Old-fashioned Word of the Week

 

The Lawrence Tree

The Lawrence Tree by Georgia O'Keeffe

“The big pine tree in front of the house, standing still and unconcerned and alive...the overshadowing tree whose green top one never looks at... One goes out of the door and the tree-trunk is there, like a guardian angel. The tree-trunk, the long work table and the fence!”— D. H. Lawrence

One of my favorite paintings is “The Lawrence Tree” by Georgia O’Keefe.  To be truthful, I always thought this was a picture of a great oak tree, mostly because we once had a huge oak in our front yard, and this painting has always reminded me of that majestic tree. 

But the Lawrence Tree was not an oak, it was a Ponderosa Pine, and it may still be living in Taos New Mexico.  These are long-lived beings, and I read that (as of a few years ago) it was still there.  This huge tree was on the ranch of D. H. Lawrence, the writer.  Under the tree was a bench and a table where Lawrence sat and wrote his books.  

O’Keeffe visited the Lawrences family and painted this tree from the perspective of someone lying on the bench. As the viewpoint is a bit ambiguous, the painting has been hung different ways, according to the ideas of the owner.  In some cases, the top of the tree is in the lower right, but I prefer the trunk at the bottom as that way seems more comfortable. 

Looking at this painting, we can almost hear the wind in the branches.  The beautiful tree (with the stars in the background) is a haunting piece of work.  It looks as if the branches are dancing in the night—unaware of and unconcerned with anything else that may be happening and scattering their free gift of oxygen to the universe. Surely, the great tree overhead encourages dreaming and creating, and the soft breeze in the branches whispers that most anything might be possible—including the writing of elegant stories.

It is a beautiful painting, and probably a magnificent tree.

Cabbage and Noodles

For a hearty and satisfying dish on a cold winter’s day, fried cabbage and noodles is an economical choice.  This is not a fancy meal, but it is especially comforting when the weather is cold and dark.  Because of the cabbage, it is also very healthy. 

My mother-in-law made this dish with butter and onions, but we don’t use butter anymore, and we don’t care for too much onions, so I use cooking spray and onion flakes.  Of course, you can use onions and butter if you want too—and add bacon besides, but it isn’t quite as healthy. 

Here is the recipe that should feed about 4 people or 2 hungry Hobbits:

Cooking spray
½ head of cabbage grated
8 ounces of noodles or other pasta cooked
sliced, canned mushrooms (optional)
Onion or onion flakes

Spray the skillet (or wok) with cooking spray so it doesn’t stick.  If you are using onion, cook it until it caramelized.  Otherwise, put in the grated cabbage and sauté until it is tender and slightly brown.  Put in the onion flakes if you are using them.  Then add the cooked noodles, and heat the whole thing until hot.  Add the mushrooms last, if you want them.  Of course, you can sauté fresh mushrooms, but the canned variety is quicker.  That’s it, your cabbage dish is ready.

Notes:

In order for this to be quick and easy, you have to do some work ahead, and that involves grating the cabbage.  If you have a food processor, this can be done without too much fuss.  If you do not, well, there is that awful grater to be dealt with.  Since I have the food processor, I usually grate the whole head of cabbage at once, keep out what I need, and store the rest in the freezer.  Grated cabbage keeps quite well frozen, and it is ready for the next meal. 

Of course, frozen cabbage is probably not so good for coleslaw, but it is fine for this dish.  All you need is the cabbage, cooked pasta (I use the bowknot shaped pasta, but most any kind of noodle would probably do), onion (if you use it), and maybe mushrooms.  Not everyone puts mushrooms in their fried cabbage, but we like them included.  Use as much of the different ingredients as you have people to feed. 

It is the cabbage that makes this dish so healthy.  Cabbage is a member of the cruciferous family of vegetables like broccoli, cauliflower, and kale.  Apparently, these veggies are called crucifers because their flowers have four petals that are shaped like a cross.  They are all especially healthy, and they have a lot of cancer-fighting ingredients.  This dish is not only healthy, it is also easy on the pocketbook.

Quote of the Week

 

Valentine Herbs

Valentine’s Day is coming, and it might be time to get out some of your favorite herbs to prepare for the celebration.  For a long time, different herbs had been used to attract a mate, to keep lovers from straying, and to send messages to the beloved.  Here are a few herbs that were once considered helpful in finding (and keeping) that special someone.

