Livingthedreamwithdiana.com

Just when I think I have everything under control, I find out, usually the hard way, that, indeed, I do not.

This morning, I made my morning pot of coffee, as I do every morning, with one, very important exception; I forgot to dump the half cup of coffee left in the pot, from yesterday. Ugh!

I was going about my business this morning, trying to keep to some sort of routine, after having very little sleep last night. That is nothing unusual, however, this morning I am quite tired; down to my bones. I cannot get my head into the routine; I seem to be floating, ghost like, around the apartment. Even sitting down to type this, I am sitting on my chair, but feel like a lump of coal; zombi-ish.

I got up, opened the living room windows, and breathed deeply of the morning air; made, and drank, my (retch) apple cider vinegar with honey, and water; started a load of laundry; lit the oven to preheat it for bread baking; then, noticed the coffee, running on the countertop. (That, I should admit, to myself, at least, was a feat in itself, as the countertop is black speckled granite, if you recall.)

I mopped up the countertop, then, continued on my way. I fixed myself a cup of coffee, sat at my “office”, (the table in the living room,) got out my iPad, and started typing. Thus, what you are reading, before you, was the beginning of my day.

Fortunately, this morning was one in a thousand. I have not had such a start in quite some time. Why do you not return to bed, you ask? Simply, because, then my morning, my time of solitude, peace, reflection, is gone; utterly. I cannot retrieve it once it has passed.

Getting up, after seven thirty, or eight o’clock, is just not me. I need this time, by myself, to get my affairs in order, if you will. I can plan my day without having any distractions, (not that I would ever call my beloved a distraction!), however, if the shoe fits….

The bedding is in the washer, soon to be hung up on the clothesline in the laundry area to dry; the first loaf of bread has thirty minutes to bake; the plants are all “good morning”ed, and I am ready for a second cuppa.

That all said, please, stay happy, stay healthy, stay safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, and protect your loved ones.

I just saw this; thought it was parchment paper from the bread I just took out of the oven!)

I must tell you, that, with the higher hydration rate, and the sifting of the bran out of the Einkorn flour, I am able to make a loaf of sourdough bread that looks like this.

Personally, I prefer less perforations, as everything falls through them. However, it is the look for which most bakers strive. No longer.

I am currently making two loaves of bread that have a seventy seven percent hydration, and will let you know, tomorrow, how they turned out.

Until then, please, stay happy, stay healthy, stay safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, and protect your loved ones.

Hello, again. We were gone, but we are back now.

Today, I came out to the living room, after putting on a pot of coffee, and saw some horrific things happening in the “garden”. We have two beautiful plants that I have begun to slowly kill, by drowning them.

I did not do it intentionally, but I have done it all the same. The peace lily, and the schefflera are drooped to almost the shelves they inhabit. They look the same as when they need watering.

I repotted half a dozen plants yesterday, and gave all of them a nice, healthy watering. Not such a good idea, I am learning. Time for research.

I got online, and found that if I changed out the soil, wet for dry, it might save them. So, that is exactly what I did. I also apologized, profusely, to them both, and told them that I hoped they would be better after a bit of resuscitation.

So far, they are still trying to recover. Hopefully, I have not dealt them a death knell. We shall see.

Until then, please, stay happy, stay healthy, stay safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, and protect your loved ones.

It appears that I do my best when baking breads on Wednesday, and Friday.

I feed the starter Tuesday morning, and, evening, then again, Wednesday morning, if I am going to bake sourdough bread on Wednesday. When the starter is well into its rise, I mix the flours being used; usually one kilo of all purpose, with one hundred fifty grams of Einkorn.

Next, I add seven hundred and thirty grams of water to the flour mixture, to achieve a seventy three percent hydration. That gets mixed together, covered with a shower cap, and left to sit for one to twenty four hours. That part is called the “autolyse”, which allows the flour to start relaxing, making it easier to knead, when the time comes.

Personally, I rarely use a recipe for sourdough bread anymore. I found, then learned, how to use the baker’s percentage formula to determine how much flour, water, salt, and starter I need to use to make a loaf that weighs x amount of grams. I am not going to explain it here, but if you are interested in what it is, and how to use it, check it out.

I like a hydration rate of seventy three percent because it is wet enough to give the bread some significant holes, but stiff enough that I can knead the dough by hand, and not have to use my stand mixer. The wetter the dough, the more open the “crumb”, you have in the finished loaf.

Aesthetically, the more holes, supposedly the better the loaf. Me? I do not want any of the toppings I am using to fall through too many holes. The loaves you have seen on this site work just fine for me, and mine.

To know what is in each loaf of bread I make, even, to go as far as the sprouting, drying, and hand milling of the Einkorn grains; having made each loaf entirely by hand, gives me the greatest joy imaginable. Few have had the courage to tell me what they think of the bread, but, in my heart, I know exactly what they are tasting.

And am very proud of it.

Now, until my Japanese Milk Bread has risen enough to bake, (also kneaded by hand for the first, and, last time, EVER), stay happy, stay healthy, stay safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, and protect your loved ones.

