Chez Danisse

Midnight Blue

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 06:37:00 +0000

Outside The Aldrich, 2005

Just as the grey sky turned dark, I looked up and saw it. Midnight Blue. I was always partial to the blues, Sky Blue, Cornflower, Periwinkle, but Midnight Blue overshadowed them all, and there it was, in the sky, the same sky that was there every night. Why hadn't I seen it before? And why did it take me back to running through the snow in the silence of night. I don't think I even looked up at the sky, and I know it was well past midnight. I only remember my footprints in the fresh snow. He'd called to tell me he was in town. My younger more naive self found venturing out into the snow cold night a reasonable request. He missed me and something about him made me weak. Time with him was both thrilling and depleting. A place I could not stay. Part of me wonders what was I thinking and another part misses the innocence.

Midnight Blue (1987) by Lou Gramm

Midnight Blue (1958) by Crayola

A Postcard

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 22:20:00 +0000

L'Eternelle Idole, 2012

A thoughtful friend sent me this postcard from Paris, in 2004. It rests in the lower left corner of a mirror near my entryway. I've been looking at it lately, and thinking about relationships. When asked to accompany someone I care about on an adventure, I find it nearly impossible to say no. I don't want to miss anything. I've been this way for as long as I can remember. It began with my father, moved on to boyfriends, and now involves a certain husband. For this reason I have had much fun. For this reason I have also sometimes put my own adventures on hold, often without even knowing I was doing so. When I can find the strength to pry myself away from what I know and love, just for a little while, I always return with so much more to share.

notes

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 20:58:00 +0000

why we have saucers, 2011

I sneeze in a quiet cafe and no one says bless you.

A woman with pink hair is so loud I decide to leave. As I walk out, her eyes catch mine, and I imagine we could be friends.

Later a small dog named Tamale stands beside my leg as I sit on a park bench. It was like he just wanted to be near me, for a moment, and then he was on his way.

When the sound of traffic slows I hear the birds in the trees. No crows or seagulls, just song.

A Life

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 05:13:00 +0000

Today I Saw Two Pink Flamingos, 2012

It was dark and silent when I realized I was awake. I was holding two socks in my right hand, beneath my pillow. Wearing socks to bed on a cold night always seems a good idea, until it isn't. I inevitably wake with my socks removed.

I wrote this down in the library, the branch that inspired Richard Brautigan's fictional library of unpublishable books.

There was an old Mason jar filled with paperwhites placed atop a shelf neatly stacked with various newspapers and Chinese magazines. I couldn't stop looking at the flowers, and the jar. I'd never seen fresh flowers in a library. They changed the space in the most positive of ways.

I was also surprised by the number of people without keyboards before them, and the library quiet of the past.

A hardcover titled Paris Trout seemed to scream from the shelf across from my table. The title font was enormous and slanted to the right, as if in action. Freedom sat on a shelf to my left. I guessed its days of having a queue were over.

Still holding my socks I thought of a sentence Annie Dillard had written. I'd found it the night before, in the form of a note in one of my old journals.

I hear the river outside the window, if I remember to listen.

My river was the moan of the distant foghorn. It was dependable, except on those days that decided to turn blue.

Teaching a Stone to Talk: Expeditions and Encounters by Annie Dillard

Satsuma, meet Kishu.

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 20:58:00 +0000

Kishu, 2012

I've tasted my first Kishu. Satsuma now has a rival. Kishu Mandarins are smaller than Satsuma Mandarins, they are even smaller than Page Mandarins. Almost bite-size. No seeds. They are rumored to be easy to peel, but it's all a matter of perspective. The Kishu is not as easy to peel as the Satsuma, but much easier than the Page. They are not as juicy as the Page, but juicier than the Satsumas I've eaten lately. If the two Kishus I've eaten today represent the typical, I prefer their overall taste to both the Satsuma and the Page. Luckily I have three more.

Kishu
Satsuma
Page

Twilight

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 04:07:00 +0000

Half Past Five, 2012

There is something about the sunsets in La Jolla. When I'm here, I cannot miss them. I enjoy sunsets at home, but they don't pull me toward them as these do. I bundle up each evening and walk along the water while the sun sinks and the sea roars. I watch the horizon as the light shifts and the colors change. It is hypnotic. I saw a fire truck filled with firemen pull to the curb and settle in to watch the display this evening. So many people do the same. I understand. The sea and what's left of the sun absorb all of my tension. Most of the onlookers disappear with the sun, leaving the brief stretch of time before dark to the congregation of cormorants, and me.

