The Interfaith Emergency Cot Shelter and Brisket

Last night's excursion would not normally be considered a destination for most visitors, but the Interfaith Emergency Homeless Shelter (often referred to as the Cot Shelter) on 43 Center Street in downtown Northampton is one of a number of emergency shelters available to those in need. My visit last night was my second one where I helped provide the evening meal to the night's residents.

It's not a glamorous place, located in the basement of an office building next to the police station. Last night we had twenty diners for our meal of corned beef brisket, macaroni and cheese, fruit, cheese and crackers, salad, bread, dessert, accompanied by milk, water, or apple cider. The dinner can be a bit potluck because different individuals bring the different parts of the meal. To make things even more random for the diners, each night's meal is the responsibility of a different group's members. Last night I was working as part of the League of Women Voters-Northampton Area, responsible for one night out of the month. We'd be unable to add any more days because there are no more open nights for us to give a meal. The first time I looked at the sign-in cards, back in January, I was amazed to see how many people in the area are eager to help out.

This shelter takes in the overflow of clients who are seeking shelter and services at another local shelter, the Grove Street Inn. Those who cannot be accommodated at the Grove Street Inn, and then the Cot Shelter, are asked to stay at a  shelter in Easthampton, the next town over. With only twenty spaces available at the Cot Shelter, it is not unusual to have people asked to check another shelter nearby. The Cot Shelter is available from November to April, the colder months when most people will be seeking shelter and hot meals. The night's diners are also resident for the night. 

For me, it was a chance to play restaurant again, as I once did on occasion back in the past. To be able to feed people is a great pleasure, and I will readily admit that when some of the diners came back for seconds, saying the meal was delicious, I was more than happy to help serve more to them. Not having to deal with the exchange of cash really helped, too, though replacing the choice attached to the financial power of paying is the lack of real choice in the meal.

Baked Corned Beef Brisket Ala Kevin the BBQguru
(http://www.food.com/recipe/baked-corned-beef-brisket-ala-kevin-the-bbqguru-361142)

The lack of choice in the meal did not stop some diners from making requests. Some didn't want salad; some didn't want brisket; some wanted bread without butter; some only wanted one piece of brisket. One man who approached the server was unsure about brisket, claiming that because he had been raised in the South, his mother always told him that white meat was better than red meat. To me the requests were generally run-of-the-mill, not signifying finicky behavior but rather the assertion of individuality that was threatened with annihilation in their current circumstances. 


For another member of our team last night, however, this was not the same view. We cook the meals at home, serve the meals, and then clean up in the kitchen. As we bused the trays, many of which were heartily cleaned off by hungry diners, one tray came back nearly uneaten. The team member in question criticized the unknown diner, talking about him/her as if he/she had been a naughty child refusing to eat what he/she had requested, in this case, in a somewhat more generous portion. Two of us stopped to let her know that we cannot know if someone didn't feel well, or if the meal didn't agree with him/her for whatever reason. "Everyone has a different preference," I asserted, to this team member's silence. She was unwilling to let go of her motherly bias, that this person was asking for a lot and then wasting it. But she was also unwilling to acknowledge that we're dealing with grown adults who may have had corned beef a number of times in the last week, because we had just celebrated Saint Patrick's Day. In fact, today at the Stop and Shop Supermarket, I saw an abundance of these corned beef briskets for sale, and was terribly tempted. But I know that I don't want to eat it all the time, either.

Yoga Sanctuary at Mid-Winter

We're supposed to be in the depths of winter, though we are lucky enough not to have the piles of snow that we had last year. The days aren't always sunny, and the warm air has yet to really settle down with us again. These are the days that create Vitamin D deficiencies in New Englanders. Luckily Florentina has a safe haven that has a kind of sunniness that warms up everything for the rest of the day. For the last six months or so, Yoga Sanctuary on the top floor of Thorne's Marketplace on Main Street, Northampton, has been this place for Florentina. 

Before moving to Florence, Florentina's yoga practice had fallen off. That's about five years of no yoga, after a number of years where yoga and long-distance biking had been really central to what made the world work. Now we're getting back to where mind and body are working together again in a great space with great teachers (such as Anna and Brandt) and classmates. This is where Florentina met her yoga buddy, Jeff, and through him, her sushi buddy, Lori.

