Loneliness and ink

Plus, the blessing of Oregon strawberries and the curse of dull knives

Check in

Now, in this moment,
Take time, feel gratitude, forgive.
Remember what matters: Spirit, authenticity, justice, words.
Let the work come. Don’t force it.
Inspiration will appear, and sooner than you think.

Loneliness

Just the one lonely shoe, found on a walk. Fran Gardner photo

You may have heard, and most of us can intuit, that loneliness is epidemic in the U.S. Figures vary, but I’ve heard 60 percent, and I can believe it.

I like being alone, but that’s not the same as being lonely. Lonely is craving human contact and not knowing how to get it. My heart aches for anyone so unfortunate. And there are tens of millions.

What can I do? What can anyone do? I resolve to visit more with people here in assisted living who don’t leave their rooms, and to make authentic attempts to connect with others—from the cashier at the supermarket to a fellow bus passenger.

I’ve even started to ask people who are staring into their cell phones what they are looking at. Surprisingly, most of them are willing and pleased to share.

Fighting our way out

How did we get into this pickle? Where are we going? What causes it? How can we fix it? Does it need to be “fixed”?

I learned from Amy Cowen’s “Creativity Matters” podcast this week that the best purpose isn’t to provide answers. It’s to ask questions.

So I’m asking. The answers are up to you.

Knives

My one experience with Vacation Rentals by Owner, now known as VRBO, was when the ex-wife of my ex-husband rented a mansion on Whidbey Island in Puget Sound and invited the mishpocha—a Yiddish term for a gaggle of relatives by blood and marriage—to spend Thanksgiving there.

The house was quite grand, which made the state of the kitchen incongruous. We were trying to cook Thanksgiving dinner and simple utensils, like a measuring cup, were not to be found.

And there were no sharp knives. Just the thin-bladed dime-store knives that were never meant to hold a sharp edge.

Americans don’t seem to understand dull knives.  Knowing this, when I was volunteering at a soup kitchen, I brought my own Mac knife—an industrial-grade Japanese cleaver. Others were limping along with the not recently sharpened knives from the church kitchen while I was slicing in style.

I was getting my Gerber knives sharpened at Hawthorne Cutlery when I saw this Japanese Mac knife in a display case. I bought it on the spot. Fran Gardner photo

Florida

When Robert and I visited his dear friends from high school in Florida, Eileen was apologetic that the only knife she had to offer me for cutting up some vegetables was a tiny, dull paring knife.

When I got back home, I looked for a source for knives in Sarasota, but Google couldn’t find any cutlery stores there, not even a place to get a knife sharpened. I’m sorry to say I gave up. I should have just sent her a good working knife.

Back in the Northwest

Portland is more blade-conscious. There are reportedly 19 knife manufacturers here, more than anywhere else in the country.

Last week, I encountered a portable knife-sharpening station at the Hillsdale Farmer’s Market. They could use this in Sarasota.

Fran Gardner photo

Accompanied by his dog, Walter, Bill Baines sharpens all sorts of edges—knives, scissors, food processor blades, pruners, loppers, lawn mower blades and axes. Don’t forget paper cutter blades.

He’s been doing it for 15 years, every day the market is open, which for now is 9 am to 1 pm every Sunday.

Sharpen up, America!

Dull knives are frustrating to use, and they are dangerous, because they slip on tough foods and can more easily cut you.

Treat yourself to worthwhile blades, ones that are sturdy enough to hold an edge.

Cutting and chopping will no longer be chores. They will be a pleasure.

Make your own ink

My daughter Lyza Danger Gardner and I share a love for fountain pens and ink. She and I both fill pens from bottled ink. I sometimes use a hypodermic needle to squirt fresh ink into used plastic cartridges.

Recently, Lyza made her own ink. She ordered some  dried oak galls from Ireland, crushed them and made a tea. Then she added ferrous sulfate. Blip! The mixture turned black. Somewhere in there she added gum arabic as a binder.

She says when she writes with it, the writing is initially gray, than deepens to black in about 30 seconds.

A gift from the wasps

Oak galls in California. Photo by J.C.Lawrence, Chico, Calif.

Galls are irregular plant growths caused when certain wasp larvae invade plants, including oak trees. Eventually, a grown wasp emerges, and the gall is left on the plant to wither.

The dried galls contain tannin, which is what makes the ink dark. It also makes the ink indelible, which is why documents like Magna Carta and medieval correspondence can still be clearly read today. This is ancient technology.

Writer’s Ink

I found a poem crouching forgotten in a notebook. It’s about ink.

I fall asleep, pen in hand
Ink dribbles down and stains my fingers.
I just bought two fingernail brushes,
One for each sink,
So I could scrub off the ink
Or the garlic,
Or the grass stains.

Now you could kiss my fingers,
Fresh flesh, with your soft lips.
I wish you would surprise me
By coming through that door.

