Wild Domesticity

Home Grown Christmas

2011-12-11T21:21:00.001-08:00

Real peace comes from being quiet and realizing we are loved.

It seems that a lot of people I know are abandoning certain aspects of the modern Christmas celebration. I've noticed a lot more people simplifying their Christmas traditions and searching for more meaningful ones.

This year, I've tried to fully embrace the Advent season. One thing that I have learned to love is that Advent is a time to reflect on our relationship with God and with each other. It is about silence, not noise. It is about people, not things.

This made sense in an earlier times. For an agricultural society, all of the harvest was in from the fields. The work was done. In many places cold weather sets in. They found themselves called back home. It was the perfect time to nourish their relationships with God and with each other.

It makes sense to me now that I am leading a more home centered life. We still give gifts. Simple ones. Most of our gifts are homemade. I enjoy making gifts, because it gives me an opportunity to think about the recipient and spend some time thinking about my relationship with them. And working on these little projects also gives me plenty of time for prayer and reflection. December is perfect for this. I am staring straight into the eyes of a long winter. I want nothing more then to stoke the home fires and sit with the ones I love.

St. Nick

2011-12-07T19:59:00.001-08:00

I spotted a wooden horse among my some toys that belonged to some friends. I asked their daughter where she got it and she pointed to a man I did not know. He was sitting alone carving some wood. I went over and I told him what a lovely horse it was. He said he was a new grandpa and he wanted to practice so he could make toys for his grandchild. I told him my daughter would like to have one. He said he would just make her one, no charge. I told him that wasn't fair. If he was going to take the time to carve it he should be payed. He said no. He asked for my address.

It was Autumn at the time. Months passed and I sort of forgot about the little wooden horse. December came around and we got a package in the mail. Inside was two wooden horses, one carved in dark wood, the other light. They had two little brown eyes and tails made of twine. They were wonderful. I contacted him and asked him what I owed him for postage. He said nothing and he wished us a Merry Christmas.
We weren't planning on doing Santa Clause with my daughter. I wanted to keep Christmas a holy day. But, after seeing those two horses we decided to put them in a stocking. It was her first Christmas and Santa had come. St. Nicholas. Someone who gave of himself for no other reason then to give of himself. I realize now that nothing can be more Christ like then that.

Today is the feast of St. Nicholas. That is why this story has been on my mind. I realize that I am not so generous. But, I've been so blessed to be surrounded by people who are so giving. I want my daughter to learn to have a generous spirit.

When she is old enough to ask, I will tell her this story.

Back to Basics

2011-11-29T23:58:00.001-08:00

Back to basics. That phrase seems to be in vogue right now. What does that mean exactly and why is it becoming so popular? Americans everywhere are waking up and realizing that we can't keep going in the direction we are going without hitting a brick wall. Somethings got to give. Not only at the national level but at the personal level as well.

What are the basics of life? Our needs. For me it is God, people to love, good food, a roof over head, and medicine when I am sick. Everything else is extra. As Americans we seem to focus a lot of our time and energy on that extra stuff.

We are time starved. You never get any more time. When it's gone that is it. Yet,we spend it in persuit of things that will never make us truly happy. And everything suffers because of it. We are too tired on Sunday mornings to get up and go to church. We're too tired to pray. We're to tired to learn. So, our faith suffers. We don't have time to spend with our families, so our marriages suffer. Because our marriages fail our children suffer. We don't have time to cook a good home cooked meal so our health suffers. We don't have time to clean our homes so they suffer. We don't have time to garden or cultivate good relationships with produce stands, butchers, and farmers so our food supply suffers. We don't have time to volunteer so our communities suffer. We're too tired to think and we don't have time to care. Our time is wasted.

Because we are unhappy we try to throw money at the problem. We try to feel happy by seeking entertainment. We give money to different industries that have been created just for this purpose. Cable T.V., the movie industry, the music industry, the porn industry, the video game industry. When were done with that we try to relax with some retail therapy and a quick bite (because we don't have time for much else) from the food industry. We pay for pills for depression and therapy. Then it's back to bed because we have to get up in the morning and earn some money so we can start all over again. Money (and the entertainment it buys) is not evil. But, mistaking it for happiness will cause you grief. This is the "extra stuff."

Since we've already wasted our time and we have all this "extra stuff" all of our resources are tied up in maintaining the lives we have created. Why am I a part of the back to basics movement? Because I realized that I was suffering.

We have to learn to embrace our suffering and let it move us onto a new path. People are afraid of suffering. But, without suffering there would be no reason for us to change. It helps us to better ourselves and to shed bad habits. It helps us to learn new things. It teaches us to empathize with the suffering of others. Because it teaches us it is o.k. to reach out to others when we are in need and in turn we help them when they need us. In short, it helps us to grow up.

Think of the people who lived through the Great Depression or the Second World War. They were strong people. All at once self reliant and they had a strong sense of family and community. They were "the greatest generation". But, they didn't start out that way. They were wounded and their scars healed and made them tough. They grew up and learned. And when they got knocked down they got up and stood taller then ever before.

The back to basic movement is going strong because like our great-grandparents. We've learned from our suffering. We've found a need to reassess things. We need to change the ideas of what it means to be happy and secure.

We're getting back to basics.

