Hunting the Wild Tomato

So I’m at the supermarket, grocery list in hand, ready to check off “1 can tomatoes,” and I’m going cross-eyed staring at the wall of canned tomatoes before me. Not only does this wall of shelves loom as high as I can reach, it’s also wider than my arm span. Whole tomatoes, diced tomatoes, petite diced, crushed, pureed, Italian spiced, Mexican spiced (mild, medium, hot), chili-ready, organic, non-organic. My mind starts to feel like mushed tomato.

Need I mention I hate to shop? Would I have felt different if I had lived in the the world of the Angelaeon Circle novels – roughly based on the ancient Mediterranean world? In much of ancient Italy, market day was every eighth day and was considered a special event. The children got out of school to go to market, and people washed and dressed for the occasion.

Sometimes townspeople gathered just inside or outside their town gate to form a common marketplace, especially if the town was on a well-traveled road and they could expect travelers to stop by. They might display their wares on a mat or cloth spread on the ground, or they might set up tent-like booths. Most small towns and village also had shops located at the front of the merchants’ houses – like the potter who lived in the back of his house and made and sold his pottery in a room at the front, which opened to the street. (These are not just ancient customs. In much of the world, marketplaces are still arranged in these ways.)

Larger cities might have shops in buildings or arcades in addition to the open area or plaza where people set up booths to sell everything from grain to baskets to sheep and goats. The goods offered depended on what the people of the area grew or made – unless the city was a major hub of commerce. In that case the market offered goods brought in by traders from other parts of the world. Money changers always had tables in these markets so you could trade your foreign money for coins of the region – for a price, of course.

In the larger markets, official inspectors strolled around keeping an eye on traders, making sure they used accurate weights and measurements. Haggling over price was expected, and these inspectors were ready to settle arguments about what a fair price was.

So the next time I go on the hunt for my wild tomato, I can at least be grateful that when I spy it camouflaged among the cans, I don’t have to argue over the price. On the other hand, I wouldn’t have seen tomatoes in an ancient Mediterranean marketplace. At the time, my precious tomato grew only in Central America.

Happy hunting!

Read Full Post »

Time in Drips and Shadows

Did you ever hear the story of the woman who lived in a house near the railroad tracks? In the middle of every night, the train whistled in the distance and then rumbled past her house. She was so accustomed to it, she slept through each night without waking. Until the night the train didn’t come. That night, at the hour the train normally passed, she sat straight up in bed and said, “What’s that?”

I remembered that story this week when the clock tower at the nearby university did not chime. For years the chime has played a portion of its bonging song every fifteen minutes, culminating in the entire melody on the hour (except during the night). When this first started, it was very irritating. Then I got used to it. I even started relying on it to let me know the hour. But . . . I do prefer the silence. I hope it stays this way.

Ancient people first measured time by the position of the sun in the sky, which was not too accurate since the hours of daylight and darkness change by the season. A character in one of Plautus’s plays used an ancient time-telling method. He says, “My belly is my sundial.”

Ancient Greeks and Romans measured time with public and private sundials. The central metal arm casts a shadow toward a numeral at the edge of a disk or half-bowl. But there were drawbacks with a sundial. An hour in the summer is longer than in winter because the day is longer. And if you lived far enough north (say, Viking country), the sun might not even set fully in the summer or rise fully in the winter.

The ancients also used water clocks, which were containers filled with water that dripped out a little at a time. The water level showed what time it was.

A day was divided into two “watches,” darkness and light, each measured by the position of the sun in the sky. The watch of light began at sunrise, the watch of night at sunset. The original writings of the Bible describe events happening “at the sixth hour” or “at the third hour.” If you start counting at six am, the sixth hour is noon and the third hour is nine in the morning.

In the Angelaeon Circle novels, characters usually estimate the time, sensing it by the position of the sun. In Eye of the Sword Trevin heads through the woods toward Redcliff, frustrated that he has to ride a slow donkey. Though he can’t see the position of the sun through the trees, he senses by the angle of light that he will be late for a banquet – one at which he is supposed to be the honored guest. He also accompanies Windweaver into the edges of time, where the flow is different.

