Not much to say, today, but wanted to show off one of my favorite photos. Surrounded by the safety in many uncles (the blue stripes and the adult finger belong to two of them) a young boy learns about which wildlife is to be trusted, a family tradition meant to instill wisdom and fearlessness:
Tomorrow I’ll show you why this post was late.
I seldom use the suggestions for Postaday blogging but one recent topic has struck my fancy: explaining my name.
Katharine is a popular name, if you count all its variants, such as Ekaterina, Caitlin, Kate, Kitty, and even Karen. Chosen by Russia for its famous queen, by Shakespeare for his famous shrew, and by the parents of the famous actresses, Carlyle, Hepburn, Z-Jones, and Ross, it is now also the top hit on every search engine because of England’s recent joy.
Katharine is also a family name, for me, handed down from my mother’s side. According to her, the family, being Lutheran, chose the name of Martin Luther’s wife for one of their daughters. Eventually it came to me to bear the honor of sharing with this great woman who never really achieved fame, nor wanted it.
We go farther back than that, however, back to the foundations of language, itself.
Specifically, the First Century Greek language contains words like katharismos, meaning “purifying”, and katharos, meaning “pure”. With Greek being the dominant language of much of the western world for some time, it yielded the name, Katharine, a good choice for parents to name a daughter if they aspired to purity for her, and a popular choice if they were educated people.
In the early fifties, I discovered my name means “purity”. I wish I could say this discovery dominated my every act from then on. However, the thought of it did lend me a certain awareness of possessing a backbone, of wondering about purity. Although this awareness resided quietly in the back of my mind for many years, it would occasionally surface, especially when I learned a meaning of any other name. In fact, learning name meanings became a hobby I enjoyed from about age eight.
No kidding, at a young age, I read baby name books from cover to cover, comparing the names of my acquaintances to my perceptions of their personalities, and, later, comparing the names of various beaus and the implications of the meanings, to my future.
Even today, when a person introduces himself to me, I mentally scour the pages of names I memorized for clues to his personality. Fitting or not, it colors my first impression. Still, I also realize we cannot help the name our parents chose and not every “John” grows up to be “Baptist”, although I believe each one is “given of God”, which is what the name means.
This beginning made me a person who feels sorry for people whose names have no meaning. Chosen from thin air because they feel good in the mouth, like pablum does, these names often are misspelled by any definition of phonetics. Often they also imply absence of a daddy in the “family”, and sometimes the absence of even a granddad or great-granddad. It saddens me, for the bearers’ sakes, this having no definition or history, no foundation or instruction for the core of their beings.
Like candy, their names give only short-term gratification and leave behind no sustenance.
I would be unfair, though, if I did not tell you one more thing about those Greek kathar- rooted words: They also gave us our word “cathartic”, which word I will leave you to look up, and to chuckle about, to yourself.
Many of us grew up on good ol’ bacon and eggs breakfasts and just the thought brings back such good memories. Yet, I wonder how many know how it’s really done, how to put the sizzle into it without having steam coming out of their ears.
Start with a cold fry pan and crowd the bacon in it, because it will shrink and leftovers are so handy. Heat the pan of bacon slowly. This is what helps prevent shrinking and curling. I use medium heat for bacon.
As spattering begins, I add a lid to keep stray droplets in the pan. This also helps conserve heat, so you may want to turn the burner temperature down a little. Notice the lid is tilted to allow steam to escape.
This is also a good time to sprinkle with black pepper, if you like.
Once bacon is fried to your liking on one side, use a pair of tongs and turn it over to finish. Add more pepper, if desired. Watch carefully for burning; never use more than medium heat. When done, remove to a plate lined with paper toweling and place in oven set on low, or 150-170 degrees. Allow pan to cool some.
Now it is time for the eggs. Break them into the pan if it is not too hot. You do not want the eggs instantly to bubble and harden. The pan should not be very hot. This is the secret to avoiding “gristle” on the edges of the eggs.
The best spatula for managing the tricky task of turning eggs has a rounded front edge. For this non-stick pan, I use this plastic spatula, which, at these low temperatures is SUPPOSED to be safe. Hope they finally got the truth all straightened out about those topics.
Now comes the test. At our house, one person likes eggs over easy, another likes them broken, flattened, and cooked through. So at this point in cooking the eggs, I pick out the two I feel are most likely to turn out unbroken for the over-easy pair. I choose the two left-most ones. They are ready to turn when the white is mostly gelled. If they are slightly stuck, scoop the spatula under them from all directions, to loosen them, first. Then with the spatula in your dominant hand the and pan handle in the other, tilt the pan slightly to position the spatula under at least half of the egg. Gently tilt the spatula to lift and turn the egg.
If it breaks, you still have three left to try and get it right. This is another of my secrets: turn the over-easy eggs first, so if you break one, it can be for the other person who likes them that way.
Once you have successfully turned the over-easy eggs, you can relax. Turn off the burner under the pan and allow the existing heat to finish the job gently. To hard-cook a fried egg takes longer, so there is no rush to turn the other two, but do break them at this point, so the yolks can run away some.
Remove the over-easy eggs when the bottoms are done. My over-easy egg eater likes the whites hard. You can determine this by pressing gently on the whites, near the yolk, and if it does not give much, then it is fully cooked. At this point, the yolks are very near overdone, so removing them immediately is the next step. The longer you hold them on the plate before serving, the more the yolk cooks, so do try to hurry your eaters to the table.
