Look It Up

Remember this book? I used to say that if I were being sent into exile and could take just one book, this would be the one.

You probably own a similar one. This dictionary was a 1991 replacement for the old one that fell apart. As evidenced by its shabby condition the new one had hard use for more than fifteen years. Then came the Internet and easy access to on-line dictionaries. Webster's sat on the shelf, gathering dust.

A couple of nights ago, eating dinner alone, I was thinking about the word "pedagogy" and wondering what it means precisely and how it relates to similar words such as "pedant." Our dining room is also our main library. I sat facing the bookcase that holds reference books and there was my old Webster's. I could have gotten up to retrieve my iPad, but instead reached for the dictionary.

Ah, the familiar heft, the thin, strong paper, the thumb notches. In a rush I felt again the old thrill of running my eye down the page looking for the word, being distracted by other words along the way, pausing to read their definitions. The noun "pebble," for example: "a small usu. rounded stone esp. when worn by the action of water."

I moved on to "ped-" where I was reminded that prefix means "child," from Greek. And there, running down the page in succession was the panoply of words having the "ped-" prefix. I went on to pedagogy, "the art, science, or profession of teaching," and to pedant, "one who parades his learning." Even pediatrician.

Similar, but different is the Latin "ped-," which means foot, giving us pedestrian and pedometer, but that's another story.

Just as I was ready to close the book another word caught my eye: pederast. The evening news had another story about the Penn State scandal and we were reminded again of the monstrous Jerry Sandusky. Here was the precise word to describe him. Pederast: "one that practices anal intercourse esp. with a boy."

What a rich experience this was compared to finding the definition of pedagogy on line. No more will I neglect this battered old book that has expanded my vocabulary and entertained me through the years.

If, like me, you are a logophile, I hope you will dust off your dictionary and experience again the riches it contains.

The Old Dog Learns A New Trick

Lately everyone is talking about kale salad. My niece Holden, who is always on the cutting edge of food trends, has been making it for months. Her dad talks about how good it is. My friend Kathy has been making kale salad that includes edamame and garbanzo beans. I did a web search and found dozens of recipes.

There's every good reason to eat kale. It is rich in calcium (important for someone who has sworn off calcium supplements) and antioxidants. It can lower cholesterol and contains more vitamins than you can shake a stick at. Some of kale's nutrients are lost in the cooking process, so I decided to give kale salad a try.

I'm slow to adopt new recipes, preferring to stick with the tried and true. Most of the recipes for kale salad had too many ingredients for my taste. Being a lover of simple food, I wanted to try raw kale without a lot of other ingredients. I decided to make my favorite cole slaw using kale instead of cabbage. Why not? Both vegetables are members of the brassica family, along with broccoli and Brussels sprouts. Kale just happens to be the most nutritious of the lot.

First I removed the central stems of a bunch of kale. After stacking up the leaves I shredded them into fine strips, about 3/8 wide, as I would cabbage. Then I chopped the strips into even smaller pieces.

My usual cole slaw dressing is easy to make. This time I made it with fresh lemon juice instead of cider vinegar as a nod to many of the recipes I found on line. Tossed with the chopped kale it lends shine and variations to the beautiful green composition. (See my post "This One's For Grant-O," June 20, 2011 for a description of the dressing.)

Served with cold baked beans and a sliced tomato the kale slaw was delicious. Dennis said he prefers it to cooked kale. Kale lacks the crispness of cabbage but the taste is just as good.

It was just another simple supper, but upgraded. For me, cole slaw has been redefined. It's a new trick I look forward to performing again, but next time I may give the slaw a little crunch by adding toasted nuts or croutons. 

Finished

Last week seemed focused on finishing up. Much if not all of the local corn crop was finished. The intense heat and lack of rain ruined the plants before they could form ears.

Today this farmer is salvaging what he can, chopping the corn stalks for ensilage to feed his cattle next winter. The value of the ensilage is a pittance compared to the corn crop he could have harvested in a good year.

Also finished were the green beans in our garden. The beans were just beginning to bloom when the heat wave hit. They're goners now.

The heat wave, having done its damage, is finished, too. Two days ago the temperature was 106º when a strong wind rolled in, dropping the temperature 14º in fifteen minutes. Today 85º feels downright cool.

Finally, a good thing was finished: I completed the Corn Maiden mask that's been waiting for its corn silk for over a year.