Oregon’s best berry*

Once upon a time, I grew strawberries on the patio. Fran Gardner photo

Here in Oregon, we have unusually lovely local berries. The season can be short: here’s a chart that tells when various varieties are available. Delectable Hoods, for example, are available from mid-May through mid-June.

Hoods are soft and delicate; they don’t keep well. They make a brief appearance in supermarkets with simpatico produce managers, but last only a day or so on the shelf.

Most of the Hood strawberry crop goes to make jam in commercial facilities.

Delicious child labor

In the middle of the 20th century, Portland children were recruited to pick strawberries in June. Buses would come into neighborhoods to pick up the kids and take them to the fields.

My friend Eve Rosenfeld remembers picking strawberries in the ’30s, when she was 12 or 14. The bus took her from her Irvington home to a farm in East Multnomah County. She was paid by the flat.

By the 1960s, though, child labor laws were being invoked, and pickers had to be 16.

*Actually, the best Oregon berry is the succulent Marionberry. In a Marion County test site, Oregon State University, biologists crossed an olallieberry with a Chehalem blackberry in 1945 to produce the best berry ever. The name has nothing to do with the disgraced former mayor of Washington, D.C., Marion Berry.

Capturing true strawberry flavor

The traditional way to make strawberry jam or strawberry preserves—preserves are jam with bigger pieces of fruit—is to boil the strawberries for a long time, causing the naturally occurring pectin to thicken the jam. However, the result tastes like over-boiled fruit.

Commercial jam, and most homemade jam, is now made with added pectin. Even so, the result doesn't taste much like strawberries. But . . . I have a solution! Two, actually.

This recipe for strawberry preserves was given to me by a woman named Robbie Whitecotton back in 1975, when we worked together on a small weekly out of Beaverton called The Valley Times. (I started  at The Oregonian in 1976.)

This recipe results in whole strawberries that retain their shape and texture in a thick syrup. It is especially good on ice cream.

Grandma Hole’s Strawberry Preserves

• 2 cups sugar

• 1/4 teaspoon salt

• 2 tablespoons water

• 1 tablespoon (or more) lemon juice

• 1/4 teaspoon almond extract (the recipes says “optional” but I think it’s essential)

• 2 cups whole strawberries

Stir sugar, salt, water and lemon juice together in a 1-quart saucepan. Bring to bubbling boil (about 6 minutes), stirring constantly. Add berries. Boil just four minutes, stirring often.

Pour slowly into a shallow platter or glass pan. Skim any foam. Stir in the almond extract. Let stand uncovered at room temperature for 48 hours. Fold-stir several times.

Pour into a sturdy pan and heat to boiling. Pour into hot, sterilized jars. Seal.

Makes about 3 half-pints, but the recipe can easily be doubled or tripled.

Robbie (Hole) Whitecotton, June 1975

And another good one

This recipe, also from a Valley Times colleague, does not heat the berries at all, allowing them to retain their texture and flavor.

Canning these preserves in jars in a water bath would defeat the fresh taste by heating them. So the jam is stored in the freezer. Thawed, it tastes like fresh strawberries.

I wrote a few months ago (on February 27) about the weirdness of frozen strawberries. Well, yes, thawed berries do have an odd taste and texture, but jam is different.

Frozen strawberry jam

• 1 package powdered pectin

• 1 cup water

• 3 cups berries, crushed

• 5 cups sugar

Boil pectin and water for 1 minute. In a bowl, mix the berries and sugar and let stand 20 minutes. Mix the pectin into the berries and stir for 2 minutes. Let stand at room temperature for 24 hours.

Pack into freezer containers or jars and freeze.

Kathy Sampson, July 1975

Check out

This posting has gone long because of the recipes. Does anyone want to see more of those? Because in a lifetime of cooking, I created a lot of really good ones and want to share. Not for nothing did I spend six years in The Oregonian’s food section.

Maybe I could create a separate Substack just for recipes.

Dream on

A few weeks ago (on April 29), I posted a few sleep prescriptions, short slogans to recite as you are drifting off. I just found another one.

Your thoughts are in the wind
Your breath is the breath of the Divine
Your heart beats with the eternal pulse of the Universe.
Rest now.

Thanks and prompts

Thank you for subscribing to Becoming, either free or paid. Thank you for coming back week after week, for having my back. I appreciate you.

On that note, would you like me to send you a writing prompt? Just leave a note in the comments or email fran@ hevanet.com. Once a week I’ll come up with a very special one to send to anyone who wants it.

Maybe we can find a place to meet online to share what we write. Substack has some new tools that would help with that.

Ulterior motive

Anything to get you to put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard. I want to change your life. Actually, you will do that yourself once you start expressing with words.

Pretty soon, you’ll find you don’t want to stop, and you’ll join the geyser of expression that’s clogging the blogosphere. So many words, so what?

You’ll get to be part of a growing movement of people who are accessing their essence, expressing their authenticity, getting comfortable with who they are and figuring out why they are here.

You will be Becoming.

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