~ Back To the Grindstone ~

After having completed an arduous first semester of college, packing up my room, and experiencing every wrong thing that can occur to one in an airport (for which I am now called a “well-seasoned traveler” by family and friends), I was reunited with my family! For the first time in five months, I was able to hold my Dad's hand, hug my Mom whenever I wanted to, have conversations in my brothers' bedroom late into the night, and playing, for the first time (...in a long time), a well-tuned piano. The month break was worth every second. But despite this lengthy break, the day of packing my luggage, and saying goodbye to friends and family, arrived without even warning me. Before I knew it, I was in the family minivan with Mom and Dad in the front and myself in the back. After a twelve and a half hour journey through freezing rain, we arrived back on campus. We had a last meal together, Mom and Dad gave me their hugs and kisses and drove off, back to my beloved Mitten. I would be lying to you if I said that the second time your family leaves you is easier than the first, but it is not. Truth be told, at least for me, it is far worse. I did not cry when they left, but it is almost a week later since their leaving me and I am still hurting. What can I say? I am a homebody!

Alas, though, a new semester is here and I must face it. Keeping myself hydrated, getting enough hours of sleep, and studying, with, of course, small breaks to rejuvenate me, will make this semester far better than the first! In fact, I am confident it will. It is back to the 'ol grindstone for me. Wish me luck!

~ Maria  

Home has grown too.

It is harder than I thought, coming home. 

Fours months away provides a significant amount of space for growth. Space allows for the development of new habits and broadened horizons. Space allows for change, even when it is not sought out. College called me at the end of summer, and I left Wisconsin with every intention of remaining the same, of carrying Home with me, somehow, in my back pocket. Of course, that didn't quite happen. It slipped out of my grip while I was away, due to many adventures... Home. It blurred a little at College. School happened. Friends happened. A lack of sleep and good cell connection happened. Home. It always remained in my heart, a strong, clear melody, but just softer than before. I grew at College, and when I was away, Home grew too. 

It was no longer August when I returned from College. I discovered very quickly that Home didn't push 'pause' while I was away. Things just kept going, like me, I suppose. Summer was gone when I returned, lost in the hustle and bustle of the Christmas season. Snow was on the ground. Football season was in. The frosty hardwood floor nipped at my bare feet in the mornings. Home felt funny, jolted, like a movie that skipped several scenes ahead. College had been happening for the past few months, in vibrant colors and high-definition. College was so full, so real, I forgot that Home had been happening too. The change became very real as I stepped off of the plane and into the arms of my family. Home. The weather wasn't the only thing that changed. There were new picture frames on the wall, familiar faces but in new positions. The bathroom walls had been painted a new color. The puppy slept in a new spot on the couch. There were inside jokes that I didn't understand, performances that I had missed, names that I had never heard. 

Home smelled the same when I came back. It looked the same. It sounded the same. But it had grown; Home had changed... I guess experiencing this change is experiencing true homesickness. The pain of separation from Home is great, but the pain of missing out on the growth of Home is greater. This is a homesickness that hits very deep. The wound is one that heals, I think. And it was necessary wound, one that allowed me to grow in new ways.  

I have indeed grown at college. They say I laugh differently now. I have tried and liked a plethora of new foods. I have learned and studied. I have failed. I have succeeded. There are new names in the  stories that I tell, new faces in my memory, ones that I try and describe but can never quite capture with words. I like to wear different colors than before, and my hair is shorter. I know a little bit of guitar. I like to talk a little more. I have traversed the first six books of Euclid. I can conjugate a bit of Latin and have delved into the writings of philosophers like Plato and Plotinus and Ratzinger. I know myself a little better. My horizons are a little bigger. I too have grown. 

A return to Home has been good. I have a few weeks to be, to breathe, to rest. I try and catch up on the bits of Home that I have missed while away, and I try even harder to enjoy the bits of growth that I can experience in person. My family is very kind and tolerates all the selfish tendencies that arise when one is away at college. And I slowly readjust to family life again, normal hours of sleep, and proper nutrition. We spend much time together, talking, laughing, eating, and behind books (or Mac books)... Home. It is once again up close, vibrant, and in high definition. 

The embrace of home after a semester of College is bittersweet... Much has changed, and change is hard, I find. But the sweetness of Home is much stronger than any bitterness. And day-by-day, we, Home and I, continue to grow.   

