Riding to Sunset

it’s the end of the road;
the small circle sends you
back down from whence you came,
past the Turnoff to Switzerland Trail,
past the little yellow house
on the left, the pond loaded
with overfed trout on the right,
past the old narrow gauge
train stop for the miners, where
Greg and his black cat, Emory
live now; he’s come back in
from watering the dirt road
in front of his house to keep
the dust down.
Pass the Assayer’s museum
on Wall Street, which is open
the third Saturday of every month
from 10-12 a.m.
The young man working on his
motorcycle has gone inside
to call his mother like he does
every weekend.

Photo courtesy of http://www.rockymountainprofiles.com/images/Ghost%20Towns%20of%20Colorado/Sunset/p5220168.jpg

The Lives of Furniture VII: The Futon Sofa

she bought it with her first husband,
when futon sofas were a new thing and
the futons were hard as rock and good
for your back; they were tough back then
and in love.
she and the sofa traveled on alone,
some friends carried it out and placed
it in a truck, leaving the husband
behind with the flowered
couch that they had also bought together;
they each needed a couch for reading novels
late at night.
it was a fort, folded down, a place
for five little girls to sleep for an overnight,
it moved upstairs and the second husband
sat on it, listening to music, ignoring
the world below.
the second husband left, and she and
the sofa continued without him;
they did not care if he had a place
to read a novel or listen to music.
today, she separated from the sofa
and watched the two most important
men in her life carry it outside and
load it into a truck.
she doesn’t need the sofa anymore;
there are so many other places
in the world to read a good novel.

Les Tartines en Québec

Je veux manger les tartines
en Québec, sans cuire le pain
moi-même, contente que le
pain est bien fait ici.
Je veux marcher dans les
vieux églises, avec les
fenêtres en bleu, rouge et
vert et le soleil qu’on voit
derrière autant que les peintures,
les bancs, le croix seraient dedans.
On se promènera dans la
vielle ville et s’arrêtera dans
tous les musées, âpres qu’on
ira dans une petite café, pour
manger une tartine avec du
beurre et confiture, que je n’avait
pas cuit moi-même.

Le Creuset knock-offs

The pyrex casserole with the
glass lid was taken reluctantly
across the street to the neighbor
who returned from her travels
and who I know cooks a lot.
The latest loaf disappeared into
the mouths of babes; neighbors,
children, skeptics and others.
I wandered randomly, or so
I pretended (to no one but myself),
into stores that may carry something like
a Le Creuset casserole, in navy blue,
the one I have always wanted,
although my mother’s would do
if she weren’t using it.
Possibly less expensive
options and red would do.
Miraculously, I walked out of
a store that did carry knock-off
Le Creuset casseroles, a red
one in hand and went home
and baked bread to fill the mouths
of neighbors, Belgians, skeptics
and others.

The Judges

the Europeans know about bread,
never having suffered through eating
Wonder bread,
(although balling it up and using it as
a projectile was fun),
so I offered the bread to them,
the woman from Slovakia,
the friend from Belgium ;
they approved with a smile, followed by
disbelief at the method, only in America
can you find a way to make bread
which tastes European without
kneading!

Generational differences in Breadmaking

Grandmother makes bread precisely
this way, exactly 1 5/8 c of water,
instant yeast, fresh from the grocery store,
2 ½ c. white unbleached flour,
½ cup of whole wheat flour and
1 ¼ teaspoons of salt.
Exactly 12 hours of rise time in
a cold oven and remove the dough
this way: spray a thin coat of cooking
oil onto the spatula to prevent sticking.
Set the timer to two hours exactly for the
second rise time in a floured cotton
towel laid into a 9” basket.
Give at least 30 minutes for
Le Creuset casserole to heat to 450 degrees,
every so carefully transfer the dough
from the floured towel to the casserole,
setting the timer to 30 minutes when the
cover can be removed, then another
15-30 minutes more to cook.
Once baked, remove the bread immediately,
letting it cool at least two hours before eating,
preferably one day.

Mother doesn’t have Le Creuset, breaks
into neighbor’s house and finds covered
Pyrex glassware, does not have instant
yeast but finds that dissolving active dry
yeast in warm water with a little sugar
will give the same result, doesn’t wait 12
hours because does not fit schedule and
does not wait 2 hours for second rising because
does not fit schedule, and realizes timer
is not working because the battery died so
does not know how long the bread has been
baking, eats bread steaming hot while
driving off to a camping trip with boyfriend,
bread is gone within 12 hours.

Daughter does not have time for second
rising, mixes up dough, lets rise for
as many hours as seems reasonable or fits
schedule, dumps dough into floured
dish, puts it in cold oven, turns up the heat
to 450 degrees and figures that’s good enough
for a second rising, goes to coffee shop
to meet a friend, comes back, takes the
cover off for a few minutes, calls it good
and eats the whole thing with butter and jam
with some girlfriends in 10 minutes.

Oh how things change in a couple generations.

Andrea

i knew she would show up eventually,
perhaps a husband in tow, or not,
maybe a dog, in a car or on the bus,
a phone call perhaps, a knock on
the door.
i knew she would show up eventually,
likely without a return address, but
promises of one, maybe here,
i mostly knew that whenever she
showed up, i would be happy
and i am.