by Sara Barry | Nov 19, 2014 | abundance, it takes a village, traditions, what I love
Sometimes community is rooted in place, feeling part of where you are.
It’s the librarians knowing my name and running into friends while we’re checking out books. It’s the cashier at the market asking my little one where her big sister is. It’s my three-year-old having a “usual” at the coffee place.
It’s saying hi to all the other people out walking their dogs or their kids. It’s a quick walk around the block taking twice a long as you intended because you ran into one person and then another and then another.
It’s the shared work of clearing snow and helping those who can’t. It’s meal trains when a baby is born and the neighbor who takes your trash or lets your dog out or ties up your tomatoes when you can’t.
It’s watching a high school senior go off to the prom or a kindergartener get on the bus for the first time—even when neither one is your child.
It’s working together on the playground at the end of the street or the garden/greenhouse at the school. It’s leaving toys in the sandbox for others to play with (and finding them there when you go back) and picking up trash whether it’s yours or not.
It’s traditions like first day of school muffins and our neighborhood egg hunt and the Halloween gathering across the street.
All this is my community, the one grounded in place and people who take care of each other and what they share.
What does community mean to you?
Tell me about your community—one built around people and place or one built around shared experience.
What’s one thing you can do to build or strengthen your community today?
by Sara Barry | Oct 29, 2014 | fall, garden, what I love
The other day I was out in the garden in a misty almost sprinkle.
I had to drag my self off the couch, away from the computer, out into the gray. I didn’t want to go out, but I knew the garlic needed to be planted.
For years, I’ve said I should grow garlic but come October or November, I’m not programmed to plant. I’m programmed to harvest and preserve. I’m pushing myself to get the garden cleaned up before it gets too cold. I’m ready to nestle inside with something in the oven to warm the house and meet my need for comfort food.
But this past weekend, I pushed myself out into the mess of weeds and the fallen leaves choking the bed where I planted late lettuce.
I looked at the carrots ready to be pulled and the potatoes ready to be dug. I noticed the three green pumpkins on wilted vines, dry grass, and wilted weeds, and the cosmos and zinnias that had finally succumbed to the cold.
“Garlic,” I reminded myself, and I started to dig.
I loosened the soil and dug weeds just where I needed to. I rolled the creaky old wheelbarrow over to the open face of the compost pile and pushed aside the mulched leaves my husband has started to pile there.
I added the compost to my beds, pressed the paper sheathed garlic into the soft, cold ground. I didn’t worry about watering. The weather would do it for me.
I worked until my glasses started getting to spotted, and I found myself smiling and relaxed and invigorated. Instead of a chore, I was doing what I loved. I was outside, moving my body, gettin my hands dirty. I starting something new during a time of wrap up, getting ready for winter and getting ready for spring.
I should get out there today. It’s not even raining.
Write with Me Wednesday
Write
What makes smile, even unexpectedly? Write about something you love doing even though it’s uncomfortable or messy or hard or mundane. You might start with
What do you love doing once you get yourself get started?
by Sara Barry | Oct 10, 2014 | abundance, baking, what I love
I was overwhelmed by the many decisions I had to make for my wedding, but I knew I wanted a chocolate cake. And I got it—not just chocolate, but triple chocolate ganache.
It was good—and gorgeous, dark chocolate brown with orange and yellow nasturtiums spilling over it.
For our first anniversary, I made a triple chocolate cake and decorated it with nasturtiums from the garden. The filling in this cake is lighter and more buttery than my wedding cake, but it’s still delightfully decadent.
The cake with no filling or glaze makes a rich dessert. Serve it with raspberries and a little vanilla ice cream or barely sweetened whipped cream. I often serve it this way.
Triple Chocolate Cake
The recipe looks long, but all three parts are really easy to make.
Cake
Amounts are per cake. Double for two layers. I usually mix them up separately because one fits nicely in my double boiler.
4 oz bittersweet chocolate, chopped fine
1 stick butter
3/4 cup sugar
3 large eggs
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
- Preheat oven to 375 F and grease an 8- or 9-inch round cake pan or springform pan. Line bottom with a round of parchment paper. (The cake has a tendency to stick, so don’t skip the parchment paper.)
- In a double boiler, melt chocolate with butter over barely boiling water, stirring until smooth.
- Remove top of double boiler from heat and whisk sugar into the chocolate mixture.
- Add eggs and whisk well.
- Sift 1/2 cup cocoa powder over chocolate mixture and whisk until just combined.
- Pour batter into pan and bake in middle of oven for 25 minutes, or until top has formed a thin crust.
- Cool cake in pan on a rack for 5 minutes and invert onto a serving plate.
Filling
Allow time to chill. You can make this a day ahead and store in the fridge—or cook chocolate mixture and let chill overnight.
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup cornstarch
4 Tbsp. cocoa powder
1 1/4 cup milk
1 cup butter softened
1/4 cup powdered sugar
- In a medium sauce pan, combine sugar, cornstarch, and cocoa powder. Blend well. Gradually stir in milk.
- Cook over medium heat until mixture thickens and boils, stirring constantly. Remove from heat. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for about an hour or until cool.