First of all, coriander was mentioned in the Arabian Nights as a way to attract a lover.  A certain care was needed with this plant however.  If you mixed coriander with fennel, it could also be used to summon the devil.  Trillium was supposed bring you a warrior, which may or may not be a safe choice.  In any event, if you were to sew yarrow into a linen bag and put it under your pillow, it would allow you to see the face of a future love in your dreams.  That way, you would know who to look for—or avoid, as the case may be.

Some herbs were recommended to make a person more attractive.  For example, an infusion of horseradish in milk was reputed to do wonders for the complexion—at least, according to Hungarian sources.   Apparently, beebalm was once used by members of the Winnebago tribes of native Americans for smooth skin.  Lavender was used by the Greeks and Romans for scenting the bath.  Unhappily, the herb fell into disuse during the Dark Ages when cleanliness came to be considered decadent, but fortunately, bathing has made a come-back since.

Caraway was supposed to keep lovers and doves from wandering off, so it was an ingredient that was traditionally added to love charms and bird feed.  Rosemary was for remembrance and fidelity, and that is always important in a good relationship. If you wanted to send your beloved a secret message, you could give them a small posy of flowers and herbs.  In Victorian times, a special language was invented to “speak” to someone silently through the choice of plant material that was included in the bouquet.

Here are some common herbs and their meanings.

Basil symbolizes both love and hate.  Context is important here, so more information would be necessary.
Chamomile means to have patience.  Be still and keep your nose clean.
Lemon Balm says “I have sympathy with your situation,” or “you should have sympathy with mine.”
Mint means wisdom.  Hopefully, this is an observation and not an admonition.
Pennyroyal says run for it.  All is discovered, escape while you can.
Rue is the herb of grace, though some say it is rather harsh.
Sage denotes high esteem, and it is a lovely thing to see in any posy—or soup.
Marjoram is the herb of happiness. 

May you see much marjoram in your bouquet.

Book Review: The Nowhere man

Book Review: The Nowhere Man by Ian Wilson

by Aunt Hilda

Ian Wilson’s The Nowhere Man is a quiet, eerie novel that blends rural nostalgia with a creepy sense of the supernatural. Set in the Cheshire countryside, the story follows Sarah Pennington, who returns to her childhood farm after the sudden death of her father. What begins as a tale of grief and homecoming gradually changes into a mystery.

The story begins in earnest when Sarah encounters a painting in a village gallery — a mist‑shrouded woodland bridge with a shadowy figure standing among the trees. The image exerts a strange fascination, stirring emotions she cannot understand. The author uses this moment to great effect: the painting becomes both a literal object and a gateway into Sarah’s unresolved past. The painting is not just a clue; it is more like a haunting.

The author seems to be at his best when describing the countryside — the damp hush of the woods, the soft roll of farmland, the way mist can make the familiar feel suddenly enchanted or threatening. These landscapes are not just backdrops; they are emotional territories as well. Sarah’s grief is mirrored in the fog, the silence, the sense of something half‑seen at the edge of perception.

Then comes introduction of Jonathon Ripley, the artist behind the painting. Jonathon is not a brooding genius; he is simply a man who paints what he sees — or what he thinks he sees. When Sarah persuades him to help her uncover the origins of the mysterious image, the novel shifts into a detective story. Wilson handles this transition well, keeping the tone contemplative rather than sensational.

The “Nowhere Man” himself — the shadowy figure glimpsed in the painting — is a eerie creation. Wilson wisely avoids over‑explaining him. Instead, the figure functions as a strange presence, a symbol of grief, transition, and the way the past can stand silently among the trees on the edges of one’s memory.  If you are expecting a horror novel or a thriller you may find the ambiguity frustrating, but for those who appreciate atmosphere over answers, the restraint is part of the book’s charm.

Where the novel shines most is in its emotional backstory.  The investigation seems to be a metaphor for grief itself: wandering through fog, following faint traces, trying to make sense of something that resists understanding. The final chapters, in which Sarah faces the Nowhere Man directly, offer a catharsis that feels earned rather than engineered.

In the end, Wilson delivers a gentle, eerie, and emotionally intelligent novel that lingers like mist on the edge of a forest. It is a story about art, memory, and the ghosts we carry — not the kind of ghosts that rattle chains, but the kind that stand quietly in the woods, waiting to be recognized.

Latin Phrase of the Week

 

Hidden History of Nursery Rhymes

Nursery rhymes are often dismissed as silly verses for children, filled with talking animals, tumbling eggs, and dancing dishes. Yet beneath their playful surface lies a hidden history of political, and cultural significance. Many of these rhymes originated in times of turmoil and were used as subtle vehicles for satire, protest, or commentary. Their simplicity masked complex truths—making them both entertaining and subversive.