lunar

leaning into the winter wind

steadied by a pair of legs

a flash through hibernating limbs

an ensnared orb captured

new title

I have changed to title of the blog to perhaps marry it with the intent of this space. The old title I Wonder no longer seemed appropriate as I have made the focus here to be more about food.

I have been thinking a little further about what I hope to accomplish here, and a title having to do with food would not be entirely fitting. Therefore I have chosen The Groaning Board to perhaps give a broader focus than simply food; although a groaning board has almost everything to do with food, and abundance, and plenty.

Simply put, a groaning board refers to how the cupboards on which the food was served in colonial times groaned under the weight of so much delicious food. It is a bountiful spread of delicious and nutricious food.

I'm not one to go around quoting bible verses, but something that comes to mind when I think of the word groaning, is a verse in Romans where the author says that when there is something in us that needs to get out, but we are unable to form the words, the spirit says them for us with groans that words cannot express. That is a lovely picture of what I hope the groaning board will do.

As I thought of this description, I immediately felt that it would be an appropriate name for the collective. It would not only be a fitting description of what I hope the restaurant will become, but leaves room for the much broader intent of the collective; which is to provide opportunities for an abundance of food, music, art, culture, discussion, understanding, and personal growth. To provide a place where people will share their lives in ways beyond simple language. To express their life passions with language that crosses many boundries.

So, here's another step towards the goal. Remember, though, I have 14 years to get this all together. Who knows what it will become. And you're not allowed to hold me to anything.

Mushroom Bisque

I didn't think that I would quickly find a soup that I liked better than carrot, but it has happened; and on p. 21, seven pages before carrot in the Moosewood cookbook. Here it is:

• 6 Tbsp butter
• 1 stalk celery
• 3 fist-sized potatoes
• 1.5 cups chopped onion
• 1.5 cups stock or water
• approx. 2 tsp. salt
• 1.5 lbs. fresh mushrooms
• 1/4 tsp. thyme
• 3 cups milk, scalded
• 1 cup heavy cream
• 2-3 Tbsp dry sherry (I used 3)
• 1-2 Tbsp. Tamari (which is a deluxe soy sauce; I used reg. soy)
• fresh black pepper
• freshly-chopped chives or scallions

Slice potatoes thinly. Chop celery and mushrooms coarsely. Begin cooking the onion in butter, adding 1 tsp. salt. When the onion becomes translucent add the potatoes and the celery. Continue to cook over fairly low heat, mixing well, so the butter coats everything. After several minutes add the mushrooms, water, and remaining salt. Cover and cook over medium heat 15 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool to room temperature.

Puree the entire mushroom mixture in a blender until absolutely smooth. Return it to a soup kattle (if possible, use a double boiler or a "waffle" heat-absorbing pad) and heat very slowly, with utmost care, as you whisk in the scalded milk, cream, sherry, and tamari. Heat only until hot enough to serve! If cooked or boiled, this soup will easily curdle and loose its texture.

Serve immediately, topped with freshly-chopped chives and freshly-grated black pepper. This soup goes well with garlic croutons.

carrot soup

45 minutes to prepare. 4-5 servings.

Bring to a boil:

• 2 lbs. carrots, peeled or scrubbed, and chopped



• 4 cups stock or water (I used stock)



• 1 &1/2 tsp. salt



• optional: 1 medium potato, chopped (for heartier soup) (I didn't use)

Cover and simmer 12-15 minutes. Let cool to room temperature.

Saute:

• 1 cup chopped onion
• 1-2 small cloves crushed garlic
• 1/3 cup chopped cashews or almonds ( I used almonds because Arianna loves almonds)in butter with a little salt, until onions are clear.

Puree everything together in a blender until smooth. Return the puree to a kettle or double-boiler and whisk in one of the following:

• 1 cup milk
• 1 cup yogurt or buttermilk plus a little honey
• 1/2 pint heavy cream
• 3/4 cup sour cream (I used this option, but next time I'm trying the buttermilk option)

Heat very slowly.

