Thoughts of the day

June 13, 2009

Hello to you all. It is no longer morning. I’ve been writing, meeting, planning, conversing, thinking, and, well, NOT finishing this note. Sorry.

The week was a good one. Filled with inspiration, both quietly small and quietly large. I met with two different folks to talk about writing. I appeared on the radio to talk, very candidly, about ovarian cancer. I heard Anna Quindlen, a gigantic presence in the world of writing, speak about her life. And I finished the video of my ride.

I’ve been really pondering the whole experience of this ride, as you know. The first question most people ask is, “Now What?” I’ve stuttered something in response, not very clearly at first, but now, increasingly, with a bit more conviction.

First I’ve been trying to just get home. This has been harder than I could have ever imagined. I did the ride. I came home. And all I could do was miss that whole experience. But I AM home and I WANT to be home and I don’t want to be living a life that is all about missing something that is not here. And finally I feel like I AM home.

It helps to be listening to so many people who say that a book would be a nice next step. I’ve been talking to and writing to people and a picture is beginning to emerge. An idea of how to take what I did and turn it into something else.

It helped, even though it was very hard, to talk openly on the radio. We are filled with subjects that people do not talk about. I, truthfully, would rather not be the one who steps out. Because stepping out means taking a big chance. Stepping out on a thin limb. That might break. And then where would I be? But in the days after the broadcast I heard from a number of listeners who thanked me and told me I’d done well. Which made me feel that the stepping out on that thin limb was a good thing.

It helped to hear Anna Quindlen. She’s one of my writing heroes. Her clear, honest, straightforward writing has always caught my attention. I got to meet her, briefly, and share, briefly, my ride story, especially that I did the ride to raise awareness for ovarian cancer. Her mother died of it and that made me feel a special closeness with her, even if she had no idea who I was. Thinking about that connection and about the poignancy of it all completely overcame me as I listened to her. And that powerful emotional response pushes me ahead, pushes me to continue trying to figure out my own “What’s next?”

It helps, finally, to have this video done. I am excited about being the closing speaker at a national conference. It’s a big subject, this ovarian cancer one. I spoke for two minutes at a dinner for these folks in February. Now I get a half hour, give or take. I’ll finish my time with this video. It’s upbeat but it conveys the “don’t give up” feeling that was the big message for me on this ride. I’ve watched it a whole lot and I still like it and that is a fine thing. John Warner is the fellow who took my wishes and turned them into this finished piece. After the showing in Washington I’ll make it possible for you to see it too.

One more thing about being home. I loved the dinner with the farmers the other night. I love being part of the connection with them. I am deeply honored to have anything to do with making this sort of a difference. And no matter what, no matter how tough things are, these folks are caring for our Earth in a big way. And we get to be a part of that thin, Golden Thread of keeping things going.

Which is the most important thing of all.

Thoughts of the day

June 6, 2009

Good morning. What a gorgeous day it is here. Light, crisp-ish, all-around pleasant and great. It rained yesterday, conveniently waiting until the dark set in, and all today is moist and rich.

I visited the markets first thing today to check in and see what was around. I love the markets. When I first went to France I planned my trip to coincide with each town’s market day. When I talked about it, many people knew exactly why I had done that. There is a draw to a market. I’m usually there way before the regular customers which enables me to visit with the farmers and to browse around as they set things up.

We’re in the midst of a busy day here and that’s a nice thing too. Lots of chirping and smiling in the kitchen, in the shop. Makes me chirp and smile too. We had a group here in our Garden Room last night, a college reunion. They had been accustomed to going to a country club when they’d met in other cities. This intimate atmosphere suited them perfectly and the “post party report” had nice comments. “Loved the food! Loved the space! Perfect party!” Nice to see.

The café has some breakfasters right now too. Again, nice for me. This is such a lovely space. I just went out and opened up the windows and the sun is pouring in, a bit of a breeze is poking through, and all is good.

My bees are buzzing along at home. This is a good year for honey, I think. So far, so good. All the beekeepers in the area are happy to have a good, strong “honey flow.” This means that things are blooming, mostly tulip poplar around my house. The bees are busy, building honeycomb, making honey, storing up for later. Last year we had a big drought. So far this year things look good. And, if all goes this well, I’ll have my honey for you by the end of the season. Isn’t that sweet?