- In a large bowl, beat butter and powdered sugar until well blended. Gradually add cooled chocolate mixture. Beat until light and fluffy.
Glaze
3/4 c. whipping cream
8 oz bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
- Place the chopped chocolate in a large mixing bowl and set aside.
- Pour cream into a small, heavy saucepan. set over medium heat and stir until it comes to a boil.
- Remove the pan from the heat and pour the hot cream over the chopped chocolate. Stir until the chocolate is melted.
- Let stand at room temperature for 10 minutes before pouring over cake.
Assembly
- Place one cake on a serving plate. Spread a thick layer of filling on top of layer.
- Cover with raspberries (optional, but the raspberries help offset all the chocolate).
- Layer the second cake over the first.
- Pour glaze over cake and smooth with a flat spatula. Use extra frosting to decorate top and sides of cake if you like. Garnish with edible flowers like nasturtiums (optional)
by Sara Barry | Oct 8, 2014 | milestones, what I love, writing
Supposedly rain on your wedding day is good luck.
We laughed and shrugged and gave up the idea of pictures in our garden. The jewel yellow and orange nasturtiums that spilled over the cake shone bright on that dim day. We weren’t worried about luck. We had love.
I questioned the idea of luck on our second anniversary when we sat in a crowded Thai restaurant within walking distance from the hospital where our son had been in the ICU for three weeks.
I questioned it on our third anniversary when grief continued to swirl between the two of us, locking our tongues, tripping up our words. As I sipped my water, I understood we were lucky to have gotten pregnant again, quickly and easily, but I had no confidence or trust.
Today as I contemplate the rain falling and remember how hard it came down nine years ago, how people were late because there was so much water on the roads and visibility was so limited, I don’t believe in luck.
But I hold the fullness that we have packed into these nine years
Three children born, one buried.
Months of hospital life and living hours apart.
Family illness, more funerals.
Buying a canoe; struggling to learn to paddle together.
Long afternoons of shushing and swaddling.
Years of not sleeping.
Stories read, made up, remembered, retold.
Chilis bubbling on the stove, chicken pot pies browning up in the oven. Finding our rhythm again in the kitchen.
First tastes of ice cream and family outings in that green canoe.
Dancing—crazy made up swing at our wedding and dancing later with our girls on dark winter evenings in the living room.
Today the storm has passed; the sun is shining, the sky a deep blue. We’ve walked nine years together, sunshine and storm. Nine years, and despite all the statistics thrown at us in the hospital, we’re still dancing, still cooking, still writing our story together. Nine full years, not luck, but life.
Write and Share
Share your own story of good times and bad. Does one overpower? Or do both parts hold their own?
by Sara Barry | Sep 15, 2014 | fall, what I love, writing
Right now, this week as we settle into September, I’m loving . . .
- being alone in the house with quiet to work
- packing away the sprawl of summer, sending bathing suits and towels and flip flops up to the attic
- running again filled with the energy of fall
- kale—it’s been waiting for me all summer, and now that fall is here, I have it almost every night, sauteed with a little olive oil and garlic.
- letting go of the weeds, knowing I’ll clear the slate for a fresh start next spring
- the enthusiasm bubbling out of my kids when I pick them up from school or get them off the bus
- the notes I find all over as my big girl pieces letters together, hoping to make a word
- re-engaging with a writing project I was stuck on (I ‘m still not sure where I need to go next, but I’m writing again, trying to write my way out of my sticking point)
- these notebooks and prints, especially these four pleasures—write, read, walk, dig
- re-engaging with a writing project I was stuck on (I ‘m still not sure where I need to go next, but I’m writing again, trying to write my way out of my sticking point)
- making these love lists and getting ready for Write What You Love tomorrow (you can still join us).
What are you loving this Monday morning?
by Sara Barry | Sep 8, 2014 | baking, parenting, what I love, writing
Right now I’m loving this cool, dry air after a few sticky, icky days and the return of energy that comes with this cool weather.
I’m loving the urge to bake and the cinnamon-coconut-almond smell wafting out of my oven with this morning’s batch of granola. I’m loving the crisp gingersnaps I baked yesterday—and the homemade ice cream sandwiches I made with them and peach ice cream.
I’m still loving my early morning time, both the quiet and focus itself, and the calm i
t brings to the start of my day—even when one little one wakes up with wet undies and the other rages that she is too tired to get out of bed. I handle this so much better after a few minutes to myself, a chance to pee and brush my teeth, a cup of coffee.
I’m loving my new writing notebook—and the hour I spent yesterday with my art-loving girl doing collage. I’m loving the memory of making a collage notebook with my friend Kate years ago that cascaded into a string of other memories of lazy-productive weekends spent marbling boxes and constructing jewelry holders, taking a glass fusing glass, baking dozens of cookies on a snowbound afternoon, stirring jam on a steamy summer afternoon in my old apartment.
Writing prompt for Monday
Think about a person you’ve known for a long time. List memories you have of being with that person. What places does that take you to? what stages of your life? Who are you with this person? Has that changed over time or does being with them bring out a certain part of you?
What are you loving right now?
Write What You Love starts next week! You can sign up here—it’s free.
Sometimes community is rooted in place, feeling part of where you are.