Till next time,

Graci Rose 

Formal, Finals, and then... Home <3

Friday proved to be an exciting day for Freshmen at my college. That day, I had three classes: Euclid at 9:10 AM, Latin at 1:15 PM, followed by Humanities at 3:30 PM. At 4:30 PM, the teacher handed the class study guides for our final examination and we closed the meeting with a prayer.

My first semester as a college student was completed!

I do not think I have ever left a classroom so quickly... I think I sped walk, almost sprinting for the door. The knowledge of having completed the semester without crashing or burning in any of my classes made me feel like I could fly! I had made it!

This was just one exciting part of my week. There was more to come.

The next day was the Winter Formal. Every year, the weekend before finals, all students at the college gather at the Mansion in town (college code...) and swing dance the night away to a live Jazz band, with fruit, cheese and crackers , paired with either Merlot or delicious eggnog. Most come home as late as 2 AM. But, with finals around the corner, I chose to arrive back on campus early (early, as in 12:45 AM early) and get myself to bed so I could be invigorated for study!

Today is Sunday. Today is the third week of Advent. Today marks exactly three more days before my first exam: Latin. Today is also a joyful day because I know that in six days I will be boarding a plane to head home to my family. <3 Words cannot adequately describe the excitement I am feeling at the present moment. There is so much to do! Frantically studying, packing, planning, (...making sure I board the right flight). So much! My mind is spinning.

I know this week will go by super fast, but it will also be seemingly slow. Home is so close, but so far! When I first arrived on campus in August, December seemed so far away. Suddenly, BAM! December came, and I am close to wrapping up my first semester. It goes to show how accurate the old Latin saying really is: “tempus fugit!” Funny thing, though, despite home being so close, it seems the days are longer and time is not moving fast enough.

What can I do to make time move faster?

Game plan: study like crazy for finals. Kick punch finals in the face. Complete finals, ending the school year stronger than I came in. Then, go home.

Three days. Five finals. Six days until home. Can I do it? Betcha ya bottom dollar, I can and I will!

~Maria

And after Humanities ... home.

Thanksgiving break is just one week away. My flight is booked and the countdown to home has begun. It has been a while since I've been in Packer territory ... I am absolutely thrilled. 

My last class before the beginning of break is Humanities. It is the last class of the day, and I think, a great way to wrap things up. 

For a liberal arts student, Humanities is more than just the study of history. Through fantastic myths and legend, historical accounts and drama, poetry and philosophy, Humanities is the study of the whole person. It is the study of man's culture, his behavior, his nature, his desires, and the consequences of his actions throughout all time. Humanities is not just a static study of history; it is the living, breathing, examination of man.

The provoking content of any Humanities text teaches, challenges, and informs truths of the present with the language of the past. The words of a Greek Epic describe the fantastic journey of Odysseus told centuries ago and in doing so, awaken the legend's lifeblood within the veins of the reader. The sentiments presented by Homer in the story of Odysseus, by Plato in his Republic, by Sophocles in Oedipus Rex, they are relevant; they are sentiments already familiar to any 21st century human being; they are relatable, compelling, timeless. 

...

Break is going to be wonderful. A visit to Wisconsin will be ideal. And flying back with the latest discussion from Humanities still fresh on my mind...? Superb. 

Till next time, 

Graci 

Bread, bread, and more bread: The multiplication of the crusty artisan loaves

Years ago, before I was born, my Mom traveled to Europe. Being a lover of food and of different cultures, I always wondered what she ate when she was there. To my surprise, she told me that she ate... wait for it... bread! All the time! Bread! After hours of walking, she and my Dad would walk into a bakery, buy several loaves of bread, hop on a bus, and continue traveling. It was more “economical” my parents would tell me than to go eat at a restaurant. 

This past August, I found myself wandering the beautiful cities and mountains of Poland. Whenever I was not eating plates of Pierogi or Golabki, I thought of my mother, and I ate bread. Lots of it . Surprisingly, the bread tasted a lot like this bread. My Mom found this recipe years ago, and has been perfecting it ever since. It is quick, and easy, and it is simply wonderful! (Not to mention, total full-proof). Every time I eat a slice, I reminisce over my time back in Poland, bringing back lots of fond memories. 

