My Stoic Cherokee

"Sometimes you have to treat yourself to the niceties in life."  Chandra Brown

Our family recently toured The Dallas Art Museum where we were all inspired by various pieces of work through many genres and periods. It was amusing to listen to why my husband liked a particular painting that I secretly found pleasing as well. As he described why he liked it, I found myself nodding in agreement and when he finished his last thought on the matter, the exact thought he was saying splurged out of my mouth about the piece too. It was one of those art pieces you wish you could take home with you because it jumped off the wall, said something to our souls that we both understood.

My husband and I have dreamily said we would buy a piece of property just for the Art value. Meaning, the wall space is what is important to us. There are pieces of art we have stacked in closets and against walls in our house, Art that needs to be framed and put in its' proper place. Art that tells a story or evokes an emotion or conveys a message. We want our walls to tell tales that provoke thought and enhance conversation.

Alas, life gets in the way of day dreaming and our gallery is in need of some help.

The Brown house is not run like your typical household; time takes you on its path and before you know it, those typical things that families tend to do to remember each other have missed their mark on the calendar. Namely, family photos. The last one we have was taken five years ago. I felt a slight pang of guilt for this neglect in memory compiling. The pang didn't last long when I saw an old friend post her artistic skills depicting two sisters in a portrait. This got my cogwheels moving and I knew I needed a portrait of my daughter to fill in my memory void.

Photo By: Nathan Brown

What makes this artistic adventure so special comes from the details involved. The original photo taken for this portrait of my daughter was clicked by my husband as we sat outside on our deck enjoying the Texas weather. We were discussing family history and the fact Cherokee blood ran in the Brown's veins. My daughter was playing with feathers she found in the yard and created the hairpiece and out of some wild fluke she let us put braids in her hair. I giggled at how cute our little squaw looked  and asked if anyone has ever seen a blond Native American before?

We told her how most antique Native American portraits hardly ever showcased a smiling figure, most were serious and it was rare that the photo was ever taken due to some superstitions.  We told her to strike her best rendition of how a distant family member in the tribe may have looked posing for a photograph. Her gaze and stature displayed in that quick photo, taken in a second that afternoon caused us to remember a not too distant past while living in the moment of family storytelling and play.

My husband and I didn't know how much that photo would grow on us over the following months. We captured more than just an image, we captured a story in that photo. The more we look at it, the more of our daughter's strong character and personality emote off the page. If one can capture a part of a personality in one pose, my husband did in this photo.  Strong and stoic, grace under pressure, all which lend meaning to her name; Alexandra.

Graphite Art By: Brook Burnaugh

I wanted to make that photo memorable, something that would last. Something that wouldn't be deleted or lost in an archive. So I contacted Brooke Burnaugh, a very talented artist who lives near us to commission the portrait that would become a working part of our 'walls filled with art' day dream.  I loved the fact she was local, talented and would be adding her style and artistic gift to a part of our life that has the most meaning.  Art should make you feel, should be lasting and make you want to keep coming back to look at it again and again, and this portrait of our daughter encompasses all of that.

If one can hit the art jackpot, I just did.

Flying By Faith

Our family has a deep respect for those who sacrifice and serve in the military. We especially love it when we happen upon a World War II Veteran and are able to thank them personally.

We've had a few great opportunities to do this, while checking out at a Costco in Colorado my husband noticed an elderly man wearing a cap stating he served in WWII, he made a bee line for the gentleman before he exited the building to make sure he shook his hand and thanked him.

I recently had a client who won a Purple Heart in World War II and I made sure and brought my daughter to my last meeting with him to make sure she was able to hear his story and meet a real life hero.

Make sure to take time to thank someone who has served or is serving this Memorial Day in honor of those who have sacrificed for our country. This National Holiday always make me think of my Grandpa Jack. I wrote about him previously and he certainly was an entertaining figure, a family legend we all end up talking about with a gleam in our eye.

