So, I’m going to take a few weeks off and concentrate on taking care of my family.  If you’ve stopped by, I hope you’ll stop back later.  If you’ve made comments in previous entries, thanks so much for your time and thoughts.  I look forward to hearing from you in the future.

Talk to you later,
Dolly

P.S.  Maria is a budding photographer with real talent and limited resources.   Above isn’t her best picture, but it is the one that best illustrates how I feel right now.  I am impressed that she caught it with our dinky point-and-shoot.

It would be pointless to have nice weather and not go out and enjoy it.
It would be pointless to have a weekend and not spend some time with the family.
It would be pointless to have a hammock and not use it.

We certainly wouldn’t want our lives to be pointless, so we combined all three:

Pete and Jewels on the hammock.

Maria on the hammock.

Inspired by a veteran hammock user, Pop-pop, (Pete’s dad).

I, alas, was hammockless.

The morning of the test, I got up early and ran two miles to make sure I was alert. A friend gave me a ride to the testing site.  I felt like I was going to be sick in my stomach but, surprisingly, I did well.  Back then, home-schooling wasn’t legal, so universities didn’t have experience with kids who had good SAT scores but no high school transcript.  Surprisingly, only one school I applied to turned me down.

I moved in with my boyfriend and, to save money for college, went looking for my first full-time job.  I applied at a machine shop that made customized vacuum furnaces.  Totally clueless about what the job entailed, when the interviewer stepped out, I frantically rifled through the blue prints on his desk.  Returning suddenly, he caught me red-handed.  Later, he told me “I hired you because you showed an interest in what we were doing”!  After having hired many people myself, I can kind of understand that.

Working in a machine shop was interesting.  I’d get a blueprint of a part, carefully transfer the measurements to a piece of metal, then drill, saw, stamp, or wield until it matched the blueprint.  It was amazing to transform a plain piece of metal into an honest-to-god, useful piece of machinery.  It…it…was like having superpowers!

Being the only female there was never a problem because the guys were nice.  Still, I kept to myself and didn’t talk much–I was busy observing.   By then I had learned not to say much about my possum days.  It turns out that starting a conversation with things like “Have you ever watched a flock of geese sleep at night?”, or “You know how when you go spear fishing for spawning suckers…”, or “Even though I’ve had road-killed dog and it was very good, I wouldn’t kill one to eat it” just makes people stare at you.

Many years later, when it came time for my eldest child, David, to go off to college, I had a decidedly different attitude than my Dad’s.  Given that David and I frequently didn’t see eye-to-eye, I cheerfully waved him on his way.

In the family photo below, David is the tall one in the middle.  Looking at this picture, I can empathize with my Dad’s shock at realizing I was grown up and his angst at me moving on.  When did my David get to be so big?  Where did my little boy go?  It’s a hard thing to deal with.  But after this summer, I’ve come to peace with it.  This summer, in a very satisfying turn of events, David was an intern at a custom machine shop.

Roasted Kale
Ingredients:
whole kale leaves (do not use old kale that has been sitting in your refrigerator for a week,
wilted kale, really huge kale, or kale that has a funny sulfur-like smell)
olive oil
salt
1.    Preheat oven to 300 degrees.
2.    Wash kale leaves and pat dry.
3.    Cut out the main stem if it’s more than a 1/8” thick.  (Do this by folding the leaf in half long ways with the dull side up and chopping off the white stem along the back.)
4.    Coat leaves with olive oil.  (I dip my fingers in a bowl of olive oil and rub it on the leaves.  These aren’t low fat!)
5.    Place oiled leaves on a cookie sheet and space them so they aren’t overlapping.
6.    Bake for 5 min., then flip leaves over.  Return to oven.
7.    Cook for another 5 to 10 minutes.  (How much longer to cook depends on the size and age of your leaves. You want them to be bright green but crispy.  Dark green spots are OK, but you don’t want even light brown spots.  Experiment until you get leaves that are very crunchy, like potato chips, but not burnt.  You may need to take out the smaller leaves while the big ones continue to cook. )
8.    Remove the leaves from the oven and let cool.  Sprinkle with salt.  Serve immediately.
(If you get a tough vein while munching, just nibble around it.   For variety, I’ll sometimes sprinkle the leaves with garlic powder, fresh lemon juice, or vinegar.  If you use lemon juice or vinegar, put it on right before you eat the leaf or it will get soft.)

