February 2011

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The Soul Speaks

Dance is the hidden language of the soul.

Martha Graham

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Happy Wednesday!

I hope you are warm and happy and getting around safely in all the crazy weather.  I think we Pacific Northwesterners have got the best of the lot, dry and frigid, so I won’t complain about my toes being in a permanent state of cold.  Which also reminds me, the hubster brought home something nasty from the woodshed, tee hee, no not really, from somewhere virus laden, and has been battling a cold for a week.  I was feeling a bit smug thinking my immune system superior and all the yoga I’ve been doing acting like a samurai defense system.  Alas, I have been taken down a peg.  My nose is stuffy and my throat a bright shade of crimson.  Boo.  I still practiced yoga this morning (there’s no stopping the challenge today!), and actually feel a tad better.

Anyhoo, I hosted a little Valentine making party last night with some of the ladies and made these pretzels.  Truth be told, I’ve been on a bit of a pretzel bender.  I’ve made a couple of batches, ordered them at restaurants (Gruner – you’re next! Sorry about the missing umlaut, too.  I can’t make them here.), and gone to the mall just to feed my craving.  As for these, they are pretty darn good: chewy, with a slight crunch, and super easy to make.  The ladies and the hubster loved them, too.  Double happiness!  Or would that be triple?!

Pretzels

adapted from All Recipes

1 package or 2 1/4 teaspoons dry active yeast

2 tablespoons brown sugar

1 1/4 teaspoons salt

3/4 cup warm milk (110 degrees)

3/4 cup warm water (110 degrees)

1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour

2 1/2 cups flour

2 cups warm water (110 degrees – it’s the magic number!)

2 tablespoons baking soda

2 tablespoons melted butter

2 tablespoons coarse salt

Dissolve the yeast, brown sugar, and salt in the warm milk and 3/4 cup warm water.  Allow to sit until the yeast blooms and is slightly frothy.  Stir in flour, and knead dough on a floured surface until smooth and elastic, about eight minutes.

Place in a greased bowl, turning to coat the surface.  Cover and let rise for one hour.

Grease two full size cookie sheets, set aside.

Combine the 2 cups warm water and baking soda in a bowl with enough room for you to swish your hands.

Cut the risen dough into 12 pieces.  Roll each piece into a long, thin rope, about three feet long.  If you leave it too thick, your pretzels will be more like rolls.  Dip the rope into the warm baking soda and water mixture.  Place on the cookie sheet, and twist into a pretzel shape.  Sprinkle with salt.

Bake at 550 degrees for about 8 minutes or until a dark golden brown.  Brush with butter immediately after removing from the oven.  Remove to a cooling rack.

I recommend eating them as soon as they are cool enough to handle, served plain or with coarse ground mustard.  They’d also be great sprinkled with cinnamon sugar,  black pepper, or garlic.  Come to think of it, I might add coarse ground pepper to the dough next time.

Enjoy!

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Hello friends –

Thanks so much for the kind words these past days.  They warm my heart, buoy my spirits, and are truly appreciated.

Something else that keeps me aloft, and that I mentioned in that last post, is yoga.  I began practicing eleven years ago, answering the call to a $5 class at a tiny hot yoga studio on Ankeny Street here in Portland.  That first time was a singular experience.  The room was crowded with people, and I worked earnestly and completely alone for ninety minutes, sweat dripping from every pore.   It felt wonderful, and I enjoyed this new and sometimes baffling way of moving my body: the clarity and stillness of mind, and the particular sense that I found something right for me.

This sense of right came from the fact that I was not yearning to be elsewhere or wondering how much longer it would take.  I was immersed in being the postures.  I was (and remain) gratified, intrigued, interested, and excited by my body and its capabilities (more with each day, though sometimes less – it’s funny like that).  With every other form of exercise, save walking, it is a means to an end with a hyper awareness of time.  One dozen bicep curls, a hundred sit-ups, a thirty minute run, spin on the elliptical, or row.  Everything is measured.

With yoga, I choose a sequence, and go.  I honestly have no sense of time, only the flow of the postures, the challenge and sheer pleasure of each asana.  It is never a nuisance or a chore to practice, and a day with yoga is always better than a day without, no matter how troubled my mind.  I am nourished, relaxed, and rejuvenated, if only during the space of my practice.  It tickles me pink as a summer peony.

There is an expression (Buddhist, I think), “When the student is ready, the teacher appears.” Yoga is my teacher.  It opens my heart, teaches me patience and perseverance, and gives me a flexibility and strength I never imagined possible. With yoga, I am better able to see with clarity, live in the moment, and love what IS.  So much for just twisting like a pretzel!

p.s. Yesterday was number seven of twenty-one of the challenge.  I am in love and held a back bend, with a smile on my face, for one long minute.  It doesn’t get much better, at least for now…

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