Seasoning combinations to choose from:

1. 2 pinches nutmeg, 1/2 tsp. dried mint, dash of cinnamon (I used this combination)

2. 1/2 to 1 tsp each of thyme, margoram, and basil

3. 1 tsp. fresh grated ginger root, sauted in butter plus a dash of sherry, (add just before serving)

Garnish with grated apple or toasted nuts or yogurt or sour cream. (I used sour cream because that's what was on hand).

In the beginning

Have you ever had a deep desire for something, but were never able to describe it or give it a name?

Have you ever wondered about the possibilities of doing several things as a career other than what you are doing right now?

Ever been puzzled with why it is that you are competent or even really quite good at many skills but not really outstanding at any one?

I've had all of these questions for as long as I can remember. I've often thought that at any given moment, quite outside of my planning or actions, that one special opportunity or moment or meaningful..."thing"...will appear; as if guided by God as a part of some ordained plan.

It's a bit paralyzing when people tell you, in the context of faith, that they expect that one day great things will come from you. The tendency is to wait for God to do something rather than doing something with what you already know you are skilled in. You plod along as always; never trying to reach the next level of achievement because you are waiting for "it" to happen, because others are believing it will happen. Or so they said. It ends up being more of a curse than anything else. Or at least it was for me until I grew into some self confidence. Then some form of regret sets in because of all the wasted time. More time is wasted being remorseful.

A few months ago, very dear friends of ours had us over for dinner where a wonderful soup was served as one of the courses. Carrot soup. I asked for the recipe and was told that I already had it. In fact, it was something I possessed for more than two years. It was part of a cookbook which the hostess had given me one of the first times we met.

The first thing I did when I returned home was rifle through the cookbook shelf to find my copy. Sure enough...there it was. M00sew00d C00kb00k, and on p.28 was the recipe for the most amazing soup I had ever tasted. I instantly knew that I wanted to be a part of something larger than one recipe. I wanted a community. I saw a building that was filled with people, food, music, theatre, wood, stone, warmth. What the hell was in those carrots?

The idea is a collective. A collection of people who enjoy getting together to cook and eat, and who want to engage in a community project. This project could be a collection of many things, but the core of it will be a restaurant that provides meals which are nutritionally balanced and aesthetically pleasing. And at this stage I'm thinking that it will largely be vegetarian.

The plan is to grow this project over the next 14 years or so and watch what it becomes. I do not plan on doing it alone. I will not do it alone...that would defeat the purpose. I will wait for others to be assimilated...into the BORG. Brian's Organic Rice-eating Groupies.

First on the list is simply to cook, and to do it in community with others. We've started having happy hour every Friday at 5:00 where we will have various people over for something to drink, as is custom in a happy hour. But what I plan to do is to try several new recipes each week and come up with a tested list of things which I feel will work well in "the collective". I've bought nearly all the M00sew00d cookbooks now, and there are quite a few of them. My goal is to work through most of the recipes and share them with as many people as I can. The recipes are not only nutritious, but are well thought through and delicious. You'd never really think of them as vegetarian.

Next in the plan, and this will go on as the initial part is going on, is to keep my eyes opened for a plot of land and a building. My dream is a place in town where I can move a building onto. The building will be an old community centre, schoolhouse, church, firehall, etc., from another community where it is no longer appreciated...and for a real bargain. I'll buy it for a song and move it onto a new foundation on the plot of land which I will have also bought for a similar tune.

So, I guess for a while, this will turn into somewhat of a food blog where I will share some of the great food I will be experiencing. It will also be a place for you to share with me something that you wish for me to experience; food-related or otherwise.

I never thought that I could be so easily enticed by a dangling carrot.

Next post: Carrot Soup

new focus

I'm a long ways away from early retirement.

14 years, in fact. 24 years from regular retirement.

That makes me feel good because I like what I do and I think I'll keep liking it for at least that long. But when it comes time to make those kinds of decisions, I don't want to make them in a panic.