Trimming the kale:
Oiling the kale:
The roasted kale:

Then last week, I saw a lady buy “baby bok choy” (which I think is actually a cultivar called pak choi).  I know how to stir fry and braise it but I was curious what she was going to do with it.  She was Chinese and used it in stir fries, chopped up in soups, and boiled with a light oyster sauce dressing; which reminded me that we were served the last dish frequently in China and loved it.  So I bought a bunch and looked up the recipe.  Here you go:

Chinese Greens
Ingredients
1 lb. of baby bok choy or similar green
1 Tablespoon of peanut oil (you can substitute olive oil)
½ teaspoon of minced garlic or ¼ teaspoon garlic powder
1 Tablespoon of oyster sauce (available in the Asian section of the grocery store)
1 teaspoon of corn starch (optional)
¼ cup of water plus a pot of water
Soy sauce

1.    Put a large pot of water to boil on the stove.
2.    Pull the baby bok choy leaves from the stem and wash.
3.    When the pot comes to a boil, put in the greens.  Let return to a boil and cook for 1 to 2 minutes.  (You want the leaves to be bright green and just tender.  They will continue to cook after you remove them from the water.  If they are overcooked, they will get mushy and nasty tasting.)
4.    Drain the greens and set aside.  (If you think you’ve let them cook a little too long, drain them, return the leaves to the pot, fill it with cool water, and drain again.)
5.    Wipe the pot, put it on medium, and add the peanut oil.
6.    When the oil is warm, add the garlic or garlic powder and cook for a few seconds. (Don’t let it get brown.)
7.    Add the oyster sauce and stir.
8.    Blend the cornstarch with a ¼ cup water and add, stirring quickly.  If not using corn starch, just add the water.
9.    Bring to a gentle boil and stir until the sauce thickens.
10.    Add the cooked greens to the sauce in the pot, toss to coat, and remove from the heat.
11.    Serve with soy sauce.

I meant to get a picture of this dish when it was finished, but it got eaten too fast.  You’ll have to settle for a picture of the greens getting washed.

I liked her so much, I agreed to the documentary, and I’m glad I did.  I learned about how a movie is made and edited and I haven’t watched a film in quite the same way since.  No matter how intimate or spontaneous a scene may seem, there’s at least a camera person and probably a sound and a lighting person present.  I lost touch with Nancy for a long time, but after the reprint, she found me and we caught up.  She’s still in film, and she’s still amazing.  (The documentary has been divided into three parts and posted on YouTube; you can see them here.

When she and her crew were filming, I got an offer to appear on the Merv Griffin Show, which, at the time, was one of the top television talk shows.  I flew out to Los Angeles for the live taping.  California was a whole ‘nother world.  You could take a glass elevator up the outside of a hotel for an awe-inspiring view of the city while being jostled by super serious businessmen in conservative suits yet the very same hotel sold avocado and alfalfa sprout sandwiches.  Red, yellow, and orange flowers grew everywhere.  In nearby Venice, bodybuilders worked out on the beach with a complete set of weights as scantily clad people zoomed down the sidewalks on roller skates doing fancy footwork.  Even a film crew following me around was taken in stride.  What a hoot!

Going on the Merv Griffin Show was scary.  Walking from behind a curtain to face a big audience on national TV was like jumping off the high dive—you can’t go back.  But Merv was a cordial host and all went well.

Dad didn’t like the hubbub or me being gone so long, and he was happy when things quieted down.  I enjoyed the free trips but after a while I, too, was glad to get back to the simple life.

But at the age of nineteen and after five years of possum living, I started getting restless.  I wanted to do something important in my life.

After much thinking, I decided that there was no work more important than understanding the Earth and our place in the universe. Wanting to be part of the bigger world is why I wrote Possum Living and why I eventually moved on from possum living.  Wanting to help mankind move forward to greater adventure and understanding made me decide to become a NASA engineer.  To do that, I’d have to go to college; which sounds like a perfect subject for another blog.

When I was done typing the manuscript, I went to the library and looked up publishers.  None took me on, but one suggested getting an agent.  I went back to the library and got a list of agents.  An agent accepted it and sold it to a small publishing house.  That publishing house sold it to a big publisher and the rest is history.

I was sent on a national publicity tour.  My first major television interview was in New York City on the Bill Boggs show.  I put my stuff in a burlap sack (not having a suitcase), slung it over my back, and headed for the big city.  When I got to New York, I didn’t know how to hail a taxi.  So I watched what other people did, stepped up to the curb, and raised my hand.  A taxi stopped, I put my stuff in the back, sat in the front, and handed the driver the studio’s address.  He laughed and asked if I had ever gotten a taxi before and suggested that the next time I sit in the back.  I gave him a copy of Possum Living.

At the studio, I spread out a sample of possum food on a display table and sat down for the interview.  At first I was startled because the interviewer, Bill Boggs himself, made a snide comment about my dress.  After I snapped back that it was a nice dress and that his people had told me to wear one of my gardening dresses, he became as nice as could be and we had a wonderful time.  When interview was over, he brought out plates and cups.  We feasted with the crew and drank moonshine from a Mason jar.

When Possum Living was reissued, my editor and publicist at Tin House Press, Nanci, got in touch with Bill Boggs and, lo and behold, he remembered interviewing me.  When Nanci told me this, I was surprised that he had remembered me after doing thousands of interviews.  “Well,” Nanci said, “you were the only one who brought him moonshine.”

