It happens every day at around noon. Well, every festival day.
At least two blue shirted security guys go wandering past the costume house backstage. I see them go and think little of it. Everyone has somewhere to be, it seems.
I return to whatever I am doing, eating lunch, willing my foot to cease its swollen state, whatever.
Shortly thereafter, I am treated to a parade. It is a small one, I know. There are only two elephant participants at the Maryland Renaissance Festival. Their people walk alongside them, keeping them safe, keeping them in line (I admit, I do not know what all the people do as they walk the elephants to their booth. I just have a little want to walk with them too…).
The security guys are there too, keeping over-eager bystanders from coming too close and, inadvertently, making bad things happen. It lasts, oh, maybe a minute, maybe two if I am lucky and no trucks are blocking my view. The elephants move at a steady pace, daintily lifting their feet and putting them down again. Who knew something so big could be so dainty!?
The back elephant holds the front elephant’s tail with its nose, curled gently around in a trunk-sized spiral. Periodically, it lets go to sniff the gravel. Presumably looking for peanuts, Patrick says. I can accept that suggestion. But the sniffing does not last long, and soon nose finds tail once more.
It is so quiet, so peaceful. Softly they go by. And then they are gone. It makes me smile, to see it every day. How lucky am I?
As I think on this, looking at the ground the elephants have just travelled, I hear a light “crunch crunch” coming from the direction the elephants just went. It is a different parade, for the mimes upon stilts have returned to de-stilt, change costume, and move on to their next bit. Their parade is faster, but no less dainty, no less gentle. And it makes me smile once more.
It is fantastic to be back in Maryland. The site is lovely as ever and, while abysmally hot and humid on Saturday, the audience was quite happy. Hooray!
I learned new meaning to “The show must go on” this weekend. When one randomly collapses to the ground upon going down stairs back stage five minutes before one’s show, one must try to walk it off! I let Patrick know as quickly as possible so, in the very least, he would know why I was standing in one spot for much longer than normal. After the show we went back to the costume house, thankfully just down the hill from the stage, to get some cold water and check out what went on.
It hurt. :( We wrapped it in an ace bandage and finished off the day. Sunday was more of a challenge. With a swollen foot made even fatter what with the wrappings stuffed into a shoe that was now too small, I found myself with quite the interesting bruising by the end of the day!
In some ways, it seems, doing the shows was the easiest part of the day to get through. While every step I took hurt (especially when one of our dragons decided to die by flinging himself to the ground regardless of slow-moving me being in the way), having something do concentrate on made it easier. When your only task is to walk from point A to point B, every twinge is felt. But when walking from point A to point B, all the while being mindful of the fact that any one of these children could become hyper at the drop of a hat (or emote using his quarterstaff, much like our Little John) and trying to not lose place in these fast moving stories, it is easy to be distracted.
And, boy, did we have some great shows this weekend. Being on a different stage gave us a little concern, but we liked the space and were excited to give it a go. Our fears proved to be for nought. After all, who can complain about standing room only? Who could turn up their noses at happy kids all around?
Fun times for all! And even a couple of scones…
Life is good. :)
We are on the road again, and this time it is our long trip. The journey itself is not our longest, but we will be in Maryland for nine weekends then, after a weekend off, in Louisiana for six. Already I miss my bed.
Once again, we start across the country on I-90. It is a pretty drive, for the most part. There are many more trees and mountains in Washington, Idaho, and Montana than there are in Arizona. In some ways, if you do the same drive over and over again, you start to get bored with the scenery. There is nothing new, nothing exciting. Which is why we try to stop every now and again or take a side route if there is time!
Our plan for this trip is to split it into two long legs. My sister now lives in Iowa, which is about a 24 hour straight drive from our house in Washington. After that, we would only have about 20 hours to go. So if we drive without stopping over night, perhaps pulling over for a couple hours of sleep at a truck stop somewhere, then we have the time to spend an entire day with my sister and her family! Perfect!
Even with hour 3 hour sleep stop this morning, we still had plenty of time to stop down at Mount Rushmore for a little visit. I had never been; Patrick had, but not since he was a child. Mount Rushmore had always had a mediocre appeal for me. I would rather visit parks and old churches or farm houses. But I felt that, if able to, I should go there.
In addition to taking the break to stop, we also decided to take the smaller state highways starting somewhere in Wyoming. According to the Dash (our GPS system), it was a faster and more direct route. We were dubious about the “faster” bit, but we thought, what the hey. If nothing else it would be pretty.