Joyce and I have been to see the financial planners who tell us what we need to do from now until then, but it's all about money. He asked me what I did for a living and, after I told him I was a teacher, he said I guess your pretty much set then. I wasn't sure what to think about that. Was that good, was that bad? I later discovered that all he meant was that between now and my retirement, my income, aside from new contracts and Bill Gates sending me a tonne of cash for forwarding those emails, would stay pretty much the same. So we had to come up with a financial plan with what I could count on.

But, again, that's all about money. I hate it.

It's been about a year now since seeing the planner, and, well, things are pretty much the same...just like he said they'd be.

One thing has changed. I've begun to think about the time in my life when I won't be teaching. I've had visions of me standing and staring out the window just like I do with the first week of summer holidays. No plan for the day, just relax. Well before too long I'm driving Joyce crazy with the pacing and the staring. I'm sure I'll end up with a freshly sharpened #2HB pencil jabbed into the base of my neck before enjoying too much time at the window.

A couple of summers ago I realized that I had this tendancy, so I came up a plan for the entire summer long before the summer actually arrived. The plan took into account many of my passions and the things that I always wished that I had time for while school was in session. The transition was seamless. The plan actually went into effect a fews days before the summer started. Effortless motion from work to "rest".

So now, thinking about time on a much larger graphic organizer, I wish to plan, over the next 14 or so years, for a transition from work to a "whatever" and chronicling the evolution here. There is a definite direction. Like an idea with it's arms opened wide to embrace other ideas along the way. I'll do the forward motion and as you enter into my community we'll dine together on the present and the future.

The direction: A Philosophy.

Next post: In the beginning.

a change of direction

Coming soon. Keep watching.

popular opinion

"Mr. Hildebrand, we should take the Coke machines out of our school, because I heard that Coke supports the gays."

And still...we have to fight to get religious instruction out of the Public School system.

prince of tides

About a billion years ago, I was heavily involved in triathlon training. The running and the cycling always seemed to be the easiest things in the world to find time for. The swimming was always weak. I usually started to panic two weeks before the season started, and then suddenly bought a membership to the pool. I never made it there more than two or three times for the early morning group swim...and then never was able to swim more than four lengths without stopping for 5 minutes. When it came to race day, I was usually one of the last out of the water.

Like I said...that was about a billion years ago. The tides have now turned. Swimming has become almost as natural as breathing, and the running and the cycling have all but ceased.

I was asked the other week if I would be interested in filling in a vacant spot in the swimming portion of a triathlon relay. This is a triathlon I had done all on my own oh so very long ago. But now all I had to do was swim...sounds too good to be true. "I'll do it. I'd love to."

I couldn't believe how anxious I became after I said yes. I was glad that it was really short notice, because I couldn't sleep, and I was driving my wife crazy. The night before was crazy...tossing, turning...more turning.

I was worried about lake swimming. All my training had been done in a pool. Very simple format...back and forth in an easy to negotiate lane, perhaps with one other person sharing the space.

The lake is unfamiliar. The lake is cold. I would be wearing an untested wetsuit, and there were about a hundred others attacking the space at the same time. The waiver I signed mentioned something about possible dangers in the swim portion: kicking, pushing, punching, scratching, drowning... How nice.

The race is now behind me and the t-shirt and finisher's medal are in hand. My time was only about 2 minutes slower than it would have been in a pool, so I am actually quite pleased.

There is something that tends to happen to a fella, though, at an event such as this. It's called inspiration. I have a feeling that the tides could be turning once again.

quit measuring already

Some people choose to fritter their time away with Facebook, and others, like me and a few million others worldwide, have chosen to waste countless nighttime hours roleplaying on World of Warcraft. Mine is the make-believe life of Sammus, named after my youngest boy Sammy. Sammus is outfitted here with his Acrobatic Staff of Frozen Wrath, capable of inflicting serious damage...for a fancy stick anyway.