We just heard, what I believe to be, the first crack of thunder this season.

As you may recall, thunderstorms are things of which I cannot get enough. That said, I do not seek a continuous deluge; nor am I interested in tsunami-like raging waters. I ask, only, for the occasional spring, and, or, summer downpour, complete with thunder. Lightning, I care not; yes, no, I do not care one way, or the other.

On occasion, when the weather is completely uncooperative, I listen to an app that, I believe, I have written about in a post long past; it is called RainyMood. OMG! It really does not get any better than that. I get the sounds of rain, the ferocity of which is completely under my control, as well the thunder. You can listen for hours, if you want to, say, fall asleep to the sound of rain, pattering on a rooftop.

I should remember that. When I am having trouble falling to sleep, I should put that on, and see if it helps. It, of a certainty, could not hurt.

I am patiently (not) waiting for more thunder, and possibly some rain, but until that happens, please, stay happy, stay healthy, stay safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, and protect your loved ones.

While we were in Los Altos this passed weekend, I saw, in the corner of one of the stairwells, a lonely plastic pot that contained one of my all time favorite plants. Unfortunately for me, it has been difficult for me to find. Not any more!

The botanical name of this plant is Chlorophytum comosum. The common names include the Spider plant, airplane plant, spider ivy, ribbon plant, or Bernard’s lily. And, believe it, or not, this is the first one I remember seeing since we moved here.

The plastic pot, which held the three “babies” that I was given, held six, maybe seven, plants that were viable, and able to be divided. The soil was sandy, and dry as a rock; yet they were all surviving just fine, as you can see in the first photo. Maria gave me the three you see in the photo just above. I repotted them as soon as we got home.

Seriously, I have not had an airplane plant in my home for thirty years. I am not sure why not, but there it is. It is one of those plants that brings a smile to my face every time I see it, and is one of my favorites.

I remember someone, I think it was my sister, Martha, having a beautiful, healthy, full airplane plant at some point in the past. It had the long tendrils coming off of it with the little baby plants at the end of each of the tendrils. The guy that used to cut my hair had one as well. He always said he was going to give me a shoot, but never did.

Now, I have my own. I told Maria that, when we return, next, I will bring her a cutting from a plant that I have. I think it will be a Sansevieria. She just does not have the time that I do to take care of plants.

That is so disheartening, I think; to be given something, from someone, that requires more of anything than you have to put towards it; be it time, energy, what have you. I would not give her a plant that requires being watered morning, and evening, when it is obvious she does not have the time to do that.

The primroses that I bought a few weeks ago, love a drink at night, and in the morning; both times of the day when it is cool here. The leaves of the primrose are all we have left of them, at the moment, as the flowers have all faded, and died back. The leaves are so beautiful, however, that I will continue to water it until it no longer wants to live.

I say that, because I have read that people discard them after they have bloomed; they are no longer wanted. That is ridiculous. The leaves look primeval, almost; almost like dinosaur kale.

While we wait to see what happens to the primroses, please, stay happy, stay healthy, stay safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, and protect your loved ones.

Ivan reminded me, this morning, that we needed to “cure” the terracotta pots before using them. To the computer. Research!

Little did I realize, but, they actually need to soak in room temperature water for several hours; the large pots twelve to twenty four hours, and the small mugs, etc., only four to six. I set out to do just that.

I got out our tamale steamer, which has a seventeen inch diameter, and filled it, halfway, with water, then, in went the pots. They will sit in the water until tomorrow morning, when I will remove them, and replace them with the bean pot/lid, the oval server, and the mugs. They only need to soak for a few hours. They can do that while I am making some bread.

My bean pot has to be my all time favorite cooking vessel, second only to the Instant Pot. They serve two completely different purposes, and both do their respective jobs well.

While the Instant Pot cooks things quickly, the terracotta cooks things more slowly, more gently, with a touch of love, and, soul. The terracotta also keeps things warmer, longer, when served in the vessel. Lovely.

Now, I just have to have the patience to wait for everything to cure, then I will be able to use them. Until then, please, stay happy, stay healthy, stay safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, and protect your loved ones.

It has been over a year now, that I have been using the day of quarantine as the title of each post. I am going back to actual titles. I am tired of being reminded what evil has been done to us; to the whole world.

Yes, we are still in quarantine, I am sorry to say, and, probably, will be thus far into the future. However, as long as I am able to type the words of our adventures, here, in Mexico, and abroad, I am going to only acknowledge this heinous act in my closing paragraph; that will stay constant. I do not ever want anyone to forget the encouragement it offers.

Having said that, I want to tell you about the wonderful time we had, as always, in Los Altos, this passed weekend. It is called La Semana Santa, or Holy Week. It is a part of the world that is simple, earthy, friendly, and, basic. I do not know if you can imagine it, but try, if you will.