Considering the failed corn crop, I probably should have made some tears rolling down her cheeks.

On A Hot Summer Day

It's 104º and this young red tailed hawk, who has been hanging around for a couple of days, decided to sit on the edge of the bird bath and dangle his feet in the water. (Photographed from the living room through a water-spotted window.)

Inside the artificially cooled house I was thinking about something light and cooling for supper. By nature, I think first of dessert – in this case, panna cotta to be served with blueberries. This is a very easy, delicious summer dessert.

Panna Cotta

1 1/2 teaspoons unflavored gelatin

1/4 to 1/3 cup sugar

1 cup 2% milk, whole milk or half and half 

2 cups buttermilk

1/2 teaspoon vanilla or lemon extract (optional)

1 teaspoon grated lemon rind (optional)

In a sauce pan combine the gelatin, sugar and milk. Heat gently until the gelatin and sugar have dissolved. Set aside to cool. Then add the buttermilk and flavoring, if used.

Pour into six custard cups and refrigerate until set. Serve with berries or sliced peaches.

There, isn't that a cool breeze on a hot summer day?

An Act of Faith

It's an act of faith to plant seeds when the thermometer registers 102º, faith in the life force resting in the seed and faith that better days lie ahead. Today I forced myself to stir from a lethargic state and plant escarole, Chinese cabbage and radicchio seeds for a fall garden.

Of course I didn't sow the seeds in the blazing hot, dried-up garden. I planted them in plastic egg cartons saved from the long-ago days when we didn't have chickens.

These egg cartons are perfect seed incubators. They retain moisture and admit light – two essentials for germinating seeds. I put them in the laundry room, which is the only place in our house that gets  sunlight during the summer months. (Deep eaves prevent solar gain during the summer, but allow for solar gain when the sun goes south for the winter.)

As soon as the seeds germinate I will open the egg cartons to allow the seedlings to grow and to prevent damping off. Damping off is a fungus that destroys the stem of a seedling in an overly moist environment.

The seed starting medium has extra phosphorus to stimulate root growth. I will be able to see the white rootlets through the clear plastic. As soon as the seedlings develop their first true leaves I will transplant them into potting soil in styrofoam cups with holes punched in their bottoms. By mid-August they should be ready to set into garden soil. They will need to be acclimated first by gradual exposure to outdoor temperatures and sunlight.

Our climate is changing, no doubt about that. Summers are hotter and drier. The traditional summer garden in Kansas may soon become nothing but a memory. We will have to adapt our gardening to meet these conditions. We will have spring and fall gardens, as well as winter gardens in cold frames. That's the reality we face.

I have faith we can succeed.

Moth Festival Revisited

The day after I posted "Moth Festival Ends in Tragedy," a couple of late-comers showed up, apparently having emerged from their chrysalises too late. The beautiful leopard moth was one.

Another was a guy I called Red Head, who snuggled up to the sole remaining Brainless.

The next day, not one moth showed up at our front door, and no moths at all have visited since then.

Hey, guys, I was just kidding around about the moth festival ending. I didn't mean to scare you away. Please come back. I miss you.

We're Burning Up Here

Paradise seems less like Paradise than its antithesis. I've lost track of the number of days the temperature has soared over 100º. People, animals, plants and chickens have settled into deep lethargy.

The grass seed we planted and nurtured through the spring appears to be dead.

The leaves of my beloved hostas are drying and curling up.

In the garden, only the sweet potatoes, which love hot, dry weather, are thriving. Peppers aren't growing and the green beans have dried up. The few tomatoes that ripen are spoiled by blossom end rot.

Nearby corn fields are showing signs of firing, which means the plants, stressed by heat and lack of water, are withering from the bottom up.

Really, there's little to cheer us, except perhaps the nice crop of onions and shallots drying in the snake room.

Only the crows seem to be having a good time. A family of five has taken up residence in the yard, attracted by the last of summer apples. The crows entertain themselves by picking apples and carrying them to the bird bath, where they drop the apples into the water. Then they pick up the apples and fly off to consume them. I haven't succeeded in capturing that antic in a photo, but I did catch one scene involving a crow and what appears to be a grape it had ritualistically dunked in the water.

Aside from crow entertainment, I've chosen the distraction of reading some mystery novels by Jon Talton. These stories are set in Phoenix, one of the few places in the country hotter than eastern Kansas right now. Somehow they make me feel better.