And indeed it was! We drove through hills that, as Patrick said, you could almost expect Jesse James and his gang to be hiding in. The curves and colors of the rocks was truly astounding. There were little towns, and the very touristy town just before Rushmore with the houses built around GIANT boulders. And I do mean GIANT. They were bigger than the houses themselves! Way too cool.
The drive up through the National Forest there was awesome as well. I love curvy roads that look down into valleys of nothing but trees. Ok, so I love valleys in general. But these were especially pretty! We opened the windows and breathed that forest air. It was not until we were almost through that we caught up to another car. It was like we had the whole place to ourselves. Just wonderful.
The biggest complaint I have heard about Mount Rushmore is that it is smaller than one expects. This was not my experience. While I was not struck with the awe and wonder that the hills on the drive had impressed me with, I could see in this sculpture the talent, vision, and sheer force of will it would require to create something of this magnitude. I cannot imagine seeing a figure in a block of marble let alone a mountainside.
What moved me, more than anything else, was Lincoln’s eyes. How could that gentle intensity and sadness gaze over us from so high? Reaching us, as large as it is, as small as we are. That was beautiful.
Patrick and I took the time to go on the trail walk, seeing the monument from so many angles. It was good to be out of the car. It was good to walk in the fresh air. And the more we walked, the more intrigued I became. All this with dynamite?! In the exhibits, there were pictures and video of the men hanging in their chairs like window washers of yore. Except with giant drill bits hammering away.
And their work stands as a testament, long after they are gone.
It makes me wonder what I will have to show for myself? What will I leave behind?
Today, we went over to Lora-Jean and Greg’s for dinner and, using the last of the blackberries, I made a cobbler!
I put it all together, baked it at their house, and after dinner we ate it.
I did not think to take pictures. Oops.
But that’s the end of the 2009 blackberry trials. :) What shall I do next?
I have a cast iron skillet, and I know how to use it!
I also really like to use it and want to do more with it than fry chicken. Once again turning to Alton Brown, I chose totry his grunt recipe. I honestly cannot recall whether I have seen the episode in which this is made, but it sure looked good!
Unexpectedly, we were out of buttermilk. I thought I had seen two whole containers in the morning when I checked the fridge, but I guess I saw wrong. So I did the trick of adding a little lemon juice to regular milk and letting it sit for a few minutes and was good to go! Hooray!
Once that problem was solved, the dough came together quite nicely, if stickily. I tried a bit and it tasted like a good biscuit dough, if a little saltier than I would have expected or preferred. I grew up omitting salt from baking recipes but have come to th
e conclusion that it does serve a purpose. I can never remember what that purpose is, but I know there is one!
Into the fridge that went as I tackled the stove-top portion of my grunt. My goodness, it sure seemed like a great deal of sugar! As it bubbled and congealed, I contemplated the prospect of having to wait for it to cool enough to eat. That really is the hardest challenge about baking. I much prefer to eat it NOW. But then I burn my tongue. And often my fingers. The trials of liking
dessert, I tell you.
I was using a 12 inch skillet rather than the prescribed 10 inch skillet, for the 12 inch is all I have. I need not have worried that there would not be enough dough to spread completely or the blackberry layer would be too thin. All was well into the oven and back out again!
Finally it was time to serve! My one regret was not having any vanilla ice cream to go with it. Patrick had the last of the vanilla soy ice cream (which never did taste quite right), but I wanted a big ol’ scoop of hand churned vanilla. Oh well.
The whole experience was rather fun! The one drawback: be prepared to either look like a zombie for the evening or to brush your teeth immediately. For whatever reason, eating these blackberries stains your mouth in a way no other blackberry dessert I have ever had has done. It was quite impressive. My guess is it has something to do with the way the blackberries are cooked in all that sugar. But that’s just a guess. :)
Even though it had been a long day at faire, I was still determined to make those pies. I had made enough of the blackberry filling concoction yesterday to fill more than twice as many pies as had actually been made. Now it was just sitting in the fridge, waiting to be used. Why wait?
This time, I turned back to where I should have started in the first place. I initially was going to use Alton Brown’s crust recipe with the toaster pastry option. But not willing to be defeated by these pie things, I chose to attempt the actual pocket pies. The crust came together much easier than last night’s experiment and there was no chilling in the refrigerator required. I like that. Makes for slightly more instant gratification.