We can slow the feel of the flow simply by sitting still for a few moments and being aware of the world around us. The present moment is where time touches eternity. So my wish for you this week is that in our modern, precisely counted rush of hours, you find a few moments to pause and enjoy the flow of time.

Read Full Post »

Creative Leap

What did you dream last night? I’m guessing that dreams are one of the most creative things we do. Our sleeping mind seems to let down its guard, and the muse has a party, dancing, painting, singing, riddling, connecting the shards of our fear and anger, our hope and joy into a stained glass window of dream. It’s a trick to coax the same muse to work in our waking hours, but as we let down our guard and give our muse practice, it gets easier. (As Anne Lamott says, “Don’t look at your feet . . . Just dance.”)

Now that I’ve given my muse permission to dance around for a paragraph, I’ll give my left brain its turn with the subject of creativity. According to the lead article in the summer newsletter of the Vermont College of Fine Arts, creativity has been viewed traditionally as a linear process: preparation, incubation, illumination, and implementation. But theorists now encourage us to think of creativity “as a continuous, cyclical process of observing, reflecting, and making.”

To enter the creative cycle, artists take a leap, not knowing whether they will succeed or fail. “Often we fly a bit, while other times we hit the pavement. Either way, it is our nature to leap again.”

The amazing thing is, every time we leap and land, we learn – even if we learn only what not to do next time. “If we stick with it,” the article says, “we begin to succeed more than we fail. With our successes, we become more comfortable with the risks. So we leap again – farther. New challenges lift us over our previous boundaries and limitations. We become more creative.”

Maybe I’m thinking about the creative cycle because mine is about to start all over again. I just got the proofed and copyedited version of Eye of the Sword for my stamp of approval. (It’s due out in March.) Meanwhile the acquisitions editor is presenting a proposal for books three and four in the Angelaeon Circle to the acquisitions committee for their approval (or rejection as the case may be). Plus, I just finished a rewrite of novel #3, and have begun to dip into the observations and reflections I’ve accumulated in preparation for the leap into writing novel #4. Creativity does indeed feel like a cycle to me.

So if you have creative aspirations, go for it. Observe, reflect – then take the leap. Here’s wishing you a fantastic landing!

Read Full Post »

Peacock and Sow’s Udder

Ah the delicacies you will be served at a rich man’s dinner party in the ancient Mediterranean world!  You’ll lie on a couch with your head near the table and eat with your right hand. (They believe eating or drinking upright will upset your whole body.) You may be glad you’re reclining once the dinner party goes into its fifth or sixth hour. But if conversation lags, you can always turn your attention to the music and dancers. Perhaps a poet will recite poetry, or a someone might make a speech or tell stories.

During the evening you’ll be served as much food as your host can afford. If you’re lucky (or unlucky depending on your tastes), your main course will be a treat, the best of the best: goose, pheasant, hare, fish such as lamprey or mullet, kid (a great delicacy), peacock, or the always popular wild boar and sow’s udders. I know your mouth is watering right now.

No feast was complete without its accompanying wine, though most guests will drink only lightly during the meal. What’s more, the wine will probably be mixed with water. (Sometimes it’s more water than wine.) But the water might be flavored with fruit or citrus for extra flavor.

In the Angelaeon Circle novels, characters often drink watered wine, and if the setting is regal, the water is fruited. As for feasting, the first few novels of the series show the world in the grips of a blight that diminishes harvests and affects the food supply. Though Trevin attends a royal banquet in Eye of the Sword, he is uneasy with the king’s decision to feast sumptuously while the rest of the kingdom lacks food.

So what’s on your menu tonight? I can guess what is not. But I wish for you what all people from ancient times through today have desired at dinner parties: good food, good drink, good company, and good conversation. Bon appetit!

Read Full Post »

One Meal a Day?

I recently heard that some health experts advise eating four or five small meals throughout the day as opposed to three larger meals. To someone who lived in the ancient world, this would have been strange advice. Even three meals a day would have seemed odd. Ancients might grab a piece of bread in the morning before they started their work day, and they might grab a snack midday. But most people ate only one main meal, a large one if they could afford it.

