Lunch Time Musings

Saturday Morning Chores

2012-01-21T09:44:00.001-08:00

Garden Journal: Jan. 15, 2012

2012-01-17T12:45:00.001-08:00

Today, I planted pansies in the hanging pots which sat derelict. Three pansy plants are in each pot, various shades of purple and one white with a purple center in each pot. Then I hung them from the wrought-iron work on the front porch. I felt a bit British taking so much care to have a front garden in winter when all the lawns and trees are bare and color is so out-of-place.

I also sowed an oat/pea cover-crop in one of the square garden plots. It should be a mild enough winter that the crop grows fast. 56 days to mature, then we’ll till it under in time to transplant our seed starters for spring. It should help improve the soil without wasting the winter months on an empty garden plot. There are advantages to gardening in Texas! We (Matt & I) also planted about 30 slip onions in one of our gardens. Hopefully they have enough of a head start to give us at least baby onions (for stew!) before we have to put in a spring crop. Matthew also added a purple cabbage (to serve in his ritual morning vegetable and fruit smoothie).

I know it’s the Lord’s day, but Sunday is the only day Matt and I have off of work together and its surprising how restful working in the garden can be. It took us about an hour to do all the work mentioned above.

2012

2012-01-13T08:22:00.001-08:00

I don’t make resolutions because I know I won’t keep them. And it seems silly to set myself up for sure disappointment. Maybe I got caught up in the spirit this year, maybe I just got tired of my own lazy tendencies, or maybe (and most likely) as my life gathers more permanence, I needed a whiff of change. I made four resolutions this year. I also outlined specific actions steps to take at the onset. Feel free to pester me about them in the next twelve months :)

Play more piano. I yearned desperately for my piano all those years in Mississippi and now that I have it, I barely touch it. In fairness, I also have a husband now and the priority is obvious. So how do I intend to change this trend? Buy more cello/piano duets (I’ve got a book on the way from Amazon); buy more candles and light them (mood lighting helps!); refrain from watching the Bachelor (it’s pathetic that this is an action step, but it is. Seriously. I wasted my time on that! The sooner I face it, the sooner I conquer it.)
Improve my posture. I’ve always wished I was a bit taller. I’d rather not have neck/back problems or become a hunchback or help my rear seem any larger than it already is. So I’m squaring my shoulders and not looking back!
Go on more dates. If it means planning it myself (our work schedules are ridiculously un-synched) or getting every living-social-groupon-yollar e-mail flooding my inbox, so be it. I’m not a couch potato and I never will be (*fist pump*) Plus I like romance and I like fun and I love Matt – so there!!! First on the calendar is the Rodeo, then the drive-in theatre, then the canoe tour under the moon, then the vintage train ride, then rock climbing, then New Zealand! Maybe.
Train on my bike: In light of resolution #3, it may not be possible to ride my bike on the continental divide or follow the Lewis & Clark trail, but just in case it is, I want to be ready! And in shape. And spend more time outdoors. Nothing bad can come from trying (I hope).

distance

2012-01-04T12:47:00.001-08:00

I haven’t written much because I’ve been busy dealing with life. I enjoyed my family over Christmas and I enjoyed a week spent in the comfort of my own home instead of the demands of my office. But life also includes sorrow and, unfortunately, we had that also. Our beloved canine friend Skyler (whom Matt has had as a companion for 13 years), had a sudden stroke. On Tuesday, he was happy, bounding, charming as always. On Wednesday, he was paralyzed. Holding each other with tears streaming down our faces, we said goodbye to him that day. Unexpectedly. Horribly. Somehow you don’t expect it to hurt as much as