The True Joy of Cooking

2011-09-20T00:20:00.000-07:00

Even though fall has just begun I can feel winter winds plotting their return. I love to sit in my comfy chair on a cold evening and keep warm, with a cup of something hot, and a good book. I like all kinds of books but, what I really love, is a good cook book. I read cookbooks the way some people read a novel, from front to back. My whole family does this. I am certain it's an inherited trait.

That is what I went for tonight and it got me thinking. I'm not that good of a cook really. That isn't false modesty, just a fact. When I cook vegetables, that is what they are when I am finished- cooked vegetables. Nothing exciting. I don't have that touch. Boy does almost all of the cooking. I think he learned to cook because of my lack of culinary prowess. But, he is a damn good cook. I use to love going out. I don't even like to eat out anymore, because we couldn't even afford to eat at the places that would serve food the way he does. And why pay for anything less? So, that is just fine with me.

My love of food is so great, I think it must be in my top three things that I love- God, family, and food. What else matters really? I'm ashamed to say that sometimes the order of this gets muddled. I have to watch myself so I don't slip into complete gluttony. And, since making dinner tends to be boys thing, I have to find other ways to exercise my need to be involved in the food making process.

I garden. Not only does it help me to keep somewhat fit. It is meal planning at it's finest. When I am planting my tomatoes in the spring I am planning for my tomato sauce in the fall. Planting radishes today, so that I can have radishes in October. Thumbing through seed catalogs in December...you get it, right? So, while Boy might cook the food, I provide the first step in the process.

I shop. Most woman can't wait to get to the mall for some sexy heels. I can't wait to go buy some peaches. In the past few years I've begun to shop at farmers markets and u-picks for the things I don't grow.

I bake. I love to bake bread. It's one of those sensual and simple things that really makes me happy. It is like magic. You throw some flour with some water and yeast and suddenly you have this living growing, mass on your counter. The feel of the dough, the smell of the yeast, the warmth of the oven, mmm....the taste of warm bread. Wonder Bread can kiss my ass.

I can. No, I'm not about to go into some kind of self motivating speech, I mean I preserve foods in a hot water bath. It's fun, the jars look gorgeous all lined up in my cabinet, I get a bit of steam facial, and it makes our own convenient food. Open a jar up and there you go. Still can't can low acid veggies and meat. Because, I don't know how to use a pressure canner. It is on my "must learn list."

I experiment. I have a lot of "experiments" going on in my kitchen. I'm always trying something new. I don't really count them as cooking since it usually some odd ingredient, new fad, or process I'm playing with. Some fail horribly, some turn out quite tasty. I make yogurt on a regular basis now. However, I don't know that I will ever make fermented fish sauce again.

I have always loved food. But, leaving the workplace and starting a family is what really got me started with all this homemaking and "experimenting". So, honestly I haven't been at it very long. Boy too. When I met him his idea of cooking was ordering pizza or boiling noodles. Instead, of buying everything to make dinner(or buying dinner itself), we are a part of the process. I make the buns and he cooks the meat. I grow the cucumbers he finds 1000 and 1 ways to prepare them. We no longer pay someone to live our lives for us. We're learning and growing. Being involved in making our own food is nourishing on so many different levels.

I'm off to find a good book. "Joy of Cooking", perhaps?

Drinking Up Some Sun

2011-06-26T23:32:00.000-07:00

I gave up drinking coffee. Or rather I gave up adding sugar to my coffee. I loved coffee. I could drink it all day long even in the hottest weather. Even with spicy mexican food. I didn't care I loved it. But, each time I drank it I would add 2 heaping tablespoons of sugar to my mug. I am not a health food nut, but, even I knew that couldn't be good for me. But, I was hooked. Even the thought of stopping made me feel terrible. So, this last winter, I finally emptied out my beloved sugar bowl and ended it.
The problem is I don't like coffee without sugar. It tastes terrible. So, I gave that up too. Almost, I still like a little if I'm eating a dessert. MMmmm.....bite of something sweet. Sip of some coffee. Now that I like.
So, I've been drinking a lot of water and suntea. But, sometimes that gets old. So, this summer I've been experimenting with a lot of different drinks. I thought I would share some of my favorites.

The first one, Keifer, is my favorite so far. I live for dairy. The whole probiotics craze speaks to me. People are so obsessed with sterilization. In an effort to live forever, we kill every bug and germ. Not realizing, that most bugs and germs are harmless and actually benificial. Plus, it has the added bonus of being sort of weird because you have this living colony of bacteria hanging out in your kitchen. Sometimes, I feel like yelling out "It's ALIVE! It's ALIVE" like a mad scientist.

Keifer
( Pronounced Keh-fear, For more information visit this website: http://users.sa.chariot.net.au/~dna/kefirpage.html)
*T. Keifer Grains
*Ball jar full of Milk
Place the keifer grains in a jar. Cover them with the milk. Seal the jar and let it sit on your countertop 12-24hrs. Depending on room temp. When it is thick it's ready. Strain the keifer into a glass and save the grains to use in the next batch of keifer.
Sometimes I like to drink it neat and sometimes I like to add a little maple syrup, or lemon zest, or sometimes...

Smoothie
*Jar of finished Keifer
*Handful of strawberries or other fruit
*2 T. Maple syrup
Blend up and add 2 icecubes to the blender while it's still running. It's delicious for breakfast.