Thorne's Marketplace.
First hour of parking is free.

A class in the big studio, painted with the colors of a mango.
(from Yoga Sanctuary's Facebook Page)

There is no photo available to show you how the individuals doing downward dog in the photo above would be facing a gigantic window looking across the street to old brick buildings and blue sky. In fact, this window is sometimes too bright during practice, threatening to blind Florentina while doing tree pose. 

Anusara yoga is the style practiced and promoted at Yoga Sanctuary. Its continual interest in alignment comes out in many ways. During the poses, physical alignment of body parts, muscles, and other anatomical details, receives detailed descriptions such that it's often incredible how much the teachers know about the body and its ability to make small adjustments with ease. There is also a kind of emotional alignment that happens, too, as practice causes the body work with the heart, and whatever is going on inside, so that those things can start to get sorted out. Bad habits of physical and emotional posture are involved every time.

The winter will be made shorter now that we are in possession of the Shri Card from Yoga Sanctuary. It's a swipe card that allows Florentina unlimited yoga for $99 per month. This could pay off; this summer it was possible to hit eight classes in a month's time, and that wasn't even a serious effort. 

The Snowy Path Less Taken

The covered bridge where all bicyclists
must dismount and Yaktrax are attached to boots.  

It's a moody day today, after a small snowfall last night.We have had two small snowfalls in the past week, and the inches of white stuff are adding up slowly, with an icy crust between some of them. (Think of Morbier cheese, with that layer of grapeleaf ash between the morning milk and the evening milk.) Today it was not only snowy but actually warm enough to take a long walk with the dog. Joey's dad and I took Joey out to Look Park where it appeared that few dogwalkers had made their appearance this morning. This is a popular spot for dogwalking and dogwatching, where you can make lots of new friends very quickly if you're a dog. Because I didn't quite trust the paved surfaces this morning, I tried to walk exclusively on the snowy sections. This proved quite easy, as I just followed Joey and his dad in the snow. Along the way I could see where the squirrels and rabbits had already tracked through the snow earlier in the morning.

The field was a huge sheet of untouched snow.

This photo is not upside down.

I was bundled up quite well, and even well padded because of my new red parka from Land's End. After many years of living in Wisconsin, I still love walking in the snow. But after slipping once, it was declared imperative to put on my Yaktrax. At the covered bridge we found a dry space where Joey's dad helped me pull them onto my winter boots, which already had very deep treads. But ice is nobody's friend, so it's always better to get some traction whenever possible, especially when the temperature is just warm enough to create a little melting of snow and ice. While this temperature is great if you want to get some ice skating practice, it's not so wonderful if you're just out for a walk. Here is a photo of my boots post-Yaktrax. 

Aaah...

Florentina, Flu Fighter and Knitter

Hi everyone, happy new year! Sorry I've been away, but there's a good reason. I hope you all were at least conscious for the holidays, as I was barely aware of them passing by. The flu had me in its grip, and just when it seemed to be loosening its hold, a ferocious sinus infection came along, happy to take advantage of an extra-lowered immune system. A round of antibiotics and some cough syrup laced with codeine help in these cases. Even with their help I'm only just coming back to the world. There are a number of things that I honestly don't remember from the last month because I was so ill and out of it. Even the fact it is a new year seems weird to me, as I didn't go through the normal passage of time, it seems. If we can count the passage of time in terms of boxes of Kleenex, then I might be better suited to recognize it's the new year.

A big part of bringing me back to the world has been my old hobby, knitting. I have been knitting since I was a little girl, and I don't even remember when I first learned it. All I know is that I practiced the two stitches for a long time, and put it away for years. In 2005, I came back to it again as a stress relief, and learned how to put a sweater together. Now I try to produce a sweater, a scarf, or a hat from time to time, so if you're in the market for a knitted item, let me know. I always wish I could be knitting for someone else, as I can't envision making all those knitted things for myself and filling a closet full of them --it seems a bit selfish. During my illness, I've been working on a couple of hats, and it's kept my brain functioning at some vaguely decent level.

Don't be fooled. It's a yarn paradise inside.