FO

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 21:35:00 +0000

Hat, 2012

I kept meaning to ask the ever-inspiring Rachel what an FO was, and then I figured it out. It's knitspeak for a finished object (knitted object).

So here's my most recent FO. A hat. I finished it this morning and I'm so pleased. I bought the yarn from Sophie at Bluebird Yarn in Sausalito. The yarn is a Merino Wool/Alpaca/Silk blend (Mirasol Sulka in Wine, Shade: 203). I found the Colour Sparks pattern on Ravelry. It is also available on Etsy. As you can see, I decided against the flower. I just wasn't feeling flowery.

It knit up quickly, well, there was a bit of drama last night, but it was silly, so I won't get into it. It fits perfectly. Completing it was a nice way to begin a day.

And that's not all. I recently finished some pretty sweet fingerless gloves. I used Madelinetosh yarn for the first time. Laurie from Greenwich Yarn (here in San Francisco) thought I would like it, and I did. Knitting with it was a treat.

Watch out, I'm moving, albeit slowly, beyond scarves...

There was a man...

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 21:11:00 +0000

from here, 2012

The man in the furthest window seat from the door, the only space with a cushioned seat, he wears a faded green train conductor type hat and a synthetic vest with metallic safety stripes. I wanted to look at him longer, because he had a nice way about him, but he stood up shortly after I sat down. He very purposefully gathered his cup, napkin, and paper bag which likely held his pastry or muffin, and dusted away every crumb from from his table. He left with a free newspaper cradled beneath his arm and a humble smile. I continued to look at the now empty space and wondered what had been in his paper cup and his bag, what his plans were for today.

Temptation

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 23:50:00 +0000

voting with my pocketbook, 2012

So many books in the queue, but with a first page that begins like this...seriously, how could I resist?

Within each horseradish leaf, where it unwinds from the stem, there’s a small bead of rainwater. He sees one there, shining brilliantly in the morning sun, as if it’s been placed, a jewel, pure and dazzling. It’s perfect. This will be lovely he thinks, leading his daughter toward the plant, her hand so small and cool in his own, both of them crouching over the leaves till their shadows merge.

-Excerpt from the novel Sea Change by Jeremy Page.

4:02 PM Inspiration

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 00:02:00 +0000

inspiration, 2012

This beautiful slice of banana oatmeal bread inspired me. I hope mine inspires you. I only made my usual changes to the recipe, nine ingredients or so. I can't help it. It's my nature. I say start with Pam's recipe and make it your own, but if you really want to know what I switched up, just let me know.

Now for a warm slice...

what her world might have felt like

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 17:08:00 +0000

just before the new year, 2011

Lecia has me thinking. I'm not surprised. She does this often. Her post took me back to the day I was born, the day my mother became a mother. Of course, I don't remember a thing, but this song gives me an idea of what her world might have felt like, back then.

To Sir With Love by Lulu

was it all a dream

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 23:42:00 +0000

from the upstairs window, 2011

I just woke up and I'm wondering ...wait, was it all a dream?

Beginning the day with a walk on a beautiful empty beach, the bobcat, the fox, the Dungeness crab on our brunch table, the midday nap.

Either way, I figure it is worth writing down and saving.

Shifting Gears

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 17:55:00 +0000

Winter, 2011

So, we've officially entered winter. I hope you are enjoying it. It feels good over here.

I just walked up the hill with this mound of my favorite citrus, Rio Star grapefruits and satsumas. Stella Pastry is baking the panettone I will pick up this afternoon. I've learned that I will have a small plot for gardening this summer and my beloved Kitazawa Seed Co. catalog has arrived. I feel a shift.

All I need is a novel, one that is light, perhaps funny, but is still good. Does it exist? I don't want trash, unless it happens to be good trash, then please tell me about it. All I seem to adore in the literary world is the beautiful writing that almost inevitably involves an underlying sadness. I still love this work. I'll always love this work, but I need a small break, to shift gears for a brief period of time. Can you help?

I know most of you are busy with the holiday season and all, but if you have a moment and can think of anything old or new that might suit my mood, please offer your suggestion. Just type it in the comments section quickly, don't worry about typos or links, I'll figure it out.

Thank you, kind readers.

Living

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 16:55:00 +0000

The bus to Rodeo Beach, 2011

Rodeo Beach, 2011

He meant doing things not because we were expected to do them or had always done them or should do them but because we wanted to do them. He meant wanting. He meant living.