I like this one a lot. It's like my very own "instant" lemonade:

Fresh Lemonade Base
(from the Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook)
*2 1/2 C. Water
*1 1/4 C. Sugar
*1/2 t. finely shredded lemon peel
*1 1/4 C. Lemon juice
In a saucepan heat water and sugar until dissolved. Allow to cool 20 min. Meanwhile, cut lemons and grate peels. Add peel and juice to the sugar mix. Pour into a jar. May be refridgerated up to 3 days.
For each glass combine equal parts base and water in an ice filled glass, stir. One jar of base makes 8 C. of lemonade.

Strawberry Lemonade Slush
(From Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook)
* 1/2 C. fresh or frozen strawberries
*1/3 C. Lemonade base
*1T. sugar
In a blender combine all ingredients. Blend until smooth. Add 1/2 C. ice cubes 1 at a time while the blender is still running. Makes 1 serving.
...Yes, I realize neither of these are sugar free....so sue me. Do you have any good summertime drinks to share?

Magic Wands

2011-06-07T21:36:00.000-07:00

The kids I babysit for brought over a huge container of bubbles, a gallon at least. So, out we went to my back porch for some bubble blowing fun. Instead, of the usual wands theirs were battery operated, with four heads and a fan in the back. So, you push the button and suddenly all these bubbles appear.
So, 1/4 of the way through the gallon, one of the wands broke. Leaving me to fix it and console one screaming 3 year old. Finally, I got it working again. Then the batteries quite on the other. Ah, another screaming child, this one 5. But, there were no new batteries.
So, the 5 year old sat and watched her brother for awhile. He pointed the wand at the ground creating a mountain of bubbly froth. Then he would pop them one by one. Finally, frustrated, the 5 year old stuck her fist in the bubble solution and blew on it in an angry huff. A bubble floated away from her hand like magic. "Did you see that!?" She said to him. She did it again, only that time she tried to make a circle with her fingers. A string of bubbles lifted up through the air. Her brother hardly noticed and continued to shoot the ground.
She kept playing, each time moving her fingers into a different shape. After awhile she grew tired of that and looked around at the grass. She plucked up a blade and looped it into a circle. The she stuck it into the bowl of soap and blew on it. A tiny bubbled jumped out onto the grass. "I'll be right back." She said to me as she wandered to the back, were the bushes are overgrown and the grasses grow tall. She came back with a handful of sticks and steams. We bent them into loops and tested their bubble blowing properties. In the end, she decided she liked to use her hand the best. The 3 year old still sat popping bubble mountains he had made on the ground. Occasionally yelling, as if for the first time, "Look, look Miss Megan. A big one!"

Crop Failure

2011-05-26T21:11:00.000-07:00

This year I have a lot of experiments going on around the house, both inside and out. Some have been a success, others...not so much.
I started all my plants from seed this year. Everything from nasturtiums to tomatoes. Everyday, I would pull them down and fuss over them. I thought I was taking really good care of them, until 3 weeks passed, and I had nothing but dirt. I dug down into the pots to look at the seeds. They had never sprouted. Apparently, I hadn't watered them deeply enough.

So, I started over. I ditched the potting soil, and got some seed starting mix. I pre-sprouted the seeds by wetting paper napkins and setting the seeds inside. Then I slipped them into plastic baggies for a few days. After they sprouted I transplanted them into their little seed pots. I also found out I should water them from the bottom. They came up beautifully. Everyday, I would take them down from the top of my oven, and move them from one sunny window to the next. One morning, the sun was coming in my dining room window, and it looked so bright and cheery. The only place I had to set them was on a low bench. It was breakfast time and the baby and I were going into the kitchen. We ate, and I was trying to finish up some project I had going at the kitchen table. Bink sat quietly and watched me for awhile. I was nearly finished when the baby started to fuss. So, I put her down on the floor and went back to my project. I finished what I was doing and sat there a moment enjoying that good satisfying feeling you get when you accomplish something. Then I noticed it. The silence. The awful, horrible silence. I looked around and the baby wasn't in the kitchen. I scrambled up out of my chair and looked into the dining room. "NOOOooooo!" I yelled. Bink came crawling toward me scared, screaming, and covered in dirt. It was everywhere. Little paper pots sat crumpled in heaps. Tiny uprooted plants lay like bodies on the floor. My crop had failed a second time.

I salvaged what I could and replanted the rest. The newly planted seedlings pushed their way up out of the soil and with them a new problem appeared. I had watered them too much and without proper lighting and air...shrooms decided to nestle themselves between my little seedlings. And some fuzzy furry white mold was creeping along the edges of some of the pots. I discovered that seedlings started indoors are prone to dampening off. It's a fungal disease that causes plants to wither and die. While there is a lot you can do to prevent it there really is no suggested cure.
I know that tea tree oil is used as an anti fungal treatment in beauty products. So, I thought I would try adding a splash to the watering can. For the most part, it worked. I lost all of my tomatoes though.
So I watered too little, I watered too much, and I left them in harms way. But, it seems I will get a few veggies to put out in the garden this year. I hope...

The Lenten Season and Maple Sugaring Time

2011-03-27T21:13:00.000-07:00

March is a busy time for us. But, its a good time too.