Northampton is a knitter's mecca in the Northeast because of Webs, America's Yarn Store. It's located in an unassuming place near the highway, and doesn't look like much from the outside, as seen on the left.

But when a knitter walks in the door, the yarn craziness descends. It's an explosion of color, which is especially welcome in the New England winter, and the salespeople are really very friendly. Unfortunately the lovely photo below doesn't show any of the salespeople who are always available to talk about yarn and knitting, as well as other related fiber crafts (weaving, spinning, crocheting, for example). I was greeted so nicely when I walked through the door yesterday, on my first day of decent health in about three weeks.

View from seating area (for non-yarn folks and dogs).

The yarn craziness usually pulls me into the warehouse in the back where bargains abound. Luckily I usually go into Webs with a specific project or need in hand, so I'm buying only enough to do that work. Otherwise I would be in really huge trouble in the warehouse (photo below), where some of the nicest yarns are sometimes discounted. Savvy shoppers keep their eyes on their twitter feed or their blog for more specials.

Hard core yarnage here. I have been known to lose it here.

A number of years ago, Florentina took her mom to a yarn store in Connecticut. This part of Connecticut where Florentina's mom still lives is rather wealthy, and the yarn store had her fuming. If you added up the cost of those fancy yarns, and the emotional cost of having to sit there with leisured women who don't have to work and stress out about their leisure time, a sweater would cost well over $200.00. Webs presents the sane alternative for a hobby that was originally meant to help cut costs, at least in my family. These days it also provides some comfort, as I can go in there with places where I'm stuck with my knitting, or just need to talk to someone about our love of knitting. I'm scheduled to take a class in sock knitting in April, and I can't wait!

Moshi Moshi...The Rice Bomb Here...

Moshi Moshi.
(Thanks to Sangsoo L. on Yelp.)

Heads up, El Señor: Last night I went to meet a new friend for sushi in downtown Northampton. Remember sushi? Vinegared rice with a tiny dab of wasabi strong enough to make you remember you have sinuses, and often paired with a piece of fish. Sometimes wrapped with a seaweed wrapper. Mmmmm. I haven't had sushi since moving to Massachusetts over a year ago, so I was terribly excited to be asked to have sushi here. Moshi Moshi (413/586-5865) is located at 4 Main Street in downtown Northampton, right near the railroad trestle.

Sam I Am. (Thanks to Anthony C. on Yelp.)

When I walked inside, the sushi bar faced me directly, and the sushi chef greeted me so warmly. Sam, or as he put it, Sam I Am, not only said hello, but he also has a gong that he'll use to announce your arrival. It's as if the party only begins when you get there! I must admit that it's been a really long time since I made it a habit to sit at a sushi bar when having sushi; San Francisco is now a long time back in my life, as is the sushi bar that I used to visit all the time. Well, it was back in San Francisco that I learned "moshi moshi" is a way to greet someone on the phone, so I thought it was really appropriate to have a sushi bar named this way.

Rice Bombs. The Bomb.
(Photo by Leigh Merriam on Moshi Moshi's Facebook page)

I was lucky enough to try a rice bomb, with its deep fried rice ball topped by a fish and sauce mixture. Tasty and able to satisfy my craving for something fried, as I had aced my cholesterol test the other day.  But Florentina's stomach was feeling a little high-maintenance, so most of the sushi tasting stayed with more sedate choices, such as the unagi roll (roasted eel), a salmon roll (it was one of the recommended fish choices of the evening), and the pickly oshinko roll (the sweet/sour radish that looks yellow). It was all delicious and just what I needed. I really must go back and have something more adventurous. I was a little envious of my dining partner's ability to eat more daring things, such as the spicy tuna roll. I had a little bit of that one, and figured out that it was definitely spicy enough to make the high-maintenance stomach cross over into cranky land.

One really cool feature of this sushi bar, pointed out to me by my sushi buddy when I sat down: regulars are rewarded with their own special chopsticks in their specially marked holders. They hang all over the sushi bar as badges of membership. It reminded me of all the beer boots hanging at the Essen Haus in Madison, Wisconsin. While I knew back then that I could never drink enough beer to merit a boot, I know for sure I can eat enough sushi to get a pair of chopsticks labeled "Florentina" hanging on the wall. I'm really looking forward to more from Moshi Moshi, including an exciting new website.

