The Joy of Stella

Jenise, how wonderful to be part of Stella's (and little Dick's) lives. They sound like gems. Thank you for giving us a little glimpse into the relationship you shared. I was truly touched by your entire post (and could smell the pancakes). So sorry for yours' and Bob's loss.

I no longer have the wherewithal to maintain my own starter reliably, but I have never had pancakes or waffles to match those sourdough versions for lightness and texture.

Me too re maintaining starters reliably. But I'm tempted to go rescue this one before it goes flat. Might have to then rush it to Albuquerque, though, so that Dr. Greenly can work his magic--I don't think I'd know how to save it, but he would.

You were reading my mind. If I could get hold of some of that starter, I'd try to nurse it back to health. And if I'm successful, I could dole it out to FLDGers who want it. What a great way to remember your friend and keep her memory alive.

Jenise, a moving remembrance. She does live on precisely because your words so clearly evoke an understanding of the person she was and what she meant to you.

[Jenise]

You were reading my mind. If I could get hold of some of that starter, I'd try to nurse it back to health. And if I'm successful, I could dole it out to FLDGers who want it. What a great way to remember your friend and keep her memory alive.

Really and truly? Let me call Dick and see what he knows. It's time for us to have a breakfast chat anyway.
....Okay, no one's fed it at all for five or six weeks, and I'm not going to get there until next week, but Dick's son is due there any minute and can do something, which is probably better than leaving it alone until next week. Tell me what to tell him to do, Larry.

Assuming it's in a container, just take out 1/2 or 1 cup of starter and replace it with an equal amount of flour and water. Stir it in, let it sit for a while and then put it back in the refrigerator.

For backup, take a TBS or two of the discarded starter and spread it out on a saucer. Let it dry thoroughly, loosely covered. Break it up and put it into a ziploc.

When it comes time to ship, we'll figure out what to do.

[Jenise]

Thanks Larry, I'll call Dick right now.

I must say I was expecting a review of a beer.

Great story but with a sad ending.

best

Warren

What a beautiful memorial, Jenise. Thank you for sharing.

Your honesty and depth of feeling shines through -- as a superb cook yourself, you are in a position to judge the importance of the cooking and the value of the cook -- and the skill to bring it all come to life.

Thank you very much, best, Bob

[Jenise]

Thanks Carrie, Christina, Warren, Bob and everybody for your kind words.

I just got off the phone with Rick, Stella and Dick's son, and gave him Larry's instructions for rescuing the starter. We'll see how it goes overnight, I'll report back.

And a little update on Dick: I've started calling him every morning to share a cup of coffee and some comments about the day's news because I'm sure that one of the times of day he misses Stella the most is the early hours in which they'd share a pot of coffee and two newspapers. This morning we had our longest talk yet (since neither of us ended up in tears for a change) and topics included long term illness, God's hand in that or the lack thereof, and microwaves because, as he explained with some pride, he got a new one yesterday.

They had a pretty ancient microwave that Stella, seduced by the idea of a modern mechanical miracle but too distrustful of all things modern to allow into the kitchen, kept in the laundry room where she used it once a day and once a day only at 5:30 pm on the dot to fix their daily bowl of popcorn. The new one is next to the sink where he can so much more easily get to it, and apparently it's so straightforward that even my little warrior can run it. "Jenise, I press 1, and it cooks for one minute. I press 2, and it cooks for two minutes! I never could figure out that damned machine of Stella's, but mine's perfect!" It's both a revelation and a relief to him, he confided, to realize that without Stella he won't literally starve to death.

And it's humbling for me to realize how little I understand about being 90 and feeling that helpless.

Wonderful story, Jenise. I'm sure Stella would be delighted to be remembered with so much affection.

What a loving and beautiful tribute. Thank you for sharing her with us.