I actually love Lent. If it is March that means it's Lent. And Lent means fish fry's at our church. We walk down to the hall every Friday during lent. The fish is great and the people are too. It feels like a real community. But, my love of Lent doesn't end at the fish fry's.

All of the customs of Lent help me to remember God more throughout my day. I pray a little more and it really sets the pace for the rest of the year. I've been trying to remember to pray even while I'm working on something. Sometimes when I get busy I forget. And they say that's when you need it most. I never would have thought I could learn to love a time that centers around fasting, prayer, and alms giving. But, I do.

We just finished the first harvest of the year. March is maple sugar time. Every year we tap the trees in our front yard. We fill buckets full of sap, and when we get enough, it is all boiled down into syrup and sugar. Boy starts it outside but, when it gets to the syrup stage we finish it off in the kitchen. It makes the whole house smell delicious. This was a very good year for it. We have over six pounds of maple sugar in our cabinet and I have 1/2 a gallon of syrup in my fridge. It didn't all come from our trees. Boy and his cousin get extra sugar for us by volunteering at the county park. Our family is a little sugar crazy. We even went down to the Maple Sugar Festival in Southern Indiana.

If your wondering what on earth I am going to do with 1/2 a gallon of syrup, well I'll tell you. I'm going to eat it. It isn't just good on pancakes. Its good in yogurt, oatmeal, drizzled on bread, brandy (yeah, that's right) , and a new recipe I fell in love with called pumpkin griddle cakes. As for the sugar, most of it will be used for our group at various French and Indian reenactments that we do throughout the year. But, some of it will wind up on pork loins... And, some is going to go in my tea. Don't tell.

Boy does theater with the kids at school. The end of March means that it's showtime. It starts in November and he finished up just this past week. It means the end of lots of long workdays and long nights. I'm happy to have him back at home.

The end of March also signifies that my daughter is going to be one year old. Amazing.

The Great Thaw

2011-02-17T11:47:00.000-08:00

I woke up late this morning and I could hear birds outside of my window. The baby was still sleeping beside me. I laid there listening. Something was wrong. The light in the room felt different. So, I got up and pulled the curtains back. The snow had melted, leaving little white islands in a sea of brown mud and dead grass. The thaw WAS here.

A gray squirrel ran across the sidewalk, carrying something that resembled a chocolate chip cookie. I realized I wasn't wearing my glasses. He crawled up the side of a maple tree, found a branch and started munching away. I breathed in deeply, spring was coming, I could smell it. Binker woke up and I carried her from room to room, opening the windows. I wanted to blow the stale winter air right out the windows and let in a little springtime.

I can't help but, think of my husband. He works in a building that is sealed up. You can't even open the windows. The same stale air is recycled through the vents. Over and over again. Day in and day out. He works in a ziploc bag. It's inhuman, especially, on a day like today.

I realize my celebration is a little premature. I know better than to assume winter is over. But, I am so happy to get a little break from old man winter. And, just like the squirrels and the birds, I feel like I need to move. Something I haven't felt in awhile.

I can smell spring.

Hibernation

2011-01-18T23:21:00.000-08:00

This winter has been a strange one for me. I have often coveted a bears ability to remain inside through the cold. I could picture her there all warm and snug in her den. Not truly hibernating, but, just being dormant and only coming out on the warmest of days. Because, I'm now a stay at home mom, I've finally been able to do just that.
No cursing the snowstorms, no cleaning off the car in the morning, and no white knuckled, butt clenchingly cold ride to work (my car didn't have heat). I love it. While the rest of the world wages war against old man winter, I can stay in my warm little house and watch the snowfall.
After all the rush from the holidays things have been quiet. We've all been working on our winter projects. Boy is finishing up a new piece of furniture for the dining room. It's a buffet! I can't wait until it's complete. I've been trying out some new art projects, reading, and trying to plan out next years garden. Binker is crawling now and she is quickly discovering the joys of solid foods.
But, before you hate me too much there are a few drawbacks. I'm alone with a baby, and sometimes a couple extra toddlers (I babysit), most of the day during the week. And because I spend so much time with little ones I've developed some odd habits. Like announcing to everyone, adults included, that I have to go use the potty.
But, its a fair trade. At least for me. I'm happy for right this moment, snug and warm in my den. Let it snow.

A Confession for December

2010-12-12T00:21:00.000-08:00

When I was a child I loved this time of year. I could recite the Night Before Christmas. I had tons of books about Christmas (and one about Hanukkah) and I would watch every Christmas Special. I would diligently study toy catalogues. And, I think, out of all of my school mates, I was the last to give up on Santa.

The day after Thanksgiving we made a big deal about decorating and putting up a tree (and an electric Menorah). I loved to decorate this miniature tree that I had for my bedroom and I had a tiny plastic Nativity Scene that came from the dollar store. I liked to look at the little plastic figures all snuggled together in that tiny wooden manger. That was about as close to religion as I got.
My family did not attend church, and we didn't talk about God unless someone died. My Mom explained to me that she had her own religious ideas but, she didn't want to impose them on me. She wanted me to be open to all beliefs and to find my own truth. I was told that Christmas was the day that baby Jesus was born. Someone even gave me a nativity pop-up book. And, I remember going to Church with my Grammy and Granddad one year for Christmas. I felt very out of place.
I didn't see what any of it had to do with Christmas. Christmas was about family, decorations, parties, and presents. Anything religious was just too weird. When I was a little older my Mom got a real nativity set. It sat in the same spot under the tree every year but, it sort of got lost beneath all of the presents.