In the real world, this is Sammy on a sunny July Wednesday afternoon out on a fishing trip with the family, including grandma and grandpa. He is equipped here with the Zebco Staff of Water Wasteland, capable of inflicting SERIOUS damage to unsuspecting weedmonsters within 20 metres.

measure twice, cut once

around the world in 4900 days

One of my oldest nephews is near the end of his six week trip around Europe. A few days ago he was in Barcelona and was planning on staying there for a few days before taking a boat to somewhere in Italy. I remember well being 20ish and doing something quite similar, but I never did make it to Barcelona. It's now a destination on my life goals list.

I thought I'd do a little advance planning for the trip so I entered the "from" and "to" into Google maps. It seemed as though it was going to be a fairly straight forward trip, until I read #24 of the instructions on the left.

I currently swim about 9km per week. If I start now, I should be stepping out of the water on the shores of Spain just in time for my 53rd birthday.

manitoba spring

Now that most of the larger piles of snow are but flat areas of ice, Manitoban's are out and about and doing the springtime jig.


Yesterday, my children spent the evening combing through the yard and picking up all of the winter garbage and whatever else they could find that was left over from a large town ice rink directly behind our house. A large garbage bag full of tins and candy wrappers, and 16 (and counting) hockey pucks.



The sun was out in full force yesterday and finally did some of the necessary thawing. It's such a wonderfull sight to see the town coming to life. People are starting to show themselves on walks. They may have been walking all winter long, but the sun never stayed in the sky long enough for us to see them. Now it's light well past 8:00pm.




Sammy thought that it would be a good time to go out and catch butterflies. He spent much of the day swooping the net through the air in hopes of catching one. I told him that it may be a little early for butterflies. The look on his face is telling enough what he thought of that
idea.








This is the year that we get a puppy...maybe two. We finally found a local breeder of mini australian shepherds. We've been put on the waiting list for the next litter late this summer or early fall. That will give us time to get the house and yard ready for a dog.
I'm hoping for a male black or red tri, and the girls are hoping for a female blue merle. I'm sure we'd quickly fall in love with whatever we get.

Are there any butterflies where you are?

crazy jane

Happy 11th birthday Jane-Jane.

shades of red

Happy Birthday Micah Brian Superhero!

spring project

A number of months ago I started a home renovation project. It was one of those that kind of got bigger and bigger as time went along.

Can I have a show of hands for those that have seen a project that didn't become much more than intended. I didn't think so.



Joyce and I moved out of our bedroom on the main floor. I gutted the entire thing right down to the studs. The room had very poor wiring so I redid all of it before putting in all new drywall, flooring, mouldings and paint.

The room took on a new purpose. Joyce needed a sewing room and I needed a desk, so I had to make one that fit my needs and the space where the closet used to be.






I remembered some of Cream's great tile work from over a year ago and wanted to try my hand at breaking my own share, so I used my router to gouge out a groove in the desk top and used all the broken tile bits to create a bit of an inlay.






That didn't seem to be quite enough, so I did a bit of a cartoonish painting of a classroom with me in the middle of a lesson. If you look out the window you will see a man sitting in the park on a bench playing guitar...which is what I would rather be doing in the springtime.




Half of the desk will be used for the computer and the other for whatever else it is that teachers

do.



Oh, and if you're wondering where we're sleeping these days, we didn't think that the kids would mind if we slept on the floor of their bedrooms for a while. Joyce's blogging privacy is more important afterall. A woman's got to have space to be creative.

coffee nation

Have you ever wished that you'd have come up with an idea first? When you see one, you sometimes want to smack your forehead with an open fist and say, "Now what was keeping ME from thinking of that?"

Talk around the staffroom table led to one person saying that every time we have trouble with something, it should be an opportunity for a new product. My synical mind immediately pictured ejector seats for student desks. Neh...that would never work. There's a ceiling in the way. What we need to think about is something truly unique...something truly Canadian.

Now why didn't I think of that? But that's not going to stop me from wishing others well during their times of success, Oh no. I'm going to do everything in my power to support the entrepreneurship of good Canadians.

