Fleur-de-Camels

I don’t think I can be accused of being a helicopter mom.

Early on the kids told me they didn’t want to “friend” me on Facebook. Good thing, since I don’t do Facebook. And my cheap-o cell phone doesn’t have an international plan for calls or texts, at least one I can afford. So I settle for Sunday Skype Sessions with the female half of the equation and Semi-Monthly Skype Sessions with the male half. Emails fill in the gaps.

No hovering for me. I’m more of what you’d call a Google Groundhog, rooting around in the garden of the Internet. I don’t poke my head out of bed without checking the State College weather report…and while I’m at it, the temps in London and Brussels. The same goes with news headlines. And yes, I take it one step further to visit the respective college websites. I like to do my homework. If I can read a notice about a Friday night pubcrawl or a UN-EU Peace-Building Seminar, I feel a little closer than the five- or six-hour time difference.

But as I was scanning the University of London SOAS (School of Oriental and African Studies) site this week, I felt like an extraterrestrial. This coming Monday and Tuesday, the school is holding a “Camel Conference”.

What exactly is that? Turns out it is a conference about camels. Speakers will explore the culture, fashion, history, business, and science of camels. Frankly, I’m so insulated in my own little world that I never considered the role of the camel in any place other than the movie screen, or perhaps the Live Nativity in Bethlehem, PA, each Christmas.

But next week’s Camel Conference will take students into realms they never thought possible. Imagine learning about marketing camel products in the desert ecologies of Pakistan or considering the impact of technology on the Egyptian camel breeder. We’ve all heard about saving the whales, but SOAS students will learn that the camel is the 8^th most-endangered large mammal on the planet, as well as dig into the architectural evidence of the camel’s role in pre-Roman Tunisia.

Representatives of the Cardiff Metropolitan University will discuss the material culture of camel ornamentation in Kuwait and an independent researcher will present a pictorial review of traditional husbandry methods…or, 16 ways to stop a camel calf from suckling his mother. Research will be outlined on the present knowledge and future prospects of camel milk for diabetes control and a Texan will offer his study of the camel saddle. If that’s not enticing enough, there will be a lunchtime guest appearance by two Bactrian (two-hump) camels for a camel photo shoot. I wish I had a helicopter…Laurie Lynch

Wild Camels: According to the Wild Camel Protection Foundation, there are fewer than 1,000 wild (Bactrian) camels remaining—in the Gobi Desert of China and Mongolia.

Uncle Sam’s Camels: Did you know that in 1855 the U.S. Congress appropriated $30,000 to import camels to open the Southwestern frontier?  More than 70 camels were shipped to Texas and used as pack animals for road and boundary surveys.  Problems arose between the military’s mules and donkeys and the newcomers, and then the Civil War broke out, thus dashing the grand camel experiment. The Texas Camel Corps keeps history alive with camel reenactments, camel treks, and other educational endeavors.

Lebanese Camel Proverb: Good advice once was worth a camel; now that it is free of charge, no one takes it.

Egyptian Camel Proverb: If you love, love the moon; if you steal, steal a camel.

Camel Quote: “On horseback you feel as if you’re moving in time to classical music; a camel seems to progress to the beat of a drum played by a drunk.” –Walter Moers, The 13 ½ Lives of Captain Bluebear

Fleur-de-CyclingUpdate

After my last blog entry contrasting cycling habits in the Netherlands with driving habits in the U.S., a friend pointed out the big difference (besides SUVs, suburban sprawl, superhighways, etc.) between the two countries—topography. Yes, biking in the flat lowlands of the Netherlands with user-friendly networks of bikeways is the ideal. But never fear; technology is here. My friend Emily reports she just did a mapping of her commute via computer with Map My Ride, which provides mileage, routes, and info on elevations and assents…HILLS!  Laurie Lynch

Switching Gears a Bit: Mention of the Netherlands unearthed a distant memory. Back in 1971, family friends invited me to spend the summer in Wageningen, an agricultural university town in the Netherlands. There were four of us American teen-age girls and we met some Dutch teen-age boys. You know the kind: tall, blond, with those wholesome, rosy cheeks. They invited us out on a date…on bicycles. We rode on a bike path along a branch of the Rhine, past grazing cows and a wind-powered flourmill. What I remember most has nothing to do with scenery or topography. My date rode next to me, with his arm gently around my back. He did all the pedaling as I glided along. Now that’s the way to travel!

End of an Era: One of the most charming weddings I attended was at a potato farm near Leaser Lake. As the bride and groom exchanged vows, the farm rooster was not to be upstaged. He let out a series of cock-a-doodle-doos that made everyone chuckle. The old farmstead will be emptied at auction this Saturday, April 20:

http://www.auctionzip.com/Listings/1761533.html

Fleur-de-FirstTasteofSpring

We had a Picasso hanging in our garage all winter long. Well, bunches of them actually.