Putting the markets and the farms and the farmers together with you is one of my main interests. I like being the connector in these things. I think we’ll do three of these dinners this summer, since there are so many farmers, so many that we work with, so many who I want you to meet. This one coming up on Thursday will be the first (we still have room – call us at 252-1500). Please save July 16 for us. And then we’ll pick a date in August too. What a great thing, meeting new people, sharing dinner made with local food, and supporting our local farm economy. It is essential, don’t you think?

I think there is a certain amount of breath-holding in the world these days. But breathing is what keeps us all alive. Back in 2001 we had one of our Delicious Expeditions to Tuscany scheduled for September 23. After the horror of the 11th, our guests were concerned and some wanted to stay home. But I felt determined go, to stick with the plan, to do what, at the time, seemed the most patriotic thing possible, which was getting on a plane and flying. Everyone went and everyone had a fine time and the folks in Italy were so gracious and loving and grateful, not to mention sad for what had happened.
Getting out, sharing conversation, sharing meals, sharing life and breath and love is really what it is all about, I think. I know I feel better when I do. And I don’t think I’m the only one. So thanks for getting yourself out too. Thanks for including me and us. And thanks for bringing that breathing, loving spirit to us. In it comes, out it goes. Life. Love.

On being home after a "big deal" ride

May 23, 2009

Hiya,

A quiet morning here in Asheville. Well, sort of. We had a big night last night with parties. Today we’re preparing some picnics and some lunches and some more parties, not to mention filling our deli case with local deliciousness. Some early risers are here having breakfast. Some lunch wanderers are beginning to find their way in. It looks like it might rain a bit later which will be fine. The gardens at home are filled with new seeds, new plants, new promise. Rain is a good thing.

I realized today that I have now been done with the bike ride for one whole month. Amazing. When I was on it, it felt like it would never end. In a good way. I loved the long days of nothing but riding. Now, home, I am putting my life back together, remembering things that are good here, imagining how to put that experience into this one. It’s a tricky thing, going away and doing something big and then coming home and trying to get re-centered.

One fun thing is to get up early and go to the markets. Ours are loaded with promise. Loaded with parts. Loaded with things made with love, grown with love. I’ve been wandering around talking to my friends who farm, inviting them to come here to share their thoughts on why they do what they do. I mean, farming is not the very most lucrative way to have a life. So what keeps them going? What fills them? I find this the most interesting thing – learning a bit more about these folks. We’ll have someone who is a biodynamic farmer. Someone who is a part-time farmer and part-time carpenter. Others will come too. I’m excited. June 11th. Come join us, won’t you?

I like having things to look forward to. I think this was a big mistake I made with this ride. I forgot that it would end and that I would have to find new things to do, new projects, new inspirations. Imagine forgetting that? Ah well. So now, filled with the promise in my garden beds and the bustling markets and even in my bee hives, I am letting it soak in and am rediscovering the inspiration. Our dinner is all about that.

I guess it has been okay to have been fairly open about all of this. A part of me scolds myself and says, “Oh get OVER it. You did a bike ride. Big deal. It’s done. You’re home. Enough already.” But I’ve also heard from enough people to know that this roughness is something that happens to others too and so perhaps by being open to this time I will learn more AND you might too. Or maybe it is just a good thing to know that you are not the only one experiencing a hard time. When I was recovering from my second round of cancer, twenty-one years ago next week, it was enormously helpful to me and to others to talk about what I was going through. Emotionally going through.

So there you have it. If you want to read more you can always visit the ride blog. I’m writing a bit more there. And as I move along through this time, I’m trying to be pretty open about it all. I do know it is nice to see a big blue pot filled with flowers. That I really know for sure.

I’ll be in touch next week.
Until then, come see me for some food made with love. Some “joy on a plate.”
Laurey

Home

Hi there,

May 9th. Saturday. Beautiful spring day. Kitchen’s a bustle. Life is good.

