Cabbage Season

February is cabbage season. There are still leafy greens in the fields, but they are large leaves, not delicate salad mixes, soft and sweet. There are storage squashes, although they are beginning to rot and need to be checked every week. There are parsnips and beets in the garden bed, but, as the days grow longer, they will re-sprout the leafy tops and develop hard cores for seeding. Onions and potatoes are hanging in there. Canned tomatoes and green beans are a solid fall-back option, as are frozen peas and corn. But, really, late February and early March is cabbage time.

                We ate the last cabbage from the garden in early February. There would have been more—January Kings hold well in the ground—but Mr. Beezhold, our rabbit, discovered that he really likes cabbage and could jump up into the bed. He nibbled down two before I caught him and fenced them off.  So, we have been buying them at the Winter Farmer’s Market. Last week, I found the most beautiful cabbage I have even seen and took it home for dinner.  We ate the solid head in Rumpledethump by the fire; the rabbit got several deep purple leaves to munch on overnight.

                We like cabbage. I have at least four variations of cole slaw, with apples, with adobe chili, with lemon juice, as well as adding slivers to a mixed greens salad. It is good in soup. It adds bulk to a mound of sautéed veggies. It is good with peanut sauce and rice. It makes a nice gratin. Mashed with potatoes, butter, and milk, it’s a solid White Dinner. Last night, I mixed the cabbage, onions, and potatoes with cheddar cheese. We were pleased. Anything but an hours long, slow boil in a big pot – New England Boiled Dinner—is excellent.

                The garden season has begun again. I planted some kale and mustard starts in the greenhouse bed last week. There are quick start cabbages growing under lights in my classroom. Soon, we will be in salad season once more, all delicate leaves and greens. And I may miss the significant heft of a cabbage.

Rumpledethump

1.       Chop about two pounds of potatoes fairly small and boil them.

2.       Slice an onion and sautee in butter. Add a small head of cabbage, nicely sliced, salt and pepper,  and cook down.

3.       Grate about a cup and a half of cheddar cheese.

4.       Mix in a casserole dish and bake for about twenty minutes in the oven so that all of the cheese is melty.

5.       Eat by the fire in winter.

Valentine's Day, 2019

Thursday was Valentine’s Day. When I crested the stairs by my classroom, I saw the usual couple noodling at the table. Today, they were hidden behind a heart shaped balloon, a bunch of flowers, and a teddy bear. There was a batch of cupcakes in there somewhere; the guy shared them with his friends during class. Ten minutes into the day, the Spartan Candygrams began—voices singing love songs, loudly, while delivering lollypops and cards to students in class. Their voices echoed down the halls all day.

Thursday night, Mark and I went to a house concert, which started me thinking about the nature of love and how we celebrate it on this holiday. The performer was one of my old students, playing at his father’s house, for people who had, as he said, “known him while he was in diapers.” The audience was mostly older couples who had been together for years and years, who had lived in Corvallis for long periods of time, who knew each other and the other audience members, well. There were no hearts, no balloons, although there was some fine chocolate.

Listening to the music, my mind wandered to classes I’ve had—the performer was one of them—when there was a real connection between teacher and students. It’s not unusual for a class to work together well for the duration of the semester, but, occasionally, one remains close afterwards. There’s a magic in certain combinations of students, teacher, and material that lingers in our memories, leads to smiles in the hall, watching out for one another, and caring for the rest of high school and beyond. It also leads, quite often, to wild bursts of laughter in class, creative performances, and excellent writing.

The next night, Mark and I were at our local vegetarian restaurant, tucked in a corner at 8:30 at night. We’d gone to a movie, so we were closing Nearly Normal’s. A dad and son were finishing up their dinner.  After dinner, he came over to introduce himself. He had been a student at CV when I taught there fifteen years ago. I never had him, but he remembered me. He thanked me for running for city council, for representing his values in local government. “I live in Portland now,” he said, “but I still vote here. I can make a difference locally.

Valentine’s Day celebrates the specific connections we have with a romantic partner and sets up, in my mind, unrealistic expectations for long-term relationships. But, this week, I have been thinking about all the forms love may take, when we live in a place for a long time.

February

I’m sorry. It is February.

It’s cold, and cloudy, and grey outside. It could snow, but probably won’t. If it did, it would melt before we could call a snow day. It will probably rain. Cold, wet rain. The backyard is a mud pit.

At school, we are in the middle of the year. No new classes, no new faces. Maybe we will shift seats, check out a new book, open the APUSH textbook to the twentieth century. Maybe something will happen to the building, or the weather, so we could sleep a little later in the morning, but probably not.

We are all wearing sweatshirts and sweaters every day. The same sweatshirt or sweater. I wore my newly handed down brown sheepy sweater for six days straight last week. No one noticed. Some boys have had the same wool beanie on for weeks. No one wants to know what their hair looks like under there. Occasionally someone denies reality and wears shorts, but they still wear the same sweatshirt.

The Short Winter, from November through December with its lights and food and presents is long over. The Long Winter is upon us. Rain. Mud. Clouds. Sore muscles. Damp basements.

Cats have mastered this season. Curled up on soft pillows or warm sweaters, they sleep. For hours. Kayli moves twice a day for crunchies and to scoot under the van to pee. Otherwise, she is dreaming of summer on the footstool.

There are ways to move beyond the February Blues. Stay busy—I’ve got that down. Order seeds and sketch out the garden rotation. Notice that the days are, really, getting longer. Read. Drink tea with a book. Go to a museum.  Plant kale and lettuce seeds. Look for snowdrops and small buds on the plum tree. Make soup and bake a cake. Take a long walk. But, I’m sorry. It is February. I need the sun.

Climate March: February. Turn Down the Heat!

In the Mid 1970s, Jimmy Carter installed solar panels on the White House and purchased some cardigans. “Turn down the heat. Put on a sweater,” he said. “Conserve energy.” We did. The Reagan took the solar panels off and the ideas of conservation fell by the wayside. But they are still valid—conservation is the best way to prevent Climate Change and save money. Energy that we do not use does not need to be generated. So, I am back to the original idea. Turn down the heat. But, when you do, you need to make some changes in your home so that it does not feel cold and unwelcoming.

Dress for the weather.

1.       When you come home, change your socks. They may not feel damp, but they usually are. Damp socks mean cold feet.

2.       Put on a light weight wool hat or a sweater.

3.       Eat warm, home made food for dinner.

Dress your house to feel cozy. Even as a renter, you can do these things!

1.       Have afghans and blankets around to pull over your feet or shoulders when you are sitting still.

2.       When you replace your lightbulbs, make sure that you are using warm light, rather than cool light. Many older LED lights are very blue, which makes the space feel colder. Pay close attention to overhead bulbs, especially.

3.       If you can, paint the walls warm clear colors, not shades of blue grey or bright white. If you can’t paint (and, as a renter, I painted regularly, not always with permission) then bring in warm colors in other ways.

4.       Light a candle in the evening.

5.       Close curtains at night to keep out the drafts. Open during the day for the light.

Insulate! Save energy and have a quieter home.

1.       Start from the top. Ceiling, then windows, walls, then floor. Plug the chimney.

2.       Weather-stripping is great to seal leaks around the doors.

3.       Clear plastic stretched tightly across windows helps keep the cold out.

4.       Curtains will also help keep the cold out.