So here is the finger-biting account of the night it took a community acting together to help save Jack from a perilous disaster.

Jack Koch with his 2 eldest sons, Jim and Bill

Jack seemed to run on his own clock. You would often here the double tap honk of his car horn announcing it was time to go while long goodbyes were dolled out by others. He was a speed demon, peddle to the metal kind of guy, even when others didn't feel the need to rush.

Jack liked the draw of adventure, he grew up rollerskating the hills of Seattle Washington, daring his friends to enter haunted houses, riding Harley Davidson motorcycles and flying airplanes. It seems Jack looked for the fun in life, caution was cast to the wind more than a few times in his lifetime. We all liked to tease that Jack scared his own guardian angels on a regular basis.

One fateful September night in 1949 Jack not only scared his guardian angels, he, and I quote from the newspaper article, "scared the wits out of Osceola" (a small town in Wisconsin).  Jack was enjoying his latest pastime, flying his small prop plane, putting in air time hopping from small town to small town that dotted the countryside. Jack must have forgotten to wind his clock correctly because he miscalculated daylight time and arrived in the town as the sun was setting and the landing strip had no landing lights installed.

How does a pilot get the help he needs when there is no radio contact and he is literally flying by the seat of his pants? Well, Jack was a smart whippersnapper, he had crazy wit at his side not to mention guardian angels that were in dire need of a break when the thought to incessantly buzz the town square where business keepers were locking up for the night may get him the attention he needed.

As miracles often happen, the right people at the right time noticed and heard the low flying distress call  as Jack repeatedly passed back and forth like an annoying fly. Enter good Dr. Simenstad who was also the Secretary of the State Aeronautics Commission and an experienced pilot who knew exactly what his fellow flier needed. He promptly gathered available townsfolk who owned cars and lead them like gang busters to the airport landing strip where he lined them up opposite each other down the strip, told them to flick on their headlights and create their own landing lights.

Needless to say Jack landed with a "sigh of relief"gave his guardian angels a much needed break, thanked God for a community that was alert and ready to act in a critical situation and called it a good day.

Ahh, Grandpa Jack, you've been gone for some time now, but you are a legend that still lives in our families' heart!

Jock Koch's Memory of Service in the Armed Forces

1949 Newspaper Article by: Linda Jensen Gordon

Synopsis No More

Thinking seems to be disjointed in this day and age of industrialism, technology inspired- consumer oriented, go-go paced lifestyle. It's a world of people wearing many hats. These hats are usually displayed with pride and one defines their life by them. We tend to see people by the hat they like showing the most. In our categorized system of dealing with life, we tend to leave out the space needed for nuances. How do we define our closest friends or loved ones to others? We usually start off by telling the unknowing soul about their work status, sometimes but not always followed by their domestic status. Does anyone else in this wide world see a problem with this?

Rene Magritte; Self Portrait, Son of Man
Also known as Faceless Business Man in a Bowler Hat

Why do we allow ourselves to be defined by these industrial terms, display ourselves as a marketed product with images to be sold for acceptance? When did human virtues, character and quality take a back seat to these definitions? Shouldn't it be the other way around?

I hear people describe themselves all to often like a synopsis for a movie. "Hi, my name is Joe, I work for Dell as a computer analyst and I enjoy riding bicycles." The only information I gleaned from this is what Joe likes to do, not the why or where the inspiration comes from for his life decisions or why these experiences shape Joe into who he is. This quick definition is good for resumes and that's about it, so why do people seem to heavily rely on this 'pat and dry' method in relationships? Come on Joe, I know you're not as boring as you made yourself sound, will the real Joe please step forward? Maybe Joe doesn't even know who that is?

This type of interaction is all too common in our society. Stop and think about it, how many people do you really know? I don't mean the amount of people, such as how many friends on Facebook you've accumulated, I don't mean what they do for most of their time during the day but what makes up their passions for doing what they do. This usually involves multi-dimensional experiences that have meaning and usually involves one or more other individuals. There are stories to be told here. Are we that disinterested in others or so self preoccupied the norm is to readily accept the edit and cut-out short answer a person gives as a new term for relationship? Not only that, are we so pounded and conformed into functional cogs in the wheel we ourselves don't even know how to articulate who we are to others?