Finish the fully cooked eggs by flipping them and waiting until they are cooked through. You may want to return the burner setting to low.
Serve with hot coffee and toast.
Don’t forget: the bacon is in the oven.
In honor of the 400th anniversary of the translation of the Bible into English, commissioned by King James of England in 1611, and originally published by Robert Barker, printer to the King, I will use this version for the rest of this year in these posts. Hope we can enjoy the quaint differences we find here and appreciate all that went into it.
Job Chapter 39
Knowest thou the time when the wild goates of the rocke bring forth? or canst thou marke when the hindes doe calue?
Canst thou number the moneths that they fulfill? or knowest thou the time when they bring forth?
They bowe themselues, they bring forth their young ones, they cast out their sorrowes.
Their yong ones are in good liking, they grow vp with corne: they go forth, and returne not vnto them.
Who hath sent out the wild asse free? or who hath loosed the bands of the wild asse?
Whose house I haue made the wildernesse, and the barren lande his dwellings.
He scorneth the multitude of the citie, neither regardeth he the crying of the driuer.
The range of the mountaines is his pasture, and hee searcheth after euery greene thing.
Will the Vnicorne be willing to serue thee? or abide by thy cribbe?
Canst thou binde the Vnicorne with his band in the furrow? or will he harrow the valleyes after thee?
Wilt thou trust him because his strength is great? or wilt thou leaue thy labour to him?
Wilt thou beleeue him that hee will bring home thy seed? and gather it into thy barne?
Gauest thou the goodly wings vnto the peacocks, or wings and feathers vnto the Ostrich?
Which leaueth her egges in the earth, and warmeth them in dust,
And forgetteth that the foot may crush them, or that the wilde beast may breake them.
She is hardened against her yong ones, as though they were not hers: her labour is in vaine without feare.
Because God hath depriued her of wisedome, neither hath he imparted to her vnderstanding.
What time she lifteth vp her selfe on high, she scorneth the horse and his rider.
Hast thou giuen the horse strength? hast thou clothed his necke with thunder?
Canst thou make him afraid as a grashopper? the glory of his nostrils is terrible.
He paweth in the valley, and reioyceth in his strength: hee goeth on to meet the armed men.
He mocketh at feare, and is not affrighted: neither turneth he backe from the sword.
The quiuer ratleth against him, the glittering speare and the shield.
He swalloweth the ground with fiercenesse and rage: neither beleeueth he that it is the sound of the trumpet.
He saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha: and he smelleth the battaile afarre off, the thunder of the captaines, and the shouting.
Doeth the hawke flie by thy wisedome, and stretch her wings toward the South?
Doeth the Eagle mount vp at thy commaund? and make her nest on high?
She dwelleth and abideth on the rocke, vpon the cragge of the rocke, and the strong place.
From thence she seeketh the pray, and her eyes behold a farre off.
Her yong ones also suck vp blood: and where the slaine are, there is he.
P.S. I picked these for you, all you moms out there. Enjoy!
Simple Gifts
‘Tis a gift to be simple, ‘tis a gift to be free.
‘Tis a gift to come round where you ought to be.
And when you find yourself in a place just right
‘Twill be in the land of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gained,
To bow and to bend we shall not be ashamed.
To turn and turn will be our delight,
Until turning, turning, we come round right.
Don’t you LOVE when an experimental trick turns out?
The first time I tried to make perfectly round fried eggs–the kind you put on an English muffin–I succeeded! My way is, I am sure, NOT how many people do it, but it suits me perfectly, I think.
And it was far more fun to figure it out myself, than to conform, anyway.
I know this breakfast post is supposed to come to you on Monday mornings, but life here is slow to return to normal. Lord willing, I will post another A-Okay Breakfast next Monday. In the meantime, try this:
All you need is butter and eggs and a small tin can, such as tuna comes in, or else a canning ring. I use a canning ring for our Frisbee Eggs. (We call them that because they are slightly domed on top and sometimes have a bubble underneath, close enough in shape to a Frisbee, making little ones laugh.)
Place the ring in a small fry pan.
Put about 1/2 teaspoon butter in the ring and turn on heat to medium, until butter completely melts.
Break medium egg into ring, holding ring down briefly, to prevent egg liquids from escaping underneath ring. Reduce heat to medium-low and cook until it is half-cooked.
Use fork to help lift egg and ring onto spatula, and flip egg and ring together.
Cook briefly on top side. Then flip again, to remove ring.
After removing ring, return to cooking top side until egg is done to your preference.
I had mine with several radish slices and salt. Served with 2 ounces pomegranate juice.
Next Monday, I hope to return to the old schedule with “Good Ol’ Bacon and Eggs”.
See ya’!
Oh, after such a long time of sketchy Internet service, the (round) sun is shining and the air is crisp and wonderful. Such cool breezes as we cherish are blowing over our land and the trees positively glitter from being so clean.
Opportunities to snap photos were also sketchy, since I believe cameras prefer not to be wet. However, catch this:
What I hope is a Viceroy caterpillar is gobbling my rue plant. His little middle is growing round and rounder. At least this one is leaving the dill alone.
We have a set of antique wagon wheels in our herb beds:
This first one shelters the cos, burnet, and thyme.
It’s twin decorates the rosemary and the pineapple sage.
I do love all my herbs and hope you have discovered the joy of growing them.
Home's Cool! 