I’m talking shallots, not Cubism.

The flavor of shallots has been likened to a mild cross between garlic and onion. Shallots are versatile companions, as they caramelize with roasted vegetables or brighten flavors in a salad or frittata. But it is the staying power of Picasso shallots that wins them a place in my kitchen garden year after year. Even after the best hard-neck garlic has shriveled into dry, yellowed cloves or sprouted green curls, Picasso shallots are as crisp and crunchy and bursting with flavor as the day they were harvested.

Picasso shallots, Allium cepa var. aggregatum, have copper-colored skin and can be planted as bulbs in Pennsylvania in fall, usually by Oct. 15, or in April. I’ve planted in both seasons, but prefer to plant shallots with garlic in October so they are on the same timetable and the bulbs have more time to bulk up. I bought my first Picasso shallots from the Maine Potato Lady catalog, and since that first harvest have saved bulbs each year for planting. (Two years ago, when I knew I was moving from Kutztown to State College, I potted a bunch up in a flat and moved them with me, transplanting them right into my mother’s garden.)

Shallots love full sun and can be planted in rows 9 inches apart, with bulbs spaced every 4 to 6 inches. Separate clusters of shallots into individual bulbs just before planting and stand them upright in a shallow trench and carefully fill soil around them, making sure the tops remain uncovered. Mulch lightly with straw to prevent heaving in winter and to reduce watering and weeding in spring and summer.

Shallots are mature when their tops fall over. In the Mid-Atlantic, this usually occurs in July, whether fall or spring planted. Cure for a few weeks in a dark, dry place with plenty of air circulation (as with garlic), and store in a cool location with good air circulation.

Picasso shallots have a name that is hard to forget, and the ease of growing, storing, and using them in the kitchen makes them a gardener’s masterpiece. Laurie Lynch

First Taste of Spring Pasta

In just a week, spring has burst into Central PA. Daffodils and forsythia are in full flower, the garlic and shallots showing their green leaves, and my chives needed a haircut! So, I came up with this meal last night—super easy, and pretty, with the bed of green spinach pasta, pink salmon nestled in, and snips of spring green chives on top.

1 6-ounce jar marinated artichoke hearts

5-6 Picasso shallots

1/3-1/2 cup freshly grated Romano cheese

Sprinkling of red pepper flakes

A few wedges of salmon filets, one per person

Lemon juice

Garlic-infused olive oil

1 lb. spinach pasta

First cutting of fresh chives, right from the herb garden

Put first four ingredients in a blender, liquefy, and chill.

Broil salmon squeezed with lemon juice in pan basted with garlic olive oil. Boil pasta until al dente, drain, toss with artichoke sauce, and place individual portions on plates. Top with broiled salmon wedge and sprinkle with fresh chives. We served this with slices of freshly baked Gemelli Bakers (State College) Fennel and Raisin bread. Manga!

In the Garden: Planted sugar snap peas along the split rail fence this weekend and sowed tomato, red pepper, eggplant, basil, and red okra (new for me) seeds inside. Lots of germination activity in the milk jug greenhouses but, alas, no action in the parsley jug…my bad luck with germinating parsley continues.

Back On the Bike: This past week I found out how out of shape I am from the long winter and dodged a few thunderstorms, but riding to and from work is still a joy. I’ve also been doing a little research. In this country, between running errands and meeting friends, the average woman drives 30 miles a day, I read in Women’s Health magazine. Why not try to have one car-free day a week?

In the Netherlands, one-third of all journeys (commutes, errands, etc.) are made by bike; for those over 65, one-fourth of all trips are made by bike.

 Ride a Bike To Work: Wakes you up. Winds you down. Saves the planet.

Fleur-de-Sing-Along

I can’t sing. I think I flunked 8^th-grade choir because the only notes I could read were the ones I passed secretly to my girlfriends. The one time I remember actually paying attention was when we learned to make the sound of a champagne cork popping with our thumbs inside our cheeks when we sang:  “When we finally kiss good night,” air kiss, thumb POP!

Those confessions out of the way, my mom and I sang our hearts out last night at a “Rodgers and Hammerstein Sing”.  Jessie Barth, a former choral music teacher at Bellefonte and State College high schools and lifelong fan of Oscar Hammerstein, led the program. Our paths didn’t cross until Friday morning when I read an article promoting the sing-along. It was like talking to an old friend and I mentioned I thought my mother would love it. It turns out Jessie knows my mom. She says she got “retail therapy” at my mother’s gourmet and gift shop The Country Sampler.

