I walked around my building today during lunch today.
The temperature outside was perfect: 75-80 degrees. The wind was minimal. The trees were in their late spring bloom and the flowers were alive with color.
As I walked, I looked down at my red shoes and my white legs. The consistent movement soothed me. The step forward, again and again.
I talk out loud when I walk by myself. On my early morning stroll through Hyde Park, I mumble thoughts, fears and hopes. I think about philosophy and then I create stories. Stories that float up through the arched branches. Stories that mean nothing more than a way to pass the time.
As I walk by nannies pushing children with names like Ella and Henry, I speak characters into existence that soon have their own children with names like Avery and Finn. As I stroll past my favorite bakery, brimming with hipsters and sprinkled with croissant crumbs, I create scenes of domestic instability, of urban renewal. These stories are fleeting, sometimes funny, sometimes tragic. They make my walks colorful and encourage me to leave my IPOD at home.
But today I felt anxious, and no story would come. So I started with my fear, and ended with it too.
The temperature outside was perfect: 75-80 degrees. The wind was minimal. The trees were in their late spring bloom and the flowers were alive with color.
As I walked, I looked down at my red shoes and my white legs. The consistent movement soothed me. The step forward, again and again.
I talk out loud when I walk by myself. On my early morning stroll through Hyde Park, I mumble thoughts, fears and hopes. I think about philosophy and then I create stories. Stories that float up through the arched branches. Stories that mean nothing more than a way to pass the time.
As I walk by nannies pushing children with names like Ella and Henry, I speak characters into existence that soon have their own children with names like Avery and Finn. As I stroll past my favorite bakery, brimming with hipsters and sprinkled with croissant crumbs, I create scenes of domestic instability, of urban renewal. These stories are fleeting, sometimes funny, sometimes tragic. They make my walks colorful and encourage me to leave my IPOD at home.
But today I felt anxious, and no story would come. So I started with my fear, and ended with it too.
But as I headed back to my 10th floor office, I found that the fear didn't frighten me as much as it had just minutes before.
It sat in my body, in a well-lit room, and I looked at it--
I talked to it.
I made myself known.
And I found that the fear didn't disappear, but instead changed.
The fear became softer. I could touch it without the risking losing blood.
Around us, so many people are hurting. So many people are living with secret fears and anxieties that don't find the light of day. Perhaps talking about your fear, even if it is just to yourself, is an exercise worth trying.
Fear doesn't like sunshine, and I'm flooding my days with those warm and bright rays.
It sat in my body, in a well-lit room, and I looked at it--
I talked to it.
I made myself known.
And I found that the fear didn't disappear, but instead changed.
The fear became softer. I could touch it without the risking losing blood.
Around us, so many people are hurting. So many people are living with secret fears and anxieties that don't find the light of day. Perhaps talking about your fear, even if it is just to yourself, is an exercise worth trying.
Fear doesn't like sunshine, and I'm flooding my days with those warm and bright rays.
I also made this recipe right before the accident. We had two of our dear friends over for dinner. Patrick and Alaina, who are part of a lovely band called Tennis, joined us for a simple spring evening in Austin. We ate together, laughed together, and remembered the days we shared in Colorado.
We couldn't help but devour this bread.
Monkey bread is a supreme treat in the morning. The sticky and gooey balls are made to be paired with a strong cup of rich coffee. But monkey bread is also delightful with olive oil and herbs--a more balanced and wholesome version of the AM indulgence.
This is a repeat...I hope you don't mind.
We couldn't help but devour this bread.
Monkey bread is a supreme treat in the morning. The sticky and gooey balls are made to be paired with a strong cup of rich coffee. But monkey bread is also delightful with olive oil and herbs--a more balanced and wholesome version of the AM indulgence.
This is a repeat...I hope you don't mind.
Herbed Monkey Bread
1 cup (8 ounces) milk or water
2 cups (8 3/4 ounces) unbleached all-purpose flour
1 cup (4 ounces) whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 3/4 teaspoons instant yeast
1 1/2 tablespoons sugar
1 1/2 tablespoons (3/4 ounce) olive oil
Herb Coating
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon fresh thyme
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 clove garlic, minced
1. In a medium-sized mixing bowl, combine all of the ingredients, stirring till the dough starts to leave the sides of the bowl. Using a stand mixer with the dough attachment, knead dough for 5-8 minutes. Transfer the dough to a lightly greased bowl, cover and allow to rise for one hour, or until doubled in bulk.
2. While the dough's rises, make your coating. Heat the oil in a small frying pan, and sauté the herbs and garlic for a minute or two. Be careful to not brown/burn the garlic. Set the oil and herbs aside.
3. Grease the bottom and sides of a 9 inch bundt pan. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface, and divide it into 32 small pieces. Roll into small balls and place into your pan. Brush the balls with the herb coating, pouring any remaining oil on top.
4. Allow the bread to rise, covered, for 1 hour. Bake in a preheated 375°F oven for 30 minutes or until golden brown. Remove pan from the oven, and turn out onto a serving platter. Serve warm.
Always,
Monet
Anecdotes and Apple Cores
1 cup (8 ounces) milk or water
2 cups (8 3/4 ounces) unbleached all-purpose flour
1 cup (4 ounces) whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 3/4 teaspoons instant yeast
1 1/2 tablespoons sugar
1 1/2 tablespoons (3/4 ounce) olive oil
Herb Coating
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon fresh thyme
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 clove garlic, minced
1. In a medium-sized mixing bowl, combine all of the ingredients, stirring till the dough starts to leave the sides of the bowl. Using a stand mixer with the dough attachment, knead dough for 5-8 minutes. Transfer the dough to a lightly greased bowl, cover and allow to rise for one hour, or until doubled in bulk.
2. While the dough's rises, make your coating. Heat the oil in a small frying pan, and sauté the herbs and garlic for a minute or two. Be careful to not brown/burn the garlic. Set the oil and herbs aside.
3. Grease the bottom and sides of a 9 inch bundt pan. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface, and divide it into 32 small pieces. Roll into small balls and place into your pan. Brush the balls with the herb coating, pouring any remaining oil on top.
4. Allow the bread to rise, covered, for 1 hour. Bake in a preheated 375°F oven for 30 minutes or until golden brown. Remove pan from the oven, and turn out onto a serving platter. Serve warm.
Always,
Monet
Anecdotes and Apple Cores
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