This is my last week as a 54 year old. It has been a spectacular year, all things considered. A year ago I was about to take myself on a one week bike ride on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, my first trip to that spot. I was not sure I could do the ride in any degree of comfort. I was coming off a heartbreak and needed some healing and some distance. The ride seemed like a good thing to do.

It was.

A week after I came home I got a note from the ride organizers mentioning a ride across the United States for this spring. I said, out loud, “I’d like to do that.” And Emily, my office manager, said, out loud. "I think you should.” So it began.

Here now, a year later, I have done it. Ridden my bicycle across the country. At the moment I have a tweaked back which makes it especially hard to believe that I did this ride. But I have a bunch of pictures to look at and a bunch of people to write to and a bunch of newspaper clippings and I KNOW it happened. Somehow it happened.

I think it is important to keep a vision, to keep a dream, to state things out loud. To write things down and look at them and know, somehow know, that things will, can, do happen. Unimaginable things. Really. I know this. You can trust me. I do.

And it also is understandable to be home and to be wondering how to put that into this. I saw a guide yesterday who talked about relaxing and letting go and not trying to push anything into anyplace. Just let go, trust. Keep trusting. Keep imagining, though that is not necessary, really.

And a couple of things have happened that make me sit up and take notice. The café is busy. The staff is making really good food. The people who come here are coming, coming, coming in. Yesterday someone said, “Whenever I have something important, really important to do, I come to Laurey’s first. I eat, filling my body and my soul. And then I go do that thing. It is the way I start to do everything that is really important to me.”

And this morning someone picked up a bite of her quiche and said to me, “This is Joy on a plate.”

So those are good things. This is a fine place. I am incredibly lucky to have this as the place to come home to. I’m a part of something bigger than me here. And that is a very good thing. Going away. Coming home. Putting the two together. Creating a vision. Living it. It’s head spinning. And I’m happy to be home.

Oh – I turn 55 this week. Double Nickel. Another auspicious number. Another opportunity. Whoo whee! Whoa. Hold on. Here we go.

The lastest on the bike adventure

February 21, 2009

Gee whiz.

My bike has gone. Packing has started. It’s time for lists and final preparations and checking and cross checking. I leave on a day or two more than one week – March 3rd.

REALLY???!!!

I started pulling out all my bike clothes the other day, making piles on the window seat in my bedroom. My cat and dog spend time up on that window seat during the day, so when I came home, I found all my tidy stacks scattered all over the floor. SOME people are not happy with this activity.

There is a lot to think about with this ride. Getting in shape, for one. And I have overdone it and have had to actually pull back. But all the people who have been helping me train think I’ll be fine so I’m trying to settle into believing them.

Getting the final bits of equipment has been fun and methodical. I bought new Kevlar tires the other day. Hopefully they will be impervious to cactus spikes and broken glass. I have a new tube of sunscreen, and extra pair of bike shorts, new socks, new rain pants, new stuff. I feel like a kid on the first day of school, eager to try all those things I’ve been carrying around in my new pencil box. I do have a new pencil box, but it will not be going on the trip. My new handlebar bag WILL be going and in it will be my camera and all my little good luck charms.

Taking care of things here at work has been good. There is a fabulous team in place here. Emily and Adam and Jaime and Chris lead the office, shop, catering, and kitchen teams. And those teams all have great folks, cooks, servers, sweet people. Nothing will be different here at all – all the same people will be doing all the same things. Don’t stop coming! Don’t stop planning parties, lunches, breakfasts. We need you and this gang is ready to take care of you. (and if you ask, they’ll point to the map and tell you where I am and what’s going on.)

I’ve been learning how to do remote hookups with my little portable computer. I’ll be updating my blog (http://www.laureybikes.blogspot.com) on a regular basis and will also continue to send in my once-a-week notes to you right here. I now have a Facebook page too, (I am SO with it!) so if you want to be Facebook friends, feel free.

But I haven’t really had the “mom’s going to be gone for two months” conversation with the little furry friends. Emma, who works here, is going to take care of them and my house. She’ll take them for walks, well, not the cat, and they’ll be fine. I’m the one who gets chocked up thinking about my days without them. We have quite a little pattern these days and I will miss them very much.

