Carie Juettner

Empty Bowls, Full Hearts

This past Sunday, I stood in line for over an hour in the sunny November heat (ah, Texas weather, you fickle beast) waiting for a bowl of soup. But, although the soup was quite tasty, it was the bowl, and the reason behind the bowl’s existence, that I was more excited about.

If you live near Austin and have never participated in the Austin Empty Bowl Project, you really should. Every year, thousands of hand-painted bowls of all shapes and sizes are donated to AEBP and sold on the Sunday before Thanksgiving. The people who make the bowls come in all shapes and sizes too. Some are made by children and scout troops while others are painted by college students and local artists. There are even a few celebrity bowls that are auctioned off for big bucks. All proceeds from the event benefit the Capital Area Food Bank’s Kids Cafe and Meals for Kids programs.

Bowl signed by Cary Elwes in the silent auction

The Austin Empty Bowl Project has been going on for seventeen years. It was founded in 1997 by Kit Adams, the owner of Clay Ways on Burnet Road. The event quickly outgrew the little pottery studio and, like everything in Austin, has become larger every year. These days, it’s conducted in true Austin style with live music both indoors and outside, gourmet soups donated from local restaurants, and tons of friendly volunteers, many of whom you’ll recognize from the local news. Dennis de la Peña from MyFoxAustin handed me my program today and chatted to my friend about the Cowboys before moving on down the line with a big smile on his face. Although AEBP is bigger than ever and has changed locations a few times, the mission is still the same: to raise money and awareness in the fight against hunger.

You may be thinking, Thousands of people? In line for soup? Doesn’t that take a while? It does. This is not a quick event. Don’t think you can pop down there, grab a bowl and be back home in an hour. Some people see the line and decide not to stay because it’s too long of a wait. But for me, the wait is part of the experience. Never in my life have I been at risk of going hungry. When I wait an hour for food, it’s by choice because I’m craving a particular treat or favorite locale. There’s always another restaurant I could go to or a grocery store nearby or simply back home to my own kitchen where I have more than enough healthy food (and plenty of the unhealthy kind too). But there are a lot of people—a lot of families and a lot of children—right here in our own community who don’t have those options. Once a year, I stand in line for over an hour to get a serving of soup, and I’m happy to do it. I love my beautiful hand-painted bowls, but I try not to ever lose sight of what the Austin Empty Bowl Project is really about.

From the program: “The bowl is yours to keep as a reminder of those whose bowls are empty.”

This Thanksgiving, be grateful for all that you have, and if, like me, you have more than enough, consider giving a little back. The Austin Empty Bowl Project is over for this year, but you can still donate to the Capital Area Food Bank.

[There are multiple ways to participate in AEBP. You can paint a bowl, volunteer, or just enjoy a day of choosing the perfect pottery and eating some delicious soup! And if you’re kicking yourself for missing this unique Austin event, then LIKE the Austin Empty Bowl Project on Facebook so you won’t forget next year!]

Balanced Rock, Big Bend National Park

Today feels like a good day for a poem.

I wrote “Balanced Rock, Big Bend National Park” after my first trip to Big Bend in March of 2011. In November of 2013, I was visiting the park for the second time when I received word that my poem had won first place in the Poetry Society of Texas‘ Derry Tutt Memorial Award. Both the honor and the coincidence brought me great joy. The poem was published in PST’s A Book of the Year 2014, and now I’d like to share it with you here.

Balanced Rock, Big Bend National Park

Light lays down
on the outcropping of stone
vertical peaks rise smaller, smaller
suggesting skeletons—
desert dragons sleeping beneath the surface.

Twilight creeps up from behind
drops the temperature
like it was an accident
nudges thoughts to posted warnings
moves mind from buried beasts
to live ones.

Hiking down is never the same—
shadows alter landscapes
scoot boulders, shift footpaths.
Shoe slips on loose gravel
dislodging composure.
Two buzzards perch on cliff edge
for mood.

Dusk in my eyes
a rock clutched tight in my fist
step, listen
step, listen
wonder if the mountain lions
are hungry.

The Case of the Missing Pumpkins

I realize that Halloween is over. (Sigh.) And I totally get that it’s November now. (Double sigh.) And I really am done (mostly) posting October-themed pieces. This is something different, I swear.

This is a mystery. And I need YOU to help me solve it.

This weekend when I was packing up all my Halloween decorations, including the haunted bird house that my dad made for me, I remembered another homemade Halloweeny gift he gave me many years ago and the tragic fate which befell it.

Here are the facts.

For my birthday in 2003, my dad gave me the homemade Halloween decoration pictured above. It was a large piece of wood that he carved and painted to look like three jack-o-lanterns and one tombstone. The tombstone was for my cat Gink, who was then and still is now very much alive. (If you’ve read my previous post about Halloween decorating tips, you know that my dad makes homemade, personalized tombstones for every member of the family, as well as several more with made-up names or the names of the guests who attend our annual Halloween party. It’s all in good fun. However, seeing my sweet kitty cat’s name on one was walking a fine line between good fun and not funny at all, and I suggested that maybe in the future he not kill off my beloved pets on my birthday gifts.) ANYWAY, to get back to the point, despite the suggestion of Gink’s demise, I still really loved my gift. For the next five years, I used it to decorate my home during October.

But on October 29, 2008, someone stole it. 😦 I was living in Austin’s Rosedale neighborhood at the time, near 45th Street and Ramsey Avenue. Halloween was also on a Friday that year. Two days before, I carved a pumpkin and put it on my front porch. My yard was already decorated with my dad’s work of art and a couple of my own homemade tombstones and some skulls and such. The next morning when I left for work, my pumpkin was gone, along with most of my decorations, including the one my dad made for me. I found out later that several houses in the neighborhood were hit, and since there were no pumpkins smashed in the street, I assumed the thieves were stealing our things to decorate for their own party.

It hurts to have anything stolen from you, even a pumpkin. But I was especially upset that the thieves took the decoration from my dad. It was a birthday gift and it was homemade and it was absolutely one of a kind. I mean, it had my cat’s name on it, for crying out loud.

The weekend after Halloween I drove around a little bit, mainly near the UT campus and the frat houses I knew of, seeing if I could spot it in a yard somewhere, but I didn’t. I gave up on it, assuming I’d never see it again. And I probably won’t.

But today, as I was packing up my Halloween stuff, I started to wonder what ever happened to that thing. Maybe it got tossed in a dumpster after the party, which would be sad. But maybe somebody recognized what a cool thing it was and decided to keep it. Or maybe they gave it to Goodwill. Who knows?

A little over a year ago, I decided to use my blog to track down the woman whose student ID I found in 1996, and within twenty-four hours, we were Facebook friends. So… I’m trying it again. Friends in the interwebs, help me solve The Case of the Missing Pumpkins. I’ll make the same deal I made when I was searching for Amy Spear. If you give me any information that helps me find my dad’s gift, I’ll bake you some cookies. And they’ll be yummy. And to the person who stole my birthday gift in the first place, if you still have it please give it back. I’d be lying if I said, “no questions asked.” Honestly, I have a LOT of questions. But if you return my decoration to me or at least tell me what happened to it, I promise I won’t turn you over to the police.

If you have any information about the missing pumpkins, please share it in the comments or email me at cariejuettner@gmail.com. If not, consider sharing this blog post or the flyer below on your own blog, Twitter feed, or Facebook page. Maybe, with your help, the pumpkins can find their way home.