If there’s one lesson I’ve learned from my mother’s dementia, it is the lasting richness of music. The first thing my mother lost from the disease was her ability to cook. When I make one of her treasured dishes, she asks, “How did you learn to make this?” or “Where did you get the recipe?” Breaks my heart.

But music, it is her joy. Doesn’t matter if she’s dancing the waltz or the cha-cha, she floats with the music. When we’re driving in the car, her hands are tap-tap-tapping on her black leather purse to the classical music on WPSU. And, some of her favorite alone time is watching the videotapes of “The Sound of Music,” “Oklahoma,” and “South Pacific” that Richard gave her.

My mother was a drummer in the Braddock High School Marching Band in the 1940s and she still has the beat. Last night, she squeezed the stuffed chirping Baltimore oriole as birdsong accompaniment to “Oh What a Beautiful Morning” and clapped the clappers to “I Whistle a Happy Tune” with the best of them.

The sing-along was in the Reynolds Mansion in Bellefonte. Bellefonte was a one-time home to five Pennsylvania governors and the county seat and Victorian showplace of Centre County. Now a B & B, the Reynolds Mansion has the beauty of an era gone by, but the parlor got boisterous last night when 40 or so strangers filled the room with song, laughter and reminiscences.

Jessie was 9 when she became smitten with Hammerstein, American theater’s top lyricist. Oscar gave her “soul a songbook,” she’ll tell you. After retiring from teaching at 45 she began exploring human harmony by writing, singing and researching. Jessie is a co-founder of the Oscar Hammerstein Center at Highland Farm in Doylestown. In 2011 she created the CD “At Home With Oscar, A Hundred Million Miracles” as a tribute to Hammerstein, recorded at his beloved Highland Farm. She has met family members, researched his writings in the National Archives, and talked to anyone who knew Hammerstein, including the neighborhood paperboy. She does “Oscar” sing-alongs to promote human harmony and peace in the world, as Oscar did by writing of love and problem solving, she says.

Reynolds Mansion innkeeper and pianist Tricia Andriaccio and percussionist Carol Lindsay (“I’m the ‘along’ in sing-along,” Carol says) accompanied Jessie and our gang. Between songs, members of the audience read letters written about Oscar or by Oscar, and Jessie shared some of her personal stories related to Oscar. My favorite was the pride she took in meeting the man who planted the corn across from Hammerstein’s estate that inspired the line, “The corn is as high as an elephant’s eye,” in  “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin.’”

“Getting to Know You” was a crowd pleaser, and when we sang  “The Sound of Music” the line “the hills are alive…” brought tears to my eyes as I remembered the glorious feeling of climbing up hen hill at Fleur-de-Lys Farm. Two Bellefonte high school students each sang a song they’ll be singing next week in the high school’s performance of “South Pacific”.  Several men in the audience had a 20-minute practice session during intermission and came back to serenade us with “There is Nothin Like a Dame” and a group of women did the same with “How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?”

The night ended with the last song Oscar Hammerstein wrote before he died in 1960: “Edelweiss”.  All I could think of is how much Kutztown would love this show. Laurie Lynch

One Last Confession: I was named after the Laurey in “Oklahoma”.

“South Pacific” Sing-Along: Might be coming to State College in June. In the meantime, I’m going to talk to my only friend with a fan club and see what she thinks about the possibilities of Jessie coming to Berks County.

Now Showing in Hamburg: My fermenting friend Val has a quilt hanging at The Gallery of Hamburg at 335 State Street.  “I worked on this quilt off and on for about six years,” writes Val. “In those six years, I met you when I was on a quest to find more fresh local foods. The quilt reminded me of your yard.”

There are purple irises and golden sunflowers, hearts from a quilting guild friend who moved to Florida (Val embroidered flowers on them), chickens, ducks, cats, dogs, and a cardinal in a birdhouse. “Gardens need sunshine and rain. At the top, there is a paper-pieced sun. The rain is quilted around the rainbow.”

Val said she learned many sewing techniques from the quilting guild and wanted them all represented in this quilt: hand applique, machine applique, foundation paper piecing, piecing, texturing with tucks and gathers, hand embroidery, and a wee bit of machine embroidery.

Fleur-de-Lys has been featured in newspapers, magazines, television, photographs, and paintings, but never a quilt. Quite an honor. Thanks, Val.

What a Difference Two Weeks Make: Kale and cabbage seeds have germinated in the milk jug greenhouses, ONE crocus is blooming in the garden, and yes, I spotted the College Township cousin of Punxsutawney Phil. Spring resisted, but it is finally coming.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Forget Funerals, It Is Engagement Time: Yes, the cycles of life continue. My nephew Liam got engaged to Jess, and Celso, now a grad student at Kutztown University, proposed to long-time girlfriend Sarah.