Now a college student, I always seem to be hungry, and not just for knowledge. One rainy night, even though we had a paper due, we needed a break from writing. So I dragged Graci to the school's cafe, and we baked bread. We baked not just a loaf, not even two, but six loaves (for other students as well). Being the drill sergeant that I am, I made sure that everything was done precisely. Baking is a science, and I  have always treated it as such. I handled the water and the yeast mixture, and Graci was in charge of measuring the flour- 19 and ½ cups. There was improvising here and there, but the results were ever rewarding! I have never baked at this level before, but it was a hoot, and I cannot wait to do it again!

It is a favorite in my family, and you can have it with almost any dish. A personal favorite is my Dad's beef barley stew- always a treat with a slice of this bread on a chilly fall day!

Enjoy! 

Maria

                    

Crusty Artisan Bread      

                                        
1 1/2 tablespoons instant yeast OR two packets granulated yeast

1½ tablespoon kosher salt OR 2 teaspoons table salt

3 cups warm water

6 1/2 cups (32.5 ounces) unbleached, all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting dough

Dissolve yeast and salt in warm water in a large food container. Mix in flour all at once, stirring with a spatula until there are no dry patches. The dough will be very soft and sticky; not like a typical bread dough. Cover with a kitchen towel, plastic wrap or lid (not airtight).  

Allow to rise at room temperature until double in size, approximately two hours. Longer rising times, up to five hours, will not harm result. Cover dough and refrigerate.  Fully refrigerated dough, at least eight hours (it is less sticky and easier to work with, as a result). 

Let’s bake!

FIRST.....Heat oven to 450 degrees. Place a baking stone or overturned heavy-duty baking sheet on the middle oven rack. This is the surface on which the bread will bake. Place a broiler pan or metal cake pan on the lowest rack of the hot oven. This pan needs to get very hot.

SECOND.....Prepare pizza peel, flexible cutting board or shiny cardboard lid with flour; top the flour with cornmeal or Cream of Wheat. Surface must be liberally covered with flour for bread to slide off at baking time. This is where your bread will rest and you must have it ready before you touch your dough. 

THIRD.....Liberally flour hands. Liberally flour counter. Liberally flour dough surface in the container. Pull up and cut grapefruit-size piece of dough with a serrated knife and place on floured counter.

FOURTH.....Gently stretch the surface of the dough around to the bottom of all four sides, rotating the dough a quarter-turn.  Add flour as necessary to keep from sticking to hands but do not try to incorporate. The dough should have a smooth, cohesive cloak; don’t worry about the bottom.

FIFTH....Put shaped dough on floured pizza peel/or cutting board and let rest for 40 minutes.

SIXTH....When the dough is ready to bake, dust it with flour and cut ½” slashes across the top. Slide the dough from the pizza peel/or cutting board onto the back of the baking stone. Close oven. CAREFULLY pour a cup of very hot water into the broiler pan/cake pan and close oven door quickly. Bake for 30 minutes or so. Bread should be deep golden brown, charred at tips and firm to touch. Cool for at least an hour or two before slicing.

Some things just don't change

It is funny how some childhood pleasures never seem to fade. The simple novelty of the jingle from Wallace and Gromit, those peanut butter and jellies, or even, a pile of leaves -- these things are not limited by time or age, but continue to entertain throughout the years.

Campus was generously supplied with numerous piles of leaves over mid-semester break, and it did not take long for Maria and I to respond to their inviting presence. After some preliminary frolicking and leaf-throwing, we plopped ourselves quite comfortably in the center of a pile, and joined by other classmates, began to read.

The musty smell of leaves makes a lovely accompaniment to the thoughts of Martin Mosebach on the Liturgy, and as we read, the scents and textures of the leaves drew me back to my 8-year-old-self. Leaf piles were my favorite part of Autumn in my younger years, and even now, as a college student, I can honestly say that their status remains the same. Granted, the Graci of 10 years ago would not have sat down to read Mosebach or study Euclidean Geometry in a freshly raked pile of leaves... but she certainly would have enjoyed sitting in them just as much as the Graci of today.

Some things really don't change -- I can't imagine my appreciation for a nice pile of leaves ever lessening. And as the years progress, and we continue to appreciate the things of our childhood, we can compare these simple novelties with our present state of life, and look in amazement at how much we have really grown.

Wishing you a happy and leaf-filled Autumn!

Graci Rose 

breaking bread

And so our blog begins ...