After, Christmas was over, we would leave up our decorations until the Greek Orthodox Church celebrated Christmas. My Mom said it was out of respect for a couple of friends of ours who were Greek Orthodox. Then Christmas would go back into its box and get packed into the basement. And out would come the Valentine's Day decorations.

As I got older, my fondness for Christmas seemed to grow dimmer and dimmer each year. My Mom started drinking. So, my Dad hated Christmas. Because, let me just say Alcoholism + Holidays = Disaster. I worked retail for quite a few Christmases. When I worked at Linen's and Things the Christmas music came on at the end of October. I grew tired of the decorations. They all seemed tacky and riddled with glitter, that I then, had to sweep up off the floor every night. The last place I worked had Christmas Decorations coming in, in July. The whole store changed in November. People became rude. The aisles were a mess to clean up. And the hours got longer. I started to equate Christmas with greed, impatience, selfishness, mass consumerism, physical exhaustion and I got burnt out. I just started to get disgusted with the whole thing.

I hate Christmas.

I honestly don't want to. I really tried to fight it. But, there it is. I. Hate. Christmas.

I'm grown up now. I have a daughter of my own and, for her, at least, I want to love Christmas again. I want to share my beliefs with her. I know that means finding a balance between the secular and the sacred. Something with a little substance and a lot less glitter. And, I just know, the solution has something to do with that little dollar store nativity set. The truth behind that little plastic woman and her tiny pink baby.

Squash Living

2010-11-21T21:48:00.000-08:00

PUMPKINS, BUTTERNUT, and ACORN SQUASH! With all of the excess squash around the house I've been up to my elbows in pumpkin innards and seeds. I understand now, why these guys were so important for Native Americans, and later for the Europeans, who came to call this place home. They're easy to grow, they keep well, and they're suppose to be packed full of vitamins.
So far, we've eaten them in soups, we've baked em', we've mashed em' up like potatoes, and we've roasted their seeds for snacks. There is plenty more left too. So, the experimenting continues. I'm hoping to make some breads, pancake batter and biscuits. Oh, and I've also read you can add them to smoothies. But, I think I'll pass on that one. I am also going to pass on the pie, because my mother in law makes the best pumpkin pie. Here is a "recipe" I made up the other day:

------------------------

-Butternut Squash Mash-

One whole butternut squash

Handful of Maple Sugar

Salt

Pepper

Palmful of Fennel Seed (opt.)

Wash squash and then chop the stem off. Slice the squash in half and then in half again. Remove any seeds or goopy stuff from the center (We use an icecream scoop). Then, rub oil onto the squash. Bake in the oven 350 Degrees until the flesh is easily pierced with a fork. Time varies depending on the size. Allow to cool a little and the skin will peel off easily. Place in a bowl with your spices and mash with a potato masher.

--------------------------

I know the measurements aren't very good but, that's just how I cook. I guess that's why Boy does most of the cooking. I'm usually the baker. :)

So, got any good squash recipes for me?

Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

2010-11-10T21:10:00.000-08:00

My baby girl, she goes by many names. Including: Newbie, Sweets, Polka, Stinker-Binker, Binker, and sometimes Binks. As you can see, with parents like us, she's doomed from the start. Well, Binker has finally shown a preference toward something besides me. She doesn't like pacifiers, her thumb finds its way into her mouth once and a while but, it never stays for long. She has plenty of stuffed animals but, so far she doesn't show any favoritism toward anyone in particular. When she's upset she has always turned to me for comfort. I was talking with a friend of mine, and she said, that Sweets needed to find a lovey. A lovey is an object that a child becomes attached to. And, despite the silly name, I had hoped my daughter would find one.
So, it seems my little baby has finally found a lovey. It usually manifests itself in the form of blanket carrying or teddy bear cuddling. But, I never would have dreamt of this:

What the heck is it?

Why, it's a puppy dog tail. Duh.

Piles of toys and she plays with this thing for hours. Not the dog, just the tail. What can I say? As I said, with parents like us, she's doomed to be weird. But, if baby is happy, I'm happy.

Neighbors

2010-11-01T23:34:00.000-07:00

I love Trick or Treating. Even now that I'm an adult and I'm the one passing out the candy. Trick or Treating brings everyone out of their homes and into the night. As a child it gave me the excuse ring doorbells and knock on doors I normally wouldn't be welcome at. Perfect strangers would look happy to see me and give me candy.
I like to think we live in a pretty typical neighborhood. Although, it's quiet here. Our neighbors to the north and south of us moved out within months of each other. And that was when I realized, we've been in our current house for over two years, and I didn't even know the people living only feet from my house. I would see them getting into their cars in the morning, or letting their dog outside, but, we would just sort of wave at each other. I suppose I "knew" the people who lived to the north of us. We introduced ourselves one time. Our neighborliness only went so far as politely pretending we didn't see each other running our recycling bins out to the curb, wearing only our p.j.'s. But, the truth is, I remember their dogs name but, not theirs. It's easy enough to remember a name, especially if you hear someone calling it from their back porch often enough.