I’ve been cleaning up my gardens and I know that when I get back the Iris will be up and the dogwoods will be in bloom and my yard will be lovely. That’s exciting. And my friend Gail is going to come and do some gardening work – making a nice compost pile, digging around in the dirt. It’ll be nice to come home to her and that.

My bees, I’m afraid, might not have made it. There is SO much to learn. Time will tell. I’ll know how things went once I get home. I might need to start all over again with new bees. We’ll see.

My sister is gong to help keep up with my bill paying and will start my car a couple of times. And by the end of this week I’ll be caught up with my desk, having balanced my accounts, arranged for my taxes, filled my prescriptions, changed all the batteries, done the final laundry and vacuuming. There is a lot to do to go away for two months.

I’m very excited. Excited about what I’ll see, who I’ll meet, what will happen. Thank you for sharing this adventure with me. And thank to everyone who helps make Laurey’s what it is. I could NOT do it without them.

I’ll send one more note from here next week.

Until then – cheers,
Laurey

Finally - Sunday Breakfast

Laurey’s is delighted to announce that we are now serving Sunday Breakfast.

We’re open from 9 until 2 on Sundays*

Made to order breakfasts:
French Toast
Omelets – you pick the ingredients
Local Eggs (any style)
Stone ground Grits and Gravy
Laurey’s own Blueberry Jam too
AND
Muffins
Scones, Biscuits
Breakfast Burritos
Quiche

All made right here.

Casual, gourmet comfort food.

Laurey’s
67 Biltmore Avenue
Asheville, NC 28801

828-252-1500
www.laureysyum.com

•we also serve breakfast every other day, but the Sunday thing is new!

See you soon!

Laurey
(and the gang)

A note from January 31, 2009

January 31, 2009

Hi hi hi!

Today is a great day. The chill is leaving. Yesterday’s freeze is melting away. Tomorrow it is supposed to be in the high 50s. NICE! This morning I could see light behind the trees as soon as my alarm went off. I love the light. I love the return to longer days. I love the promise of spring.

Tomorrow I am driving to Washington, DC to speak at a big fundraising dinner. A big group of women chefs is gathering to make their specialties for an audience of some couple of hundred guests. This event is a fundraiser for the Ovarian Cancer National Alliance – the primary beneficiary of my upcoming cross country bike ride. I’ve been invited to speak (for 2 minutes!!). I’m taking my bike and I’m excited.

Two minutes isn’t a long time, but still, I’m thrilled to do this initial speaking engagement. Pretty soon I’ll be riding across the country, meeting people all along the way. This message, the message about paying attention to your body, is a good one. Early detection can be a life saver. It was for me.

Next Thursday, the 5th, we are going to host a very important event. Lance Armstrong is starting a series of conversations – all over the world – about cancer. He is in Australia right now, kicking off this initiative, getting people to talk about the affect cancer has had on their lives. In September there is going to be a big summit in Ottawa where the results of these global conversations will be collected. Lance and this movement will hopefully make a worldwide difference in this terrible disease. The conversation here on the 5th will be the very first one of these in the entire Untied States. If you’d like to come share your thoughts and concerns (on the 5th from 5 – 7pm), register via e-mail with Mary Hill, the event organizer (maryh@c2cc.ca).

In other news – well, things seem to be cranking up. Though I’m trying to stay focused on every day’s tasks, I find myself drifting off to bike ride, bike ride, bike ride things. The other day someone asked, “So, are you going to be MORE tired or more ENERGIZED at the end of the ride?” who knows? I certainly don’t. I CAN say that I find myself quivering with excitement. I CAN say that my body is whipping through soreness and feelings of invincibility and the sense that this is absolutely impossible – sometimes in the span of a few minutes. I look around my house, my car, my office, my town, and wonder how it’s all going to be. Wonder wonder wonder.

So there I go again. And I still have a desk of assignments: menus to write, an article to do, my checkbook to balance, advertising to plan, on it goes. Then it will be time to go home, walk the dog, and try to settle down enough for sleep. Tomorrow it will be one day closer. And tomorrow we’ll start serving breakfast and then it’ll be time to go watch the Superbowl with my sweet friends and then it’ll be time to go to Washington and then it’ll be time for…

I’ll be in touch next week.