(Below is a picture of a possum feast on the porch in Pennsburg—rabbit, fresh corn on the cob, garden tomato and basil salad, mashed potatoes, homemade pickles, fry bread made with hand ground wheat, and mint iced tea with a dash of moonshine.  Ah, summertime and the living was easy!)

Maybe to make up for the hurricanes, we actually can garden all year.  In truth, the garden isn’t quite kaput.  We are still getting black-eyed peas and the okra is roaring into full production.

Okra is one of those vegetables that can really produce, but most people don’t know how to use it to its full potential, like zucchini except more obscure.  It’s good in gumbo, breaded and deep fried, stewed with tomatoes, or pickled.  But our favorite is grilled.  I grow Simpson Spineless which is best harvested as a medium-sized pod between 3 and 6 inches.  I snip the pods off with pruning shears, rinse and dry them, and cut off the tip and the top.  The tip is OK to eat but it’s the toughest spot on the pod and if I have to use much force, I know that pod is too hard and stringy to eat.  The good pods I slice in half long-ways, coat with olive oil, and grill at a medium temperature.  I use an electric grill (a gift from my hubby) on my porch to keep the house cool.  How long you cook the okra slices depends on the condition of the pods and the temperature of the grill, but it can be as short as 10 minutes or as long as 20. You want the ends to be crunchy and the seeds brown but not burnt.  Turn them once while grilling and judge by eye.  They should look like this… Put them on a rack to cool a few minutes, and serve with lime slices.

This morning, I harvested okra to take with us to Austin to visit our friends this weekend.  We’ll grill it, sprinkle it with lime and salt, and have it with cold beer while sitting on the back porch in the late evening swapping stories.

When we get back to Houston, it’ll be time to start the fall garden and dream of cooler weather.

Dad had joined the Air Force after a few teenage dustups brought him before a judge who told him to go into the military or go into jail.  After his four-year stint as an electronic technician, he left the Air Force, married Mom, and got a job in Florida working for a NASA contractor.  When I was born, Dad was 21 and Mom was only 18.  My brother was born five years later.

Once married, my parents fought constantly and viciously.  When I was fourteen, they moved outside a little Pennsylvania town called Pennsburg.  The move didn’t help and they got a divorce soon afterwards.  I chose to stay with Dad and my brother went with Mom.  Dad and I started turning into possums.

Once we moved to Pennsburg, I was old enough to pull off the idea that I had graduated early.  I could go out during school hours and do whatever I wanted. I was free to just go.  It was wonderful!   I could pack a lunch and go walking through woods and neighborhoods, along streams and over hills, all day long, free to relax, observe, and think any time I wanted to.  Possum living was a pure blessing to me.

However, I was always a little paranoid that I wasn’t getting a “proper” education, so I kept reading voraciously.  I was personal friends with the local librarian.  I also wanted to make sure I didn’t have any gaps in my math education, so when Dad thought that one section of my math book was a waste of time and told me to skip it, I snuck over to a friend’s house and studied it anyhow.

After a while, we realized that we were going to make it as possums–it wasn’t even particularly hard.  With the recession of the ‘70’s raging, we figured a lot of other people could use help gaining control over their lives.  It was the perfect time to write Possum Living.

Speaking of the garden, the tomatoes are completely caput.   I pulled them out and hung up their cages.  We had a great harvest this year and I froze several gallons of delicious tomato sauce.   Soooo good!

The green beans are done, too, as are the green soybeans.  (Green soybeans are usually called by their Japanese name, edamame).   If you haven’t grown edamame, I’d recommend it.  The plants are compact and the beans very tasty.  There are a couple of tricks, though:  The seeds rot easily so don’t soak them before planting.  Mine even rotted in my raised beds after a downpour.  I finally planted them in small 4”x4” pots with Bean Booster mixed in the soil.  (“Bean Booster” is granules of the bacteria legumes need to fix nitrogen in their roots.  Not having the bacteria in the soil is the reason why beans and peas don’t do well in a new bed and why they are one of the few garden plants you want to put in the same spot year after year.   I got my seeds and booster from Burpee.com.)  When they were about 3 inches tall, I transplanted them to a raised bed, and added more Bean Booster.  Since they don’t get tall, I can put them in front of the pole beans.

You don’t harvest soy beans one at a time like pole beans.  When the pods are very full but before they turn yellow, you pull the whole plant out and snip off the pods.  To have edamame for several weeks, you need to plant it in succession, say, a small row every few days.  To eat them, bring a pot of water to a boil, throw in the edamame pods, let them boil till they are just tender, drain, rinse in cool water, and let dry a bit.  Sprinkle salt over the pods and serve.  You probably know this, but you use your fingers or teeth to pop the beans out of the pod and throw the pods into an extra bowl. 

One more update–the audio blog interview I mentioned awhile ago has been posted.  It was for Modern Hippie, a fun on-line magazine with nary a peace sign or marijuana plant in sight.  You can access it at http://www.modernhippiemag.com/2010/07/15/possum-living-live-job-money/