But even a large meal for most people did not include meat. Not because they were vegetarian, but because meat was expensive. Only well-to-do families could afford meat every day. Stew was a common meal (with meat if you were rich, without if you were poor). Meals in the Angelaeon Circle novels often center around stew and flatbread.

Flatbread served not only as food but as scoops. Even though spoons had been invented (and knives, but not forks), most people ate with their fingers. You sopped up juicy food and stews with bread. Otherwise, most foods were finger foods, which made for messy hands.

To clean your hands, you’d wash them in water and dry on a cloth, although in ancient Greece, you might clean your hands on a special paste. Jewish families considered it a sin not to wash hands before you ate. I’m sure other cultures also had the same thought. But because of finger foods, washing hands might also take place between courses.  Most likely a woman or girl of your family – or of the host’s family – would bring a jar and bowl to each person and pour water over your hands, which you would then dry on a cloth towel. If you were rich, the person who poured the water would be a slave, and the water might be perfumed.

I visited Kenya a few years ago, and the woman of the household brought around a bowl of water and towel for me and other guests before we ate. The man of the house ate an enormous amount at dinner, and I was told that he ate only one meal a day and even then, he was not certain when he would get his next full meal.

Interesting. Historically people expended twice as much physical energy as we do in a day and ate half as many meals. In some cultures, they still do. Ever wonder why we in the U.S. have weight issues?

Next blog – On the Menu: Peacock and Sow’s Udders

Read Full Post »

No Dark Chocolate?

I’ve been taste-testing different brands of dark chocolate, my go-to treat when I crave a sweet. So far Lindt 70% cocoa is my favorite. Runner up – at least for now – is Trader Joe’s dark Swiss chocolate bar. Each is premarked into squares, and I find one square completely satisfying. Usually.

If you were a time traveler headed into the ancient world and just couldn’t live without chocolate, the only location you could go to satisfy your craving would be Central America. That’s the only place the cacao bean grew. The ancient Mediterranean world did have carob, a distant match. Carob pods grow on an evergreen tree and contain a pulp that tastes like chocolate. One legend says that John the Baptist ate carob in the desert of ancient Palestine, so carob is sometimes called “St. John’s bread.”

There was no sugar in the ancient Mediterranean world either. So how did people satisfy a sweet tooth? Honey, dates, raisins, and grape syrup (much like our grape jelly but probably not as sweet). For celebrations they made honey cakes and other sweetened pastries. But dessert was most often fruit: figs, melons, apples, plums, pears, pomegranates. Some fruits were imported from neighboring lands, and all fresh fruits were eaten only when they were in season. To save fruit for later, you would dry it. In Breath of Angel, Trevin gives the priestess Melaia a dried apricot, a rare treat for someone of her status, and it becomes a significant symbol to both of them.

So when someone suggests a Mediterranean diet, think fruit for dessert. Sounds a lot healthier!

Read Full Post »

Salt, a Sprinkle of the Divine

When you crave a snack, do you want salty or sweet? In ancient times the sweet came from fruits and honey. Salt came from pure sun and pure sea, which – according to the Romans – made salt the purest element in the world. Greeks said salt was divine.

Of course, people in the ancient Mediterranean world used lots of different spices, including mustard, capers, cumin, mint, dill, garlic, rue, saffron, and coriander. Caravans brought in pepper from India, cinnamon from China and Ceylon. But some of the first caravan roads were created expressly for the transport of salt, considered one of the most valuable spices. Sometimes salt was traded in equal weight for gold, and salt occasionally served as money. In ancient China, some coins were made of salt, and at times in ancient Mediterranean lands, salt cakes were used as currency.

Salt not only seasoned and preserved food, but also helped keep heat in outdoor ovens, layered under the oven’s tile floor. After the oven had been used several times, the old salt would be thrown out onto the road and would be replaced with fresh salt.

While caravans are a basic part of life in Breath of Angel and play a greater role in the next novels in the Angelaeon Circle series, I haven’t yet worked in salt. But I’m thinking about it. Salt wars perhaps?

