Kitchen Sabbatical Day 2 / Asking Questions

November 14, 2010

Sunday morning breakfast is something my husband looks forward to.  Monday through Saturday he is a Shredded Wheat/banana kind of guy but on Sunday morning he knows he can count on one of his favorite things – grits.  It doesn’t really matter what goes with them, as long as they are part of the whole.  Today it is going to be waffles and sausage, assuming I can find the waffle iron.  I do, and don’t even hesitate to start scrubbing when I realize that like all my other tools, the waffle iron will need some attention before it can be used.  And then the questions began.  Why has it been so long since I made waffles?  The dust on the iron didn’t really reflect neglect as much as what happens when it simply isn’t chosen.  Dust gathers and settles.  I look up and realize my husband has turned off the television and is putting on a Tchaikovsky cd.  We haven’t listened to music over breakfast in a really long time.  And I was reminded of Sunday mornings as a girl in southwest Virginia when my dad filled the whole house with his bluegrass music.  Breakfast back then included Lester Flat and Earl Scruggs and Jimmy Martin singing Free Born Man was practically a hymn at our house, a far cry from the Tchaikovsky I hear now.  I thought again how interesting it was to me that dad died in the same month I opened Elizabeth’s House and made another mental note to finally frame those bluegrass albums I chose as one of my fond memories of dad. 

With the sausage sizzling, the grits simmering, and the waffle batter made, I look for a dish for the real butter my friend Lisa Bowe introduced me to.   I smiled when I opened a cabinet holding old family dishes and discovered a beautiful covered butter dish that belonged to my mother-in-law.  I also found a  syrup-warmer (the kind with a long handle that you heat on the stove.)  It’s a nice feeling when you realize you have what you need right in front of you J  Finally I call the family to the breakfast table and watch and listen as my slightly grumpy 17-year-old reminds me that waffles and pancakes make her sick when eaten in the morning (a probable explanation for the lack of use in the first place.)  I invite her to pour herself a bowl of cereal and congratulate myself for not taking her comment personally, one of the things I’m committed to during my kitchen sabbatical.    

With breakfast done I think about washing the dishes.  I remember a writing my friend Linda shared that reminds us to be “present” while we’re washing dishes.  I think about the fact that I hung that writing over the sink in the “pretend” kitchen at Elizabeth’s House and make a mental note to bring a copy home with me next week.  And I also think about why I’m taking this kitchen sabbatical in the first place.  Three years ago I opened this women’s renewal center to support women in renewing and reinventing their lives and over those years have watched many women get what they need to live the lives they really want.  But recently I realized that I am bored with my own creation and have to ask myself why this wonderful space is not serving me.    

Waffles

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

½ teaspoon salt

2 eggs, separated

2 cups buttermilk

¼ cup butter, melted

Combine flour, soda, and salt; set aside.  Combine egg yolks, buttermilk, and butter; add to flour mixture, stirring briskly until blended.  Beat egg whites (at room temperature) until stiff peaks form; carefully fold into batter.  Bake in preheated oiled waffle iron.  Makes 3 (8-inch) waffles

A Kitchen Sabbatical

It’s November 13, 2010 and I’m sitting at my kitchen island.  I’m sitting here as opposed to the desk with the nice chair because there isn’t a spot to put my laptop on said desk.  When we bought this house 10 ½ years ago I envisioned doing all sorts of household “stuff” at that desk.  Now as I look at it there are piles of things that need to be dealt with.  There are Halloween decorations waiting to be taken to the basement, an array of glasses, keys, mail, Ipods, cell phones, and electronic chargers, magazines, and hats that now force me to choose another place to sit and type my thoughts.  Maybe I should stop typing and deal with my “stuff.”  That’s an idea.  However, a more compelling and hopefully more interesting one has occurred to me.  For the past couple weeks I have been saying I want to take a sabbatical.  And at first I thought I would look for a retreat center out of town somewhere, make an appointment with a spiritual director, call a life coach, my favorite counselor, buy a couple (more) books to read, or reread my tried and true Sue Monk Kidd favorites.  But today when I returned from an early morning walk I poured myself a cup of coffee and noticed how gross the warmer on the coffeemaker looked with coffee residue.  As I gave it a thorough cleaning I realized the sink could use some caulk and shared that little bit of insight with my husband (who was enjoying his own coffee over the Life of Keith Richards hardback (but I digress.)  Getting no response I moved on to the toaster oven that I determined we have had for at least 20 years.  As I’m scrubbing something burnt from the bottom tray I decide it is definitely time for a new one and share that little nugget with my husband as well.  “Is that one broken” he asked?  “No, its just time” I said.  Hmmm…  Remembering how much I love and appreciate great kitchen equipment I asked another question; “Did you ever think you would see the day when it was time to replace an appliance instead of buying a new one?”  “No” was the only reply. 