One thing I found better about this recipe is it required less filling in each pie (1-2 Tbsp. vs. 1/2 cup). With less filling to fold around, there was less purpling of the seams. There was a little leakage from one or two as they sat on the cookie sheet waiting to be filled, but the more I did the easier it became.
After filling the first sheet and sticking them in the oven, I started on the second set. These ones I decided to cook in the toaster oven as an experiment, especially since there were only three left as opposed to eight. The other thing I realized that it may have been the blackberries being so juicy that were causing so many troubles. So I dumped what was left of the mixture into a colander to drain off some of the excess.
Apparently something I should have probably done in the first place. The mixture did let off a great deal of juice over night in the fridge. Silly me. All in all, it went very well. Instead of an oozy mess I had a couple of squirts here and there and only one seam actually broke open enough to start losing actual blackberries. Hooray me!
I noticed no real difference between the ones baked in the oven and the ones baked in the toaster oven beyond the toaster oven ones having much less leakage issues. Definitely drain as much juice as possible! I also had chosen to dock the tops with a fork as opposed to cutting slits in the top (being concerned about juice seepage out the top). In hindsight, I think bigger holes in the top may have helped prevent some of of the seepage. Perhaps too much pressure inside caused the breaking of the seals? Of course, they could also have just been too juicy.
The only way to find out for certain? Do it again!
Poor Patrick. He’ll have to eat more.
**Aug. 16, 2009: They cooled very well over night, not being floppy or soggy at all. I stuck a couple in a zip lock bag and tossed them in our cooler. After a long day of shows and street work, they quite the afternoon snack! Still not soggy at all!
**Aug. 17, 2009: Stick ‘em in the toaster oven for a minute or two to warm and they are a pretty good breakfast option as well. Assuming they will last that long…
It was me:2, blackberries:1. I should have known it was only a matter of time.
In my search for an appropriate scone recipe to try, I came across a couple of options for little personal pies. Like the ones you buy 5 for $1 at the Hostess outlet stores that are probably ancient and covered in a crumbly, over-sweet glaze. Surely I could make something akin to this. And with tomorrow being a work day, what a nice treat that would be to bring along for an afternoon snack!
I had two options before me, both found at The Food Network. The first was Alton Brown’s recipe from the “Pie in Every Pocket” episode. The second was a recipe taken from a restaurant, with the “this recipe not tested by the food network kitchens” disclaimer on the bottom. Instinct told me to go with the first, but I felt I really should give other people’s recipes a try. After all, as it is often said, what could go wrong?
Sigh.
I actually followed this recipe quite precisely. Everything seemed to be coming together swimmingly. I was excited, comfortable with the prospects. Then I began rolling and cutting out my circles. I barely eked out four. I should have had eight! Forsooth! What had happened? I did not know, but bravely carried on.
My four pies did ok in the making. Something was not right, though. During the chilling session, some of the edges were turning purple from the blackberry juice. I was nervous, and rightly so. During the baking, I turned on the oven light to peek at what was going on. Slowly but surely, I found blackberry juice seeping every which way in a big, oozy mess.
This was just the beginning of the oozing blackberry juice. If only it had stopped there, alas.
I was so disheartened. :( I did not even bother taking a picture of them when they came out of the oven. They tasted fine, thank goodness, but there was no hand eating for these puppies! No snack for us tomorrow, but a yummy evening treat it did make. :)
After much searching the internet, I finally decided to go with the scone recipe found on the blog, This Engineer Can Bake. The idea of combining a little bit of that lemony tang with my blackberries appealed to my taste buds. And yet, I initially hesitated to use this one because it required heavy cream. And I had none in my fridge. Alas.
But using the ever popular Google option up there in the corner of my browser I quickly discovered an option for faking some of my own! Phew! Butter went into a pot for melting, stirred in flour for a faux roux (I think the flour-butter ratio was off for a “proper” roux but that’s what the people who suggested this concoction kept calling it). Added in the milk, brought it to a boil, reduced the heat, and whisked until it thickened a little. Back into the measuring cup and voila! Just over a cup of the stuff was in the fridge to cool. Whether it would work or not remained to be seen.
As I assembled the rest of the ingredients and realized that I also had no lemon to zest. Well, shoot. Not wanting to go to the store (at that point, I’d also have to get the cream which would defeat the point of my previous experiment. What can I say? It made sense in my head), I opted for a squirt of lemon juice in place of the zest.
Everything came together quite nicely. I forgot to save some of the “cream” for brushing on top to make the sugar stick. But, at that point, I was so excited about eating one that I really did not mind.