Meanwhile I’m smacking my lips. Anyone else ready for a salty snack? I’m thinking Wheat Thins. Or Tostitos Organic Blue Corn Chips, which I find totally addictive. Would they have passed for money in the ancient world?

Read Full Post »

Signal Fires, Trumpet Blasts, and a New Debut

In these days of tweets, Facebook, texting, and global news, it’s hard to imagine ancient times when most news never traveled farther than about 20 miles. You might never learn about events that happened a continent away, even if the event was an enemy invasion or an earthquake or a shipwreck. So when a traveler passed through town, everyone was eager to hear the news he brought (or she, but usually he).

Everyday news spread by people talking face to face. The local marketplace was a good place to hear news, as was the local well, where women shared news when they got together to draw water each day. Sometimes people shouted news from rooftop to rooftop. If a message traveled by word of mouth, it was said to be sent by “the bird’s wing.”

Of course, official government messengers traveled from town to town on business, carrying sealed scrolls or verbal messages, but they did not carry letters from common people. When commoners wanted to send a letter, they either hired a person for the job or sent the message with a friend journeying that direction. Talk about snail mail!

Urgent messages were often sent by signal. In battle, the captain might signal with pre-arranged trumpet blasts, some short, some long, which told their soldiers what to do. People might signal by holding up a particular flag or sword, perhaps holding it in a certain position. Sometimes the signal was a lighted torch on a tower or city wall, or a fire on a hilltop, or even smoke signals. In Book 3 of the Angelaeon Circle, Throat of the Night, Trevin and his allies wait to attack enemy warriors until they see a signal, a fiery arrow that arcs high overhead, trailing sparks into the night.

Fortunately for us, I can spread news instantly, far and wide. Today’s news: a debut middle-grade novel by fellow Elevensie, Sheela Chari has just been released. Congratulation, Sheela!

 ”Neela dreams of being a famous musician, performing for admiring crowds on her  traditional Indian stringed instrument, which is carved with a mysterious-looking dragon  and once belonged to her grandmother. When this family heirloom vanishes from a local  church, Neela is devastated. As she searches for it, strange clues and a legendary curse  point all the way to India, where it seems Neela’s instrument has a long history of  vanishing and reappearing.”

Sounds like a wonderful story! Spread the news!

Read Full Post »

Ancient Games You’ve Played

Hopscotch. Tag. Tug-of-war. Children have played these exact games for millennia. To be more accurate, not just children. Adults first played these games. Ancient Roman soldiers invented Hopscotch as a way to pass the time when they were bored guarding the long Roman roads in ancient Britain. Tag was a game of skill created to train hunters to spot and catch their prey. Tug-of-war began as a peaceful way to settle disputes.

Ancient people played board games, too. A game similar to our “checkers” used stones as game pieces. Checkerboard squares were drawn on stone, in dirt, or on wood. In Breath of Angel Melaia plays a simple game on a wooden board decorated with a carving of a tree. As she rolls the die and moves wooden figures of angels, something magical happens, which leads her to discover a fact that will change her life.

Target games were also popular in ancient times. Children dug a hole in the dirt, stood at a distance, and tried to toss stones into the hole. Or they rolled round stones at wooden or clay figures, trying to knock them down. Other games required shooting arrows or throwing stones from slingshots at targets. As with tag, these games provided serious practice with real weapons. Ancient people also raced each other and played blind-man’s bluff.

Another ancient game was like our “jacks” but used a leather ball and the knucklebones of sheep. In an early draft of Eye of the Sword Trevin, considering events and his feelings for Melaia, feels his heart is being tossed about  like a ball in a game of knucklebones. Unfortunately – or maybe fortunately – that particular thought got trimmed away and now lies on the cutting-room floor with other deleted scenes.

What about toys? In ancient times young children pulled carved toys, while older children spun tops and rolled hoops. Children also played simple musical instruments like drums, tambourines, rattles, and whistles, often making toys out of whatever materials they could find.

So the next time you see children playing hopscotch or tag, checkers or bowling (or when you play any of these yourself), think of the children and adults all around the world from ages past up to the present day who enjoyed these games just as we do. Some things truly never change.

Read Full Post »