Now we've received a fresh batch of new neighbors. So, I've been determined to do better this time. When the first pair moved in I made a point to go over and introduce myself. I really wasn't sure what to do. Do I take a casserole? On T.V. there always bringing new neighbors jell-o molds and welcome baskets. I didn't have any of those things. I took the baby. Well, if anything she's a wonderful ice breaker. Complete strangers will stop me on the street, if I'm carrying the baby. Some of them will even talk directly at me, others will direct all the questions at the baby in a singsong voice. "And who are you? We'll aren't you the cutest thing. Are we crawling yet? And, oh, those eyes... " Etc. Etc. Anyway, the meeting went well enough. In fact, not only did they tell me their dogs name but, theirs too. And during our garage sale they brought me over a cutting from one of their cactus plants I had been admiring. Bonus.
Then, the opportunity came up to volunteer and go door to door, passing out information about the Leukemia and Lymphoma society, and to collect donations. And to my surprise, I took it. Door to door anything did not seem like me, but, it was the perfect excuse to introduce myself to my other neighbors.
So, armed with a new sense of neighborliness, I packed the baby in her sling and I went around knocking on doors. To my surprise, no one called me Ned Flanders and slammed the door in my face. I actually got a few donations. Plus, I've had some nice encounters with several of my neighbors since then.
A women who lives in the house down the street, brought a new outfit over for the baby. She saw it on clearance and she said she couldn't resist. My neighbors across the street have two little ones. They let me borrow a car seat one day, when I forgot to grab the baby's out of the car before Boy left for work. I felt like such a nerd going over there to ask them. The only thing that convinced me was a vision of my baby in the cat carrier. But, they were really sweet about letting me borrow it. The husband even helped me get it in the car. I was so thankful, I gave them a loaf of homemade bread when I returned it. A few days ago, they saw me outside raking leaves and they brought over a whole bag of baby clothes that their daughter no longer fits into.
Last week, the for sale sign came down in front of the house on the south side. This time I'm going over there with some homemade bread. But, I'll still take the baby.

The Purge: Part 2

2010-10-15T21:09:00.001-07:00

Garage Sale in Issaquah Highlands, originally uploaded by kathleenleavitt.

O.k. so the pictures not mine, but I seem to have misplaced my camera. But, you get the idea. My Mom and I had a garage sale last weekend. By the time everything was unwrapped, tagged, and displayed and then rewrapped, boxed up and hauled out, two weeks had passed us by. My Mom still has a few things hanging around in my garage. We didn't get rich off of our labors but, I would do it again. It was kind of fun. Plus, I feel like I can finally breath. It was so nice to finally get rid of all of that STUFF. And, It will be much easier to hibernate this winter with a clean lair.

Harvest Time

2010-10-01T07:15:00.000-07:00

So, it's October 1st. Brian pulled in the last of the garden veggies. As I said before, this years garden was pretty much on its own. But, we still did alright in the end.

Right now I loathe tomatoes. I started out the summer dying for a REAL one too. I meant to keep track of #'s to get an idea for planning next years garden. But, somewhere around basket # 6, and pot of tomato sauce #8, I lost count. Hopefully, that will keep us, in pizza and pasta heaven, for a couple of months.

The other award in the Survival of the Fittest Garden Contest goes to our squash. Which is awesome since it makes perfect baby food. I only processed a few and I already have two gallon size bags full of frozen baby sized portions. Sweets has been loving it. The rest are "decorating" my dining room until Halloween. Then, they too will suffer the same baby nibbling fate as the others.
Runners up for the Survival of the Fittest Award: Cucumber, Red Pepper, and Radish
Before I sound like a total braggart here is a list of other things that did not do so well: Corn, Beans, Bell Pepper, Leeks, Cauliflower, and Carrots.

I can't help but imagine what it would be like if I had put some effort into it.

My Morning Lark

2010-09-28T06:45:00.000-07:00

It was cold out this morning when Boy left for work. When he closed the door, and the cold air came up into the kitchen, I was hit with a wave of nostalgia. It was the strangest thing, it reminded me of my Father. He was a morning person.

My Dad would wake up singing and smiling no matter what. On school days I would get up and he'd be awake already. The coffee would be made and he would be getting ready for work. He suffered from constant sinus issues. So, he would take an incredibly hot shower. I know this because he would open the bathroom door, and a great fog would come rolling out. He would walk around taking deep breaths, and saying how good it was to breath. Then, he would usually blow dry his hair for what seemed like hours. He would come out singing and smelling like old spice and soap. My Dad always sang in the mornings. It didn't matter what kind of day he had had the day before or how terrible a night sleep he had. And, he had many, because, he suffered from insomnia for years. But, he would always sing.

I hated mornings. I would usually sit at the kitchen counter hanging on to my coffee waiting for him to finish getting ready, so, I could take my turn in the bathroom. I always told him he was crazy for being so happy in the morning, when I felt so miserable. He would just laugh and sing louder.