As I moved on to scraping dried gunk from the crack between my stovetop and the counter, I started thinking about some of the women I’ve coached over the years who didn’t trust themselves to make some necessary changes.  I considered my own advice to those women:  ”Find something you love to do and do it while you ponder possibilities.”  Hmmm… 

With a sparkling clean stovetop and a clear counter I decided to get my 75^th Anniversary Edition Kitchen Aid stand mixer (complete with my name inscribed on the stainless steel bowl) out in preparation for the upcoming season of cooking.  No surprise at this point that it also had a fair amount of dried gunk requiring my attention.  I got out the Bon Ami and a sponge and thought how much I have loved using it.  It makes my Christmas fudge recipe a breeze to stir.  And I started thinking that I had been dreading the holiday cooking when the truth is I absolutely love to cook, and how great it is to cook with good equipment and tools.  And as I scraped and cleaned I was also reminded of past holidays in my home and how much I appreciated cooking with my older sister Debbie in the kitchen.  Debbie doesn’t enjoy the cooking, but she doesn’t mind keeping things clean.  Cooking with Debbie means every dish, utensil, and appliance is washed, dried, and put away as soon as it hits a surface, whether you’re finished using it or not.  It’s only annoying if you like keeping a “stirring” spoon handy for something on the stove but if someone will wash my dishes, I don’t complain.  I’m guessing that Debbie doesn’t have any gunk in her kitchen.

By now I had spotted the candy canister and couldn’t help noticing the 2009 Hershey Kisses and candy canes, along with the Valentine pez refills, and a few Easter wrappers.  It felt pretty good to send all of it to the trash, wash the canister and put it on a shelf empty, awaiting new treats.  I started thinking about the treats I wanted to put into that container, which sent me to my extensive cookbook collection.  There I made quick order of the books I would keep handy for the upcoming holidays and the ones I would put behind a closed door.  I also made a mental note to take my whole Christmas with Southern Living collection of ideas to Elizabeth’s House next week to inspire the cookie swap participants.  And that’s when it became clear that what I really wanted was to take a kitchen sabbatical.  Taking my own advice, I have decided to do something I love (create in the kitchen) while I ponder possibilities, and because I live in the land of possibilities, I realize that this might take awhile.  I also decided that I’d like to share the journey, which is why instead of my trusty writing journal I grabbed the laptop from my office and brought it into the kitchen with me to record my Kitchen Sabbatical Adventure.  This is going to be interesting.

Peace,

Beth Collins

Uh Oh, I'm Mary Again

Anyone that has heard me talk about the inspiration for Elizabeth’s House over the last three years understands the title of this article.  Christian or not, the story of Mary of Nazareth and her willingness to give birth to something bigger than she could name is a compelling one - compelling because as women we get it.  We’ve heard our own “Gabriel” whispering the news of our greater potential, wondering how it could possibly be true, and saying yes to it even though we’re afraid.  Of course a favorite part of that story for me is the part where Mary, overwhelmed as she may have been with the news, went to her cousin Elizabeth, an older woman who was also dealing with her own divine blessing.  Wondering how the two women spent the three months they were together inspires all sorts of creative thought and as many know, I went so far as creating my own version of a modern-day Elizabeth’s House three years ago.  What I know for sure is that as women sometimes we’re Mary; afraid of our own potential and needing wise women to guide us, and sometimes we’re Elizabeth; still full of potential ourselves but old enough and wise enough to understand a thing or two about bringing that potential forward and into the world. 

So here I am having been an Elizabeth for years, a little older, a little wiser, holding space for all those Mary’s just waking up to what God really has in mind for their lives, and realizing it is my turn to be Mary – again.  This time it’s different though.  This time I know a lot of Elizabeth’s who will midwife new possibilities with me.  I don’t have to figure it all out by myself.  All I have to do is ask.  OK I also have to be willing to be a little vulnerable, which is what this article is about.  I’m inviting others to join me for this part of the journey in the hopes that you will see yourself in my story, and maybe even be willing to share part of yours.  My request as you follow along is that you please refrain from judgment or telling me what I need to do.  Trust that I will figure it out on my own.  I will.   I invite your thoughtful, heartfelt comments, especially if they also share a piece of your own story.  Feel free to ask me lots of thought-provoking questions and let go of whether I answer them or not.  I am confident that as we move forward there is much here for all of us.

P.S.  I wanted to call this period of rest and reflection something.  Sabbatical, retreat, time-out, and renewal period all seem appropriate but not quite accurate.   However I refer to it, I'm rethinking and renewing, anticipating and excited about the inevitable changes I can feel are ahead. J

Peace, 

Beth Collins