I admit, they did turn out a bit more purpley-blue than I had hoped (though I do not think you could tell from the picture). Still, they were soft and moist and oh so delicious! I am amazed they lasted long enough for me to take a picture of one.
And now… what is next…
All along the road leading to our house grown quite the mass of blackberry brambles. Perfect cover for those adorable bunnies, I dare say. But since bunnies can only reach so high to pick blackberries (and they do. I’ve seen it. It is extremely adorable.), I feel no guilt at picking whatever blackberries are within reach. When I can get Patrick to help me, I can get even more!
The second, and most recent, gathering excursion had its trying moments. Almost as soon as I set out, it began to rain. Not really a problem, I like the rain. I even like thunder storms (like the one I was picking in). But it made the berries take on strange shapes.
I learned something about blackberry picking: apparently, ants like them. They converge upon one blackberry. And the thing about ants is that you do not always notice them at first. Especially in the rain, when the blackberries look funky anyway. But I did figure it out, freaking out at the moving blackberry I almost picked and squeeking out a girlish yelp.
Then I looked in my pitcher to find ants all over inside. I guess I picked the wrong one. Got the heebie-jeebies and out the blackberries went. Luckily, I had just started so there were only a couple of handfuls in there.
At one point I thought I would be bold, venture a little further into the bushes than normal in an attempt to grab some that would normally b e just out of reach. I actually had to get out of my cardigan in order to detach it from the thorns!
Still, gather them I did. While doing so, I saw a bunny butt as it scampered under the bushes. I saw some resting bumble bees (could they have been sleeping?) and a resting non-bumble bee. And I saw a frog! Who knew frogs take refuge in blackberry brambles when there is a perfectly acceptable pond right around the corner? I also heard, though I did not see, the duck that lives around said pond. It was quite the adventure.
So far, I have gathered two Tupperware pitchers full of blackberries. That’s about 24 cups with more to ripen by the end of next week. They have been cleaned, bagged, and put in the freezer. My initial thought was to make jam. However, since we leave for our long trip in just over a week and I do not own any canning equipment anyway (I could always borrow my mom’s, but I’d still need jars and cute labels), I have begun to despair at filling the freezer full of nothing but blackberries.
Mind you, I would be perfectly happy having them. I could whip up a cobbler in a moment’s notice and dessert could be served to unexpected guests. Or to me when I’m feeling the munchies. Either way, having so many blackberries is a wonderful thing.
Except we have very limited freezer space. So, poor Patrick, he has to live through my experimentations. But what shall I come up with?
Personally, the biggest drawback to playing a theme character is the fact that it is inappropriate to be carrying around my camera.
“Look, mom, it’s Robin Hood and Maid Marian. That’s quite the dSLR she has strapped to her shoulder. Did they have those in the olden days?”
Not so much. I suppose if I was really sneaky, I could acquire one of those extra small, compact cameras and stuff it in my pouch or up my sleeve. But I tell you, you never know who is going to be looking in your direction and snapping a picture of their own to upload all over the internet.
Sigh.
It really is not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things. It’s mostly a personal choice to not do the camera thing (a compact one, not the SLR. There are limits, here! :)). In addition to it not being “period”, I really do not have the time to wander around setting up shots.
“Scram, kid. The folk hero has no time for pictures with you. She’s got her own pictures to take!”
… No.
Then there’s the matter of security. With my luck, I’d either break it or lose it (which includes getting it stolen). Not really worth the effort.
My beef with it is related to my scrapbooking addiction. As I chronicle our lives, I like to include these events that really do make up such a huge part of it all. There are all sorts of stories I could tell with the pictures I take in my mind. Kind of what this whole blog thing is for, story wise, I guess. But I love to tell them with pictures! Erg.
So, instead, I rely on the friendly customers we have met. A handful appear with their favorite shots of us with their kids, either in a show or a pose, from years past. Most are people who just love taking pictures and love giving prints to their subjects because it makes them happy (which makes me happy, so it’s win-win!). And another handful are actually professionals who, for whatever reason, feel it is fair to give access to their shots to us for free (you find some of those on our website, with great appreciation and links! Hee).
Whatever the case may be, I slowly collect shots of us at different festivals. Certainly not as many as I would take. Well, more in some ways. Like as not I would not be taking pictures of us but of other things I find interesting. Still, I get enough to make a photographic accent to the stories I have to tell of the festivals we work. Which lets me share with family and friends glimpses of the life we lead on the road.
I love that.