They live lives of, as I just said, simplicity. Babies are bundled up in at least three baby blankets, and I do mean the heavy, fuzzy ones, so as not to get sick. There is electricity, to be sure, but it is used, for the most part, in recreation. If one is done with ones chores, feeding whatever livestock one is raising, or, washing ones clothes, by hand, mostly, and hanging them on the line to dry, then one might sit, for a bit, have a cup of coffee, or, watch an old, but good, movie.

Or, one might take a well deserved nap. Washing the clothes, and, dishes is done in ice cold water, this time of year anyway, so one comes away with immobile fingers. The warmth of a coffee mug is quite useful after that.

Watching Maria this passed weekend, was enlightening. She, and Jesús’ brother, Juan, were up and outside Saturday morning, feeding the sheep, and watering the pig. Yes, they have a sow, actually, who is going to give birth in the next two, or three weeks. They expect six to eight piglets. I call her Charlie. I did not realize she was a sow until this weekend, as she is never out of her pen. (Which is perfectly ok with me because she is huge.)

Life there is idyllic, to say the least, at least from the standpoint of a visitor. I am not sure, that, just yet, it would be a way of life for us. We thought about selling the condo next year, and buying a home in Los Altos, but have tabled the idea for now. We are not ready to commit to such a monastic lifestyle. Not just yet. We still have much to do, places we want to see, things to experience. Maybe some day.

Until then, my beloved family, and friends, please, stay happy, stay healthy, stay safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, and protect your loved ones.

We are on our way back to the city. Time goes on so quickly when it is amongst people who love you, and, with whom you love.

We always have such a wonderful time in Los Altos, with Jesús and Liz’ families. They understand how much we appreciate what J & L do for us, but also understand what we are able to do for them.

Jesús’s mom, Maria, feeds at least four adults, and several children, every day; taking whatever is in season, and in the pantry, and making unbelievable meals. With all of us, she needs to double that. Children are abundant, here, as well. Grandchildren, that is, as well as her sons, and daughters in law.

The boys have different portions of their parents home that they are building for their future. Juan, and his wife, have the right side of the house, while Jesús and Liz have the left side. Both sides include all three available floors. Liz’s dad is a builder, therefore, helping everyone with their building. It is exciting, watching their homes developing over each of our visits.

We stopped, on this trip home, in a city called El Carmen Tequexquitla, though, it is simply referred to as Carmen, and bought several pieces of terra cotta; five cooking vessels, and serving dishes, two salseras, and six mugs; all for thirty five dollars. I was given a terra cotta mug, without a handle, that I am using in my “office”.

Those prices are in dollars, not pesos. We could not believe how inexpensive all of the things we bought were. If they break, they will be easily replaced. Here is what we bought with our money.

While we are on our way home, please, stay happy, stay healthy, stay safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, and protect your loved ones.

I cut my hair. It feels great. Anyone that knows me, knows that there is absolutely nothing I can do with my hair. It is too …… thin, too sparse, too thin. Now, no more hair, floating around the house, the kitchen, the car, even; getting into things it should not be getting into. Yay for me.

Well, here I am, shorn to my desired length, almost. It is about a centimeter long; not quite. Longer than I will have in the future, once it “thickens up”. It has to thicken. If not, I just might shave my head, like Ivan.

We are spending this Easter weekend with Jesús, Lizbeth, Gaby, and “the family”, in Los Altos. It was amusing, the looks I received, when we got here. Not only did I not have any hair, but I actually had on makeup. This haircut really works best, for me, when I wear makeup.

Of course, no different than any of the other times we have come here, I have packed, for the most part, all the wrong clothes. As I am always so warm in the “city”, here, it is about twenty degrees colder; I do not care which system you use.

We got here about eight thirty, Holy Thursday, and had a few hours of talk, drink, coffee, etc.. When we went to bed, finally, about one thirty in the morning, neither of us could sleep! First, it is about forty degrees Fahrenheit, with no heat. (You change, from warm clothes, into freezing cold pj’s, just once, and you will see what I mean). The bed was equally cold, however, Lizbeth always makes sure we have plenty of blankets with which to cover ourselves. God love her! Second, it is so quiet, that takes some getting used to.

Here we are, though, Good Friday; relaxing after a wonderful breakfast of scrambled eggs in a red sauce; a fava bean croquette in a spicy mole sauce, if you will; black beans, and, best of all, coffee. Hot, unending coffee. Warmed the chilled bones, I am here to witness.

I must tell you, also, that it is so nice, talking with everyone, getting up in the morning, drinking a cuppa coffee, eating whatever is being served for breakfast, without being nauseous, or, having hands that shake, being thick headed, from too much tequila the lifetime before. Take it from me; do not try this at home. I have, so you do not have to.

I almost forgot; one of the ewes had a baby sheep, though, I am fairly sure a baby sheep is a lamb. Research ensues.

Research concluded: Results are thus- a female sheep, called a ewe, has a baby which is called a lamb. Goats, on the other hand, have kids. Moving on. As soon as I am able to upload a photo of her, I will. She is just as cute as can be. She will not be dinner this year.

As we wait to see what is for dinner, stay happy, stay healthy, stay safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, and protect your loved ones.