- Joan Didion The Year of Magical Thinking

New Traditions

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 18:40:00 +0000

Christmas Whale, 2011

We've added a small tree, clearly inspired by Charlie Brown, complete with felted acorn and papier-mâché whale, to our holiday spirit collection. I also made some cookies. Chris mistakenly bought a mint chocolate bar versus simple dark chocolate, so we just went with it. These cookies are so good and super simple. And almost gone.

Oatmeal Chocolate Mint Cookies
makes about 24 cookies

Preheat oven to 350°F and gather your ingredients.

1/4 pound (1 stick) softened butter
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 egg
3/4 cup white whole wheat flour (I use King Arthur)
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon fleurs de sel
1 1/2 cups whole grain oats
1 3/4 ounces (half 3.5 oz bar) dark mint chocolate bar rough cut into 1/2 inch pieces

In a medium bowl mix softened butter and sugar with a fork until creamy.

Add egg to butter and sugar and mix well.

Carefully pour flour, baking soda, and fleurs de sel on top of butter sugar egg mixture, without blending the dry ingredients into the wet.

Stir the flour mixture very gently as it sits atop the butter, sugar, egg mixture. The goal is to combine and evenly distribute the dry ingredients before mixing them into the wet ingredients (no need to wash a second bowl).

Combine flour mixture with butter, sugar, egg mixture, evenly distributing all ingredients.

Stir in oats.

Stir in chocolate pieces.

Place tablespoon size rounds of dough onto cookie sheet.

Bake for about 8 minutes and then keep a close eye on your cookies. You want them to just start to dry on top and be light brown on the bottom.

Cool on cookie sheet for a couple of minutes and move to wire rack.

They are really good warm.

Enjoy.

These cookies made me miss you, Marshall Field & Company. I miss your Christmas tree in your Walnut Room and your Frango Mint Chocolate Chip Cookies and your animated Christmas window displays on State Street. Those cold winter trips downtown I began adoring as a little girl just aren't the same without you. Thank you for the memories...

Marshall Field was famous for his slogan "Give the lady what she wants." A wise man.

It's like someone's pinched me.

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 03:08:00 +0000

Solo Trip, 2011

I cannot stop thinking about a sentence I read a few weeks ago.

"Women live longer than men because they really haven't been living."

It was something Diane Keaton's mother noted in one of her journals. She read it in a Tom Robbins novel.

I know it was fiction, so why am I so irked? All I keep thinking is what ridiculous crap.

when I truly pay attention

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 20:08:00 +0000

dust and cupcake, 2011

I thought I was a creator, but when I truly pay attention I realize I'm more of an archaeologist, simply digging to find what already exists, dusting it off, and looking at it in a new way.

One day I brought home a big fat red peony.

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 17:07:00 +0000

December, 2011

It's been good to me so far.

What's new with you?

Joan Didion Notes / 24:

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 15:49:00 +0000

Life, 2011

When I saw Joan Didion in conversation with Vendela Vida I was listening so intently I only made a few notes.

November 15, 2011

Joan Didion

24 - Her mother told her it was her favorite year.

24 - She reads a passage she has written about being a little girl and describing what her life will be like when she is 24. She is wearing a sable coat and dark sunglasses. She will be on the front steps of a South American public building. She will be getting a divorce.

24 - After her husband died she no longer felt 24 because he was the last person who'd known her when she was 24.

Some things just stay with you.

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 19:42:00 +0000

While getting dressed I thought of the conversation last night and how it exemplified the little pockets of beauty hidden throughout our lives, even beneath the heavy folds of sadness.

I made this photograph and wrote the accompanying words on November 16, 2011. Someone commented on it today, the first Monday in December 2011, and prompted me to return to it and study its contents. It has me thinking back to words that originally moved me in August 2003. Those words were first published in 1974, as part of a nonfiction narrative by Annie Dillard. You glimpse a few of those words in the photograph. I wrote briefly about the words in September 2009.

Some things just stay with you.

The world's spiritual geniuses seem to discover universally that the mind's muddy river, this ceaseless flow of trivia and trash, cannot be dammed, and that trying to dam it is a waste of effort that might lead to madness. Instead you must allow the muddy river to flow unheeded in the dim channels of consciousness; you raise your sights; you look along it, mildly, acknowledging its presence without interest and gazing beyond it into the realm of the real where subjects and objects act and rest purely, without utterance. "Launch into the deep," says Jacques Ellul, "and you shall see."

excerpt from Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard

Ten days ago...

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 19:58:00 +0000

Armeria maritima var. californica, 2011

transcribed from my Moleskine, shown above:

November 20, 2011
close to 7 AM

I am 44 years old today, officially in about an hour.