He loved hot coffee too, scalding hot coffee. He would pour some out of the pot and then zap it for a few seconds in the microwave. On mornings, when he didn't have to be anywhere, he would make breakfast. Sometimes, it was just oatmeal. Sometimes, it was bacon and eggs. If he made pancakes he would make two kinds. Some paper thin and crispy, which was how he liked them. And, some were fluffy, which was how I liked them. Then he would work on the crossword puzzle. After he filled out a few, he would always turn it toward me and say, "Here, see what you can do with that."

On days that he had to work he would usually go outside four or five times before actually leaving the house. He was always forgetting something. The address for the house he had to go to, or a phone call, or just one more cup of coffee. He would say goodbye each time he left. But, I knew he was actually leaving for work when I would see his van finally, pull out of the driveway. He was rarely in a hurry, he always gave himself plenty of time in the mornings.

I can still see him standing their looking out the kitchen window planning his day with a cup of coffee in his hand. His blue-eyed stare would be far far away. I always thought it was funny that he did that. Standing there completely motionless except for the steam rising up out of his coffee mug. He had the whole day stretched out in front of him. Nothing had spoiled his day yet. It was fresh. Meanwhile, I sat at the counter. My day, already ruined, because I was awake.

My husbands a bit like my father was. He doesn't sing in the mornings, he's a talker. He has this energy about him. His footsteps are quick and loud and, he walks around like a general ready for battle. His mornings are always a rush. Into the shower, into his clothes, into the kitchen, and out the door. He doesn't plan his day. He attacks it. Even on weekends. Only in the summer time does he slow down. Only then, is there time for second cups of coffee, and crossword puzzles.

I hate mornings, I hate them. But, it's a good thing that there are morning people like my husband and my father. Without them I may never have gotten out of bed.

The Lazy Homestead

2010-09-23T07:28:00.000-07:00

Look at this nice clean little garden plot. So full of promise. It really captures the optimism of spring:

Hmmmm....lovely. Lets see what are little patch of land looks like today, shall we? :

I suppose this explains why both my neighbors, to the north and south, moved away this summer. Anyways, we still got a pretty good haul of fresh veggies. Not enough to get us through the winter. If we were reliant on our little kitchen garden to sustain us until next spring...well, we would be screwed. But, we did prove that you can have a garden with very little spare time and cash. Here's how to do it:

Step one- Have a baby. This is a must for the lazy gardener. Assuring you that any time you have the itch to do some actual work in the yard, you will be trapped in the house as far away from your garden as possible.

Step two-Then, start the garden weeks past the recommended start date.

Step three- Then, invite all of the neighborhood squirrels to come and feast on your newly planted seeds.

Step four- Toss the sprinkler in the center of the garden and turn it on occasionally. Be sure to wait until some plants are wilted and screaming for moisture. Oh, and at least one time during the growing season, forget to turn it off and leave the sprinkler running all night long.

Step five- Decide to play the at home version of Survival of the Fittest. Never weed. Weeding makes for sissy plants who will never learn to fend for themselves.

And finally, Step six-Harvest time. Bring in those veggies and eat up.

See that wasn't so hard was it? You too can be a lazy gardener. Imagine the possibilities, the unkempt rows, the abundant weeds, the trailing squash vines that will threaten to creep into your neighbors lawns.

The Summer Knows

2010-08-26T23:17:00.000-07:00






The summer smiles, the summer knows,And unashamed, she sheds her clothes;

The summer smoothes the restless sky,

And lovingly she warms the sand on which you lie.

The summer knows, the summer's wise,

She sees the doubts within your eyes,

And so she takes her summer time

Tells the moon to wait and the sun to linger,

Twists the world 'round her summer finger,

Lets you see the wonder of  it all.

And if you've learned your lesson well,

There's little more for her to tell;

One last carress - it's time to dress for fall.






- Barbra Streisand, 1971





From the movie "Summer of '42" 

It is official summer has come to an end. We're starting to get  squashes and small pumpkins from the garden. And the dog days seem to have disappeared rather quickly. The weather has been nice and cool lately.  This time of year is always bitter sweet for me. Autumn means Boy is back to work. The days are getting shorter. The blueberries and strawberries are all eaten up or sitting in ziploc's in my freezer. No more beach days, no more campouts, fireworks or parish festivals. Gone are days of  waking up, drinking coffee and sitting on the bed watching the baby wake up slowly,  while fighting over the crossword puzzle.

Bitter sweet though it is, I could never live somewhere that didn't have four distinct seasons. I love the feeling I get when the season's change. It's a process:
 First, there's denial (there's plenty of time to go blueberry picking again)
Then Second, comes the guilt (I should have started a fall garden this year and why didn't I
 weed more?)
Third, anger (Friggin' WEEDS!)
And then, depression ( Goodbye corn on the cob...*sniff*)
The upward turn, ( I look better in sweaters than I do in shorts)
Then comes reconstruction and working through, (No more mosquito's, awesome)
And finally hope, ( What kind of ridiculous costume can I force Sweets into this Halloween?) 


