tricks

During my second year of teaching I had a parent who prefaced every conversation by saying, "Well, you know, I AM a psychologist..." Code speak for, "You are a young, lowly teacher who knows nothing, so let me enlighten you." I WAS young and new at the profession, not wise to the realities of parenting, but I wasn't stupid. Midway through October, I did what most every teacher I know does when group dynamics call for a disruption -- I changed the seating order in my classroom. Now, had I been a psychologist, I would have known that this was a dangerous thing to do to kids. My psychologist parent helped me see the light. "I AM a psychologist," the conversation once again began, "and humans are creatures of habit. In a large lecture hall, students will naturally gravitate to the same seat, day after day. Your students are being harmed by this new seating arrangement." Now back in the day I had to go up to the school office to take phone calls b