Many thanks to Lori, sushi buddy, for sharing the rice bombs and spicy tuna roll!

An Isabella Bird Bender in Northampton, MA

Isabella Bird (Unlocking the Archives, www.rgs.org)

 In my readings about Isabella Bird, I occasionally read the biographical material, and very rarely go near the religiously oriented things she wrote early in her career. As the Victorian British woman traveler best known to Americans for her jaunty narrative, A Lady's Life in the Rocky Mountains (first published by John Murray, 1879), the travel narratives naturally receive the most attention. Missionary work is hardly considered as exciting and feminist as what Bird was able to accomplish in her travels through Asia late in life. But yesterday, I found myself on a Bird bender. This is what it looked like:

• The Life of Isabella Bird (Mrs. Bishop), Anna Stoddart (1906)
• Six Months in the Sandwich Islands, Isabella Lucy Bird (1875)
• The Aspects of Religion in the United States of America, Isabella Lucy Bird (1859)

One online book, one hard copy, and one downloaded book all going at the same time. This collision is what enabled me to figure out that Bird had spent two months in Northampton, Massachusetts at a time when elm trees still lined New England streets, Smith College had yet to be founded, and the Jonathan Edwards fracas with his local Congregationalists was still relatively fresh in the collective memory. Well, the narrative about Hawaii was supposed to be my primary reading but I thought it might be interesting to see what Stoddart had to say about this trip. Stoddart's biography holds a special kind of fizz because she was a friend of Bird's. While we know that such relationships do not always bode well for biographical integrity and accuracy (see: Elizabeth Gaskell's biography on Charlotte Brontë for the foremost Victorian example), for this reserved woman Stoddart enables us to see more of the motivations and emotions than were expressed in writing.
   Stoddart writes about Bird's second trip to America, where her interest in religion was explored. Bird's father was a clergyman who had tried to cultivate Sabbatarian tendencies in his parishes, but found English parishioners averse to a complete day of rest. Stoddart's narrative includes a list of places visited, and I found this mysterious reference to a village in Western Massachusetts, where Bird stayed for two months. That's a long time to stay somewhere and not know the place name, I think.
   When looking into The Aspects of Religion, the New England section receives high praise from the daughter of the Sabbatarian minister. She writes glowingly about this idyllic village on a typical Sunday.

I take the loveliest village in that surpassingly fair portion of America. It is a village of 5,000 people, built on a collection of knolls, rising from park-like meadows, through which flow the bright waters of the Connecticut. (60)

That's a sizeable village, which Northampton would have been at this time, and the Connecticut River currently threatens to flood it from time to time. Bird goes on to name some other qualities that help mark the possibility of Northampton being this village:

First Churches of Northampton, UCC/ABC
from their Facebook page

The village itself consists of a collection of lanes shaded by avenues of gigantic weeping elms, and along these lanes are erected detached cottages, enbosomed in roses and vines. It dates from an early period of the seventeenth century, and some of those families are descended from those who landed at Plymouth Rock. There are five churches: two Congregational, one Episcopalian, one Baptist, and one Methodist. (60)

You can see some of these old churches and the lanes today, as they form part of downtown Northampton and Smith College campus. Settlements such as Northampton rose earlier in the colonial period because the Connecticut River allowed settlers to move north from Connecticut and Long Island Sound, so the early seventeenth century settlement period is not far fetched. The number of churches is actually small when we're told that these churches are all packed, from Bird's observation. "All the people are church-goers" (62) she claims, as well as the fact that this is not an unusual village but rather typical of New England.

  Bird's study of American religion is often forgotten, and it marks an interesting aspect of Bird's character. Her religious training and practice are not at all secondary to a better understanding of her character when we look at how missionary influences and Christian outreach marked her early life. The publication of this book, Aspects of Religion, also marks the death of Bird's father, Reverend Edward Bird. When we know that fact, the study seems to be a fitting tribute to a father who wanted his parishioners to have a dedicated day of rest, as Bird praises the New Englanders most of all for their continued adherence to this practice.