The changing seasons give me that ability to reflect on the past and still have hope for the future. Well, enough pining for summer. Time to look forward to autumn. I'm going to go eat some squash. 
--------vaarwel-----
---------

The Purge: Part One

2010-08-17T21:58:00.000-07:00

Look what I found in my basement. A play corner stocked full of nice clean toys just waiting to be played with. Ahh, I love that feeling of accomplishment. I must have gone through a gazillion pounds of useless, broken, unwanted junk. I mean I'm 27 years old. Why do I still have a Teddy Ruxpin? And, do I really need to keep every My Little Pony I ever had? Alright, I'll admit it, they were really hard for me to let go. - I'm very attached to my things. But, I'm trying to get better. Amazing what you find when you go through and get rid of some STUFF.

The STUFF.

------------------Great. Now what do I do with it?-----------------

A.T.C. Swap

2010-08-16T13:28:00.000-07:00

I've discovered something new. Well it's at least new to me. Apparently, people have been doing this for the past few years. It's called an A.T.C. swap. The A. T. C. stands for Artist Trading Cards. You create tiny little artworks and trade them with other artists. It's a good way to get to know local artists in your area. I love the stupid little things.

The only rule's are that they have to be original pieces. And they have to be 2.5 in. by 3.5 in. Then you take them to a Swap and trade them with others. I made 7 cards and traded them. So, I got to leave the swap with 7 miniature pieces of art. All of which are unique to the artist that made them. Some are done on computer, some are painted, one uses scrapbooking materials, another is a collage of ribbon. Mine were done with construction paper. *Blush* I know I'm a high class sophisticated artist. But, I love construction paper.

Because they are so small. Starting them is not as intimidating as starting a huge project. And they really aren't costing me much money. So I can't use that as an excuse either. So, I am hoping these little mini-works will at least keep my creative juices flowing. Since I'm such a slothful artist. I'm big on concepts but, not so good with the actualization. In other words, I'm good at coming up with idea's but, I just don't feel motivated enough to actually do anything with them- because I'm lazy.

I wasn't really sure how to handle these. I didn't want to just create smaller versions of my other works. So figured I would keep it simple. For these I am hoping to create a visual diary. So, if you come to an A.T.C. Swap I might just be there. And I hope you'll trade with me. I'll give you a little piece of paper or as I like to think of it, a piece of my life, scaled down, 2 dimensional and done in construction paper and ink.

-------Fin-------

And Away We Go

2010-08-12T21:51:00.000-07:00

Summer is ending. We thought it would be a good idea to get in one last adventure. So, it seemed it was time for another camp out. At one point in time we would simply pick a spot on the map, load up the van, stick a canoe on top and go. Now, not so much. Now we have this to consider:

Notice the pouty lip?

For the most part Sweets is a good sport but, she has her limits. And when you have reached them she will let you know. So, we have to plan things around her schedule.

The other thing slowing us down is us. I think we're getting old or at least much more domesticated than I had realized. Apparently, we love our home. We were suppose to leave Sunday. We spent the whole day agonizing over when we were going to leave, and when we finally decided it was time to go, it was Monday.

----------Bye-Bye----------

Cold Bayou

2010-08-06T23:57:00.000-07:00

My husband loves all things Cajun. So for his birthday he wanted a real southern shrimp and crawdad boil. Doesn't sound too strange right? Well, what if I told you he is Polish and we live in Indiana. Or as we like to refer to it- the cold bayou (the area we are from has a lot of marshland and swamps). And, while any true Cajun would be able to point out all of our inaccuracies, I hope they will at least let us pretend. So, here is how to have a Louisiana supper on Midwestern soil:

1. Order/Purchase frozen shrimp or crawfish(a.k.a crayfish, crawdaddies, crawdads, mudbugs etc.) . When your little guys arrive they should be all nice and frozen. Keep them in your freezer until its time to cook them. Don't let them thaw. We ordered from these guys-

2. Eating crawdads is messy and fun. Don't worry about cleaning your house. Set up some tables and chairs outside. Cover the table with newspaper or butcher block paper. Not everyone who was invited to our little get together wanted to dine on mudbugs. So, the smaller table in the foreground was for our squeemish guests, that they may dine in peace, far from our crawdaddy carnage.

3. You will need a some friends and a large pot. The pot is for cooking in and the friends are for eating the stuff you just cooked. A pot with a basket for lifting out the food is nice. My husband took an old deepfry basket and a metal hook and rigged it up so he could lift the basket out of the boiling liquid. Fill the pot with water and add the boil bag which is full of your seasoning(if you order online it comes with the shipment but, if you are buying from the grocery store they should sell shrimp and crab boil right by the fish counter).

4.You can prepare a few side dishes ahead of time. Or, just get some corn on the cob, onions, and a few potatoes and add them to the pot. Just be sure to add the shrimp/crawdads later because they cook up a lot faster than the veggies will. Cook times will very depending on whether or not your little guys are precooked or raw. So, after veggies are done bring the water to a boil. Crawdads will turn red like little lobsters when they are done and shrimp will turn pink. It will not take long.

5. Pull the bugs out of the water and serve. If you don't know what to do with that ugly critter that is now staring up at you take a look at this - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yNtzDsOlTQs&NR=1 And if you've tried them before, then you, know they are so very ugly but, so very good.

With all the issues the people of the gulf are having this summer, I think it only fair we lend some support to them. Consider buying seafood from the gulf. Watch at your local grocery store. They usually list were their fish and seafood are caught. If your store doesn't carry products from the gulf consider ordering some online and having it shipped to you.

-I'm living with a warm hearted man on a cold bayou-