Therefore, the first 20 people who email me with their complete mailing address and the words, "Brian, you make me so hot, but not in a sweaty kind of way" will receive one shiney new rimroller in the mail. Keep in mind that I'm a grade school teacher. I'll be checking for spelling.

Aaaaand, GO!

stacks

Do you ever think that people care about what you read; so much so that you want to post a picture of your bedside table and the stack of books you are pretending to read to make yourself look good?

I often get really excited about the books I'm reading or planning to read. Occassionally I will gather them together to gain some perspective of where I am going with all of this. Sometimes I find that it is time to buy some new ones. Other times I need to either quit buying and read what I've already got, or head in a new direction.

This time, what I have on the go is exciting for me. There is one that I want to reread, but the others have all been recommended to me by friends. I'm mostly through Miriam Toews' A Complicated Kindness. So far it is fantastic. I'm waiting to get to the part where she gives a mention of my late brother-in-law. They used to be sweethearts. Aparently, she would drive out to the farm and she and Ken would spend the day driving around on the field in the tractor doing...uhmmm...farm stuff. It makes me feel like I kind of know her.

The others are not light reads, so I don't imagine to get through them quickly. I'm the kind of reader that needs to take heaviness slowly...in palatable chunks...with some robust Cabernet Sauvignon, perhaps.

What's in your stack? I'd actually really like to know. Perhaps I'll add some of yours to mine.

preaching to the children's choir

I'm unapologetic about singing theme songs out loud in my classroom. However, it may be a little less embarrassing if I would sing something other than themes from preschool children's programming; but what's a simple guy supposed to do...

My grade 5 and 6 students cower in their desks every time I announce my entrance into the classroom by singing Mail Song from Blue's Clues

Here's the mail
It never fails
It makes me wanna wag my tail
When it comes I wanna wail...MAIL!!!

I have only one preschool child left at home. Sammy. His favourite show is George Shrinks. We LOVE singing the theme song to that one. I'm usually the one who starts it, and he is quick to join in. I'm sure that everyone else in the house is completely tired of hearing it, but I JUST CAN'T HELP IT.

Kids these days have a lot to be thankful for in their T.V. programming. Gone are the days when a kid's life was all about obedience and conformity. These days, they can be whatever they want to be. All it takes is "want to" because they already have what it takes.

Kids all around T.V. land chant these words each and every day:

Blue's Clues
Now it's time for so long
But we'll sing just one more song
Thanks for doing your part
You sure are smart!
You know, with me and you
And our friend Blue
We can do anything that we wanna do!

Blue's Clues
You know what to do!
Sit down in our Thinking Chair and think...think...think!
Cause when we use our mind, take a step at a time
We can do anything...that we wanna do!

We Figured It Out
We sat on down
Figured it out
What Blue's Clues are all about
Hey, you know what?
You're really smart!

George Shrinks
Well, the boy is kinda small
But it doesn't show at all
Cuz he's always acting tall
George Shrinks, George Shrinks
He's called

If a problem should be found
He's the boy to have around
Something big or something small
George Shrinks, George Shrinks
He's called
George always seems to find a way
To make his dreams come true each day

Rolie, Polie, Olie
He's short and smart and round

Tractor Tom
We couldn't do it without you.

Arthur
Everyday when you're walking down the street, everybody that you meet
Has an original point of view...
Get together and make things better
By working together!
It's a simple message and it comes from the heart
Believe in youself (echo: believe in yourself)
Well thats the place to start (to start)

Bob the Builder
Bob the Builder!
Can we fix it?
Bob the Builder!
Yes we can!

There is only one problem with all of this positive self-speak. Sometimes kids who really have no clue at all about something, think that they really do. If you don't believe me, there's nothing like an evening watching American Idol auditions to set you straight.

Thank goodness for Little Bear though and the programme's keeping up with the times. Cat and Little Bear are a lot nicer than Simon, but could perhaps be a little more honest.