I find myself caught in this crazy thinking web and like an insect struggling to free myself from this entanglement it seems to take all the energy I have to cut free. The impending doom of this unnatural relational cycle grates at the very gut of my being. We are not put on this earth to pass each other on the road with little signs stating a few words that supposedly describe your entire being, say nice to know you and keep going on our way. We need to stop, look at these pathetic signs, look the traveler in the eye and say, I've read your synopsis, but now lets sit down on the by way for a foot rest and tell me who you really are and not be afraid to tell the story. (and I want the good, the bad the ugly, it all mixes to make us who we are).

There is accountability, responsibility, community in this act of quiet listening and telling of personal stories. It makes us human, in fact, I believe it makes us want to be the best we can be. It is looking at a person in the flesh but seeing character, passion, emotion; the make-up of a soul, the true person.

The hardest part is this act takes vulnerability and the chance of running into someone along the path who is still pre-occupied with self interests and doesn't understand the art of relationship. This shouldn't stop us from trying to see people for who they really are, these bumps give us opportunity to forgive, to teach, to be an example.

I've recently experienced a little more depth in a relationship because the individual stepped outside their comfort zone and started to tell more of their story. It has been WONDERFUL for me.

If you take anything from this post, please take this: Talking about your story to those you trust is like rain in the desert. It is not selfish or prideful but a sharing and giving that is unique and can only come from you.

Note:
These thoughts are inspired by the recent reading of "The Art of the Commonplace, Agrarian Essays of Wendell Berry."

Where have you been all my life Wendell?

Mother's Day

Well, another marketed Holiday is upon us and I am not prepared, per my usual Holiday habit. I really don't like these regulated, consumer oriented, go out and buy things because it's on a calendar celebrations. Although, I will admit, this upcoming one makes me want to milk it a little.  So I will, in the form of a slightly peevish poem (to come later) but first, I want to turn my thoughts from the marketing aspect and focus on the real important stuff, the people and why we celebrate Mother's Day.

Mom, Mother, Mum, Mommy. These are some of the endearments we use to beckon the one with whom we are timelessly attached too our entire lives.  We come up with variations in our endearments that have meaning and depth. I teasingly call my Mom, 'Mudder'. It's a fun story on how we decided to call her by her 'Mom' nickname. It involves family story telling and a piece of a cake but that is another story for another blog post.

The picture posted is of my beautiful Mom, but oh, she is so much more than her apparent good looks. This woman is multi-dimensional and a ton o' fun packed into her 5' 4" frame. There is never a dull moment when in the presence of 'Susie-Q' Debee. Growing up with her always had a laugh or an adventure twist that made for some wonderful memories.

Highschool Graduation Photo: Susie Koch

I dedicate the following true words about Mothers Day to this iconic woman who keeps on her toes, works whirls around the young folk, still brings home the bacon, fries it up too, jumps out of airplanes for the hell of it and whose firecracker wit is all her own. I just have to stop, stare at her picture and the thought spills out of me, "What a WOMAN!" 

Mother's Day

If you have a child, every day is Mother's Day

You don't ever get a break

It is the real, full time job, twenty-four-seven reality

and it's not always a piece of cake.

It takes a strong willed woman

to take the challenge in stride

this job isn't for pansies, the weak or unqualified.

Too many dreamers step up to this role

uneducated about its' requirements

they find themselves enrolled in boot camp

that reorganizes their sentiment.

Every woman should know the truth,

the required self sacrifice

Honest details discussed between

Mother and Daughter should suffice.

If oral history is passed down and

potential Mothers are in the know

when blessing happen in their life

they'll be prepared and ready to go.