Again, my dreams were filled with wild cats.

The sky is a white tending toward a very light grey tending toward the lightest of blues. There was a little rain, but it has stopped, for now. The tree branches on the east side of the house wave, the branches on the west side are still.

The heat is filling the glass house, the sun is rising, and I sit here upon the Jetsons-style sofa taking it all in through transparent walls, documenting with sleepy hands and thought patterns.

Chris is asleep.

I believe I saw our grey owl again, but he disappeared into the trees before I could confirm.

The large moth was searching for light in the kitchen this morning while I poured my first glass of sparkling water. We've been drinking sparkling water exclusively because the orange-tinted tap water, although promised to be perfectly fine, does not appeal to us.

Yesterday Chris suggested I give the large moth a name so he would seem less menacing. He thought Bernard might work. I agreed. Bernard has now followed me into the living area. Last night Bernard was in my shower. I think he likes me.

The heater pauses and the cold sets in quickly.

This beautiful home was not constructed for heating efficiency. Understood. This is California. But there is quite a chill up here.

The local paper leads me to believe the National Park Service will reclaim this land, along with this glass tree house, in April of next year. What will the park service do with a glass studio perched on stilts, accessible by small tram? A meditation space for rangers?

I think I'll crawl back into bed.

The Jetsons

Another Me

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 18:07:00 +0000

@76-A, 2008

I'm missing her today...

photograph: Christopher Parsons

Are you preparing for Thanksgiving?

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 16:07:00 +0000

March of the West Marin Wild Turkeys, 2011

What will be on your Thanksgiving table this year? I'd love to know what you're up to today. I'm about to begin shopping. Yes, It is probably way too late, but just think of all of the excitement that will be buzzing around the farmers market, grocery store, and wine shop. I am making my lists and listening to Bob Dylan's Desire album. The song Black Diamond Bay is playing and I'm in a very good mood.

Wish me luck out there.

Dinner:
turkey breast (bone-in - hope I can find one...)*
gravy (toasting my flour this year)
stuffing (inspired by Mom's cornbread stuffing)
cranberry chutney (inspired by Nicole's recipe)
brussels sprouts (roasted w/ pancetta)
carrots (roasted)
pie (sweet potato - inspired by Joy the Baker's recipe - I'm going to try her no-roll pie crust too)
ice cream (vanilla)
whipping cream (a 2nd pie topping option?)
wine (red)

Shopping:
turkey breast - bone-in*
chicken stock - at least 6 cups
celery
onions x 2
apples x 2
cranberries - 4 cups (1 lb.)
ginger - fresh
raisins (seedless) - 1 cup
carrots - nice bunch
brussels sprouts
pancetta - just one thick slice
sweet potatoes x 2
cream cheese
evaporated milk - two 5 oz cans (1 1/4 cups evaporated milk)
eggs - 6pk.
ice cream - vanilla
whipping cream (maybe?)
wine - red

Did I mention this is dinner for two? Plus leftovers, of course.

updates:

12:35pm
Back from Ferry Plaza Farmers Market (special holiday market hours today). *Turkey legs at Golden Gate Meat Co. looked better than breast. Bought two giant legs, and a thick slice of their pancetta.
Also, found a beautiful Weck Globe Jar at Heath Ceramics for our chutney.

5:02pm
I did buy the whipping cream. Done.

habit

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Thu, 17 Nov 2011 22:35:00 +0000

Making Memories (this one in Brooklyn), 2011

I've been working on cultivating a few new habits lately, good habits, thanks to the blog named habit. Are you familiar with it? It's about making memories.

I want to tell you more about my experience with habit so far, but I'm so sleepy (yes, it is 3pm) and have too much else to do, so it's going to have to wait. Until then, you should head over and take a peek.

I'll be there along with a long list of others documenting special moments in their days. Each person in their own unique way. You'll find me on the posts dated November 14, 15, and 16.

I hope you are enjoying this autumn afternoon moving too quickly into evening, wherever you are.

Take care,
Denise

One foggy morning...

noreply@blogger.com (Denise | Chez Danisse) — Wed, 16 Nov 2011 20:25:00 +0000

Flowers and Fog, 2011

I woke remembering a good dream. I was attending a writers retreat and hanging out with Vendela Vida. She borrowed one of my spaghetti strapped tops to go out one night (Yes, I know...do writers go out at night while attending retreats? One might assume, no, they are too busy working or fretting about not working, but I haven't attended such a retreat, so I don't really know. For me, the act remains completely plausible). She liked my top. I felt a little starstruck, but played it cool and pretended it was no big deal.