O'Brian the Mennonite

I have the rare privelege of knowing two men named Roderick. That's actually their formal name. Most of the time, people will know a Rod or a Rodney, but rarely a Roderick. And rarer still, two.

Every other Thursday, one of the Rodericks and I get together and have a guitar night. We meet at his house, close the door to his office, set out our guitars and the chips, and he pours the Scotch. That's our little arrangement. I provide the musical guidance and he provides the drink. He says that the better he gets at playing guitar, the better the scotch gets. I suggested that perhaps we should meet more often...you know...to speed things up a bit.

This Thursday I was running a little late after work and was looking forward to getting home and just putting my feet up. When I arrived home Joyce told me that Rod called and wanted me to call him back as soon as I got in. Something about going to the city to listen to some Irish music. I returned the call and he said he'd be over in 15 minutes to pick me up.

We drove to a part of the city I rarely see and were able to park nearly directly in front of the club's entrance. It was a small side entrance which immediately turned into stairs going up to the left. The room was large and homey. Two things immediately stuck out; the stage straight ahead by the fireplace, and the bar at the far right. The bar had a few of those decorative beer levers for pouring pints of Guinness and Smithwicks. I learned just a few days prior that Smithwicks is actually pronounced Smithicks. No w. I proudly answered the what'll ya have with Smithicks, please. At least I hope I remembered to say please. I was concentrating pretty hard on getting the beer correct. I didn't want to stand out too much.

We found a table near the front of the room where we'd be able to see the stage properly. Rod thought that the concert started at 7:00. We were just in time.

Looking around the room at some of the others seated, and still others arriving, gave me smile. Green hats, shirts, suspenders, and sashes. Guinness pride was everywhere, and well in hand. Everyone seemed to have their Friday faces on. I had on black jeans, black t-shirt and a Protestant orange vest over the shirt. I became quite conscious of the vest the more Rod spoke. He mentioned the lyrics to an old Irish tune he had learned as a lad where people were defined by the orange and the green. A glance around the room quickly reinforced the distinction between the two faiths. A map on the wall, lovingly made from metal by a member who teaches metal shops, clearly defined the poeple area groups. The people in the room were wearing their faith on their green sleeves. It felt a little like Christmas. I was beginning to feel a little out of place, despite my proper pronunciations. Rod said that if I got into a fight, he would be in my corner, which was way over there somewhere. Rather than leaving to avoid persecution, I removed the vest. I was all black...like Johnny Cash.

The evening was billed Traditional Night. The club memebers all knew what that meant. Irish fiddle tunes, chants, stories, yarns, and poems. They seemed to keep the star performers for the later evening. The Irish dancers, fully adorned in dress and curls, took the stage and shook the second level floor. I was thinking Riverdance while everyone else was thinking Traditional Night.

Remembering it was only Thursday, and the pints being empty anyways, we decided it was time to leave to ensure a proper bedtime. If we timed it correctly, we'd be home by 11:00. The highways out of the city were quiet and as we drove I wondered about the evening and thought about Rod and where he's from. Rod's an islander. A Newly Found Land by some wild well-armed seamen with circular shields in the year 1000. They didn't didn't stay long, however, as they didn't get along with the others who had already found it thousands of years prior to their finding it.

I mentioned to Rod that it must be nice to know where he's from. I said that it was a little confusing for me because I don't seem to have a homeland. I have a definite culture, but we're a little displaced. The Mennonites have been all over the place. Holland, Germany, Austria, Russia, and now the U.S. and Canada. It's hard to know what land I'm connected to. It's hard to know the answer to the question, where are you from? I'm from wherever we weren't persecuted for wearing our faith on our sleeves. We find someone else's land for a while until the one's who found it first begin to protest. Then, rather than taking off our orange for a while to avoid conflict, we leave.

I know gambling is against my colours, but I'm willing to bet that we've perhaps missed out on some fine Traditional Nights because we were too quick to leave.

Thanks for sharing, Roderick.