It's proven if you work hard and 

apply the lessons you have gleaned

the rewards keep multiplying in ways

you couldn't have dreamed.

The day in May to honor Mom

is great for showing your heart

so pamper, spoil and hug them

it's a good place to start.

Don't forget to tell them that you love them

the other three hundred and sixty- four days

It will only cause Mom to beam with pride

at the sound of her child's praise.

Chandra Brown

OH YA, My Mom's THE WOMAN! 

Beet Kvass And A Toast To Health

I don't know how changes work in your family but breaking out of habits sometimes requires going back to old traditions for mine.

My family has been making changes over the past few years in the field of health that covers a broad spectrum in living. We've combatted mold in our house by gutting the entire HVAC system and installing a new, better engineered system. We've tossed all our chemical filled cleaning agents and exchanged them with enviro-friendly products. I buy organic meat and produce and have even started my own garden. It's been a fun, interesting process educating ourselves on the why's and how to's of accomplishing a better lifestyle.

Although the changes have been good, we still run into health dilemmas. It seems a constant battle trying to be healthy in this day and age of modern industrial living. Our bodies take on a lot of stress  through outside stimuli in the form of chemical soup concoctions found in our air, water, food and pharmaceutical systems. Our mechanized culture adds to this onslaught of stress through technological demands that go against our natural make up. Sitting at desks in front of computers, radiation emanating from cell phones etc. are just a few examples.

When you take time to really look at modern life it really seems like a Sci-Fi novel found its way off the page into reality. I've been trying to slough off this toxic lifestyle for over a decade and it has been a challenge that has made me encounter spiritual, relational, political and cultural questions that leave me with answers I don't like especially for our future generations.

Before I go off on another tangent, I'd better get to the point of this post. Breaking out of a mold you've been conditioned to sometimes requires taking a step backwards (or maybe it is really forward's but we've been so conditioned to a way of thought we think it is backwards).

Farmer's Market
By: Crystl
'Beautiful Beets'

Food for thought:

My husband and I owned a restaurant in our not to distant past. During that time you have been trained to handle food with protocols for health safety. God forbid you fail a health inspection, it'll sink your business and fast. This is all important and good, sick people due to food born illness is not a goal in any business venture.

Refrigeration, shelf life and proper cleansing protocols have been the tools of choice to combat the food born illness issue. This is necessary with the way our food system is set-up using processed foods trucked in from far away etc.

I noticed a good paradigm shift recently in my household regarding food and its preparation and storage. With all the reading and educating I've been doing I always seemed to stop myself from trying those old ways of preserving and the process of fermentation just scared the bajeebee's out of my husband, "You're going to leave that out on the counter for how many days," he'd ask. I don't blame him, we ran a restaurant where leaving food out meant waste and money lost.

Yes, there is an art to these old ways. When reading the recipes for sprouting or fermenting, you have to know what you are doing, know the source of your ingredients and it takes fine tuned real food that isn't contaminated. It sometimes feels like a highly intricate chemistry class experiment. If done correctly the process makes some amazing, flavorful, health boosting food you can't find anywhere else.

So, I decided to celebrate the old ways by making a time-tested traditional drink with health benefits galore from a country my ancestors once lived in.  Somehow, I just want to toast to my health when I drink my home-brewed Beet Kvass. Ahh, yes! It is a fitting thing to do. Say it with me!

Будем здоровы! [vashee zda-ró-vye] – Your health


Beet Kvass Recipe: For 2- Enough to toast to and enough to make you want more


2 organic beets (peeled and diced into chunks)

1 TBSP Himalayan Salt

Filtered Water

*1/4 Cup Whey

Glass Jar with lid

Small mixing bowl


Place beet chunks in bottom of glass jar. Mix salt, whey and 1-2 cups filtered water in small mixing bowl. Pour over the beets. Fill the glass jar with filtered water to within an inch of the top. Seal tightly with a lid and place on your counter, out of direct sunlight for 2-3 days to ferment. After fermentation place in the fridge. You can use the beets again for another fermentation process or chop up in a salad or use as a garnish.

