Where Time Practically Stands Still

October 15, 2024

Beloved:

          I pick up my granddaughter at pre-school on Mondays.  Yesterday she was wearing classroom rainboots, and her own shoes were lost.  We searched for a solid twenty minutes.  At one point the entire class was hunting for them, and all the while one little guy was following me close as my own pant leg, chattering lost shoe scenarios in my ear.  What if a ghost flew away with her shoes?  What if they are on top of a car and we have to find a ladder to get them down?  What if they got in Bailey’s cage and she ate them?  (Bailey is the classroom rabbit.)  Between ideas he would shriek with delight at his own hilarity.  A teacher finally located the lost shoes outside in a playground wagon.  E. got changed and signed out for the day, like a worker clocking out, and we headed to the car, off to other adventures.
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          Time stands still in some places.  My kids attended preschool in that same school, that same room, that same teacher.  E.’s classmates look just like the kids that were there 23 years ago, two feet tall and the stock photo epitome of human diversity, right down to the chatty boy with the spiky black hair.  Only this is for real, a living community sharing space peacefully, helping each other when the need arises.  It’s busy but not chaotic, noisy but not loud.  Conflict is managed directly, clearly, wisely, gently, firmly.  Am I just now grasping Tolkien’s meaning of the Shire, that land of little souls where time also practically stands still?  Where snacks and naps are serious business, as serious as art and reading and caring for creatures even littler than themselves?  Seventy years gone by outside those walls has not corrupted the pace and wisdom still persisting within them.  What a privilege to pass through them again in this second half of life.  I pray to be a better student this time around.

          The light and air today are glorious.  I pray you get outside for a little while.

~ peace & prayers, 
pastor annette

* I’ll be on vacation next week, attending my favorite quilt retreat at the Presbyterian church camp in Brownstown, Indiana.

* The Recipe:  I made this last night, a final taste of summer as the tomatoes and herbs were the last from this year’s garden, my last jar of pesto from last summer, and eggs from a friend’s chickens.  I forgot to take a picture of mine; this one is from the paper, with tomatoes cut differently.

HEIRLOOM TOMATO TART
          Vallery Lomas, NYT Cooking
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Heirloom Tomato Tart; Vallery Lomas, NYT Cooking

Ingredients

• 1 store-bought pie crust (Jus-Rol is my favorite brand but I can’t always find it) rolled into an 11-inch round (I use my shallow tart pan)
  
• 1 ½ pounds (I had about 5 small-medium-sized) ripe tomatoes
  
• ¼ cup pesto, homemade or store-bought
  
• ¾ cup shredded mozzarella (I used parmesan since I already had it)
  
• 1 Tbsp fresh basil, finely chopped
  
• 1 Tbsp fresh oregano, finely chopped
  
• 3 large eggs (I used 5 small eggs and wish I’d used 6)
  
• ⅓ cup heavy cream (I used Greek yogurt since I already had it)
  
• ½ tsp kosher salt
  
• ½ tsp black pepper
  

Directions

• Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
  
• While oven preheats, wash and slice tomatoes.  Salt lightly and lay in a single layer in a colander or on a paper towel to drain out as much liquid as possible.
  
• Roll out the crust and lay it into a pie/tart plate, poking holes in it with a fork.  Line it with foil, adding dry beans or pie weights on top of the foil, if you have them, which I didn’t.
  
• Pre-bake the rolled-out crust for 20 minutes or until edges begin to brown.
  
• Remove crust from oven and remove foil.
  
• Set aside and make custard by beating together the eggs, cream, salt and pepper.
  
• Spread pesto on the crust, top with cheese and herbs, and then arrange the tomatoes in a single layer.  Pour custard on top of tomatoes, spreading well.
  
• Bake 30-35 minutes, or until set and beginning to brown.
  
• Cool 5 minutes before cutting.