Beet Kvass on the Counter
Photo by: Chandra Brown

* I took 1/2 a pint of Organic, Plain Yogurt and placed it in a thin, clean dish cloth (washed with no perfumes, chemicals or dyes) and cinched the top of the dishcloth with a rubber band, hung it from my cabinet knob with a stainless steel bowl beneath the 'yogurt bag' and let gravity do the work of pulling the whey from the yogurt. 
Yes, I let it sit on my counter for 1 full day in order to render as much whey as I could. 

Making Whey
Photo by: Chandra Brown

Note: If you do not have whey or want to make whey, double the salt to help in the fermentation process. Allow longer time sitting on the counter for best results.

Note: Don't throw away the left over yogurt, it has now become cream cheese. It was extremely tasty. My daughter used some of it to make a desert topping.

Fun Beet Kvass Articles:
The Miracle of Russia
Beet Kvass by Hidden Pond

What fermented foods have you made?

The Wicked Deviled Egg

'Wicked in Waiting'
Photo by: stephendepolo

You started off as the epitome of a good egg; hard boiled, firm and strong. Then you split in two showing your true inner self. You mixed company with your crumbled yellow yolk and it was not good company. You let the red onion overly influence you with its feisty, mean ways and the garlic permeated you through and through. On the outside you looked creamy, delicious; dare I say, even angelic. You sat there with your smooth texture tempting me to come and taste. I gave in, sinking my teeth into the soft, supple, slick white and my teeth felt like they were gently being set on a cloud as they sunk in the whipped, creamy, yellow middle. My tongue swirled your tasty goodness in my mouth savoring every last ingredient before giving heed to the throat begging for its turn, then I swallowed.

Yes, you satisfied my taste buds, then your wickedness, your duality presented itself deep within me. I could hear your evil cackling laughter down in my gut at your success into duping another fool into your vehement torture. You were no ordinary deviled egg, you were wicked in waiting and you unleashed your true inner self on my digestive system.

I will never trust again.


NOTE: Here's hoping you have better luck with Easter Dinner appetizers than I do. I love deviled eggs but this past experience has caused me to question every one I see; somehow I find my forgiveness for food is blind and I will try these tantalizing amuse-gueules again and again. I just can't seem to stay away, that past batch was bad but I'm not going to let it spoil deviled eggs for me.

What are some of your favorite deviled egg recipes?

Conk Fruit Exploration

Mushrooms on the Trail
Photos by: Chandra Brown

It's always interesting walking the 360 Trail. The terrain always gives up its secrets but you have to go at different times of the year to see all that it has to offer.  These glorious mushroom varieties were all taken at different times of the year.  It's said that one sign of a healthy forest is by the mushroom population.

We noticed many polypore mushrooms growing on the fallen trees. Their job is to help in the decay process, balancing the carbon cycle in the ecology of the forest.  Mushrooms are fascinating subject matter. I could spend hours studying their ornate growing patterns. Their dual function of helping in the death process for trees and their life giving properties for human ailments adds to their interesting complex nature. They bring balance to the forest and human ecosystem.

Look at this wonderful list of nutrients mushrooms provide: "Mushrooms are rich in B vitamins such as riboflavin, folate, thiamine, pantothenic acid, and niacin. They are also the only vegan, non-fortified dietary source of vitamin D. Mushrooms also provide several minerals that may be difficult to obtain in the diet, such as selenium, potassium, copper, iron, and phosphorus."


They taste great too! 

I have always loved sautéd mushrooms on my cheeseburger, and tell my daughter and husband to save their mushrooms for me when we eat a meal that adds them as an ingredient.

I'm not confident enough to forage in the wild for mushrooms just yet, picking a poisonous one scares the bajeebees out of me. For now I'll admire them from afar while in the wild and stick to buying them at the store for consumption. I may try to grow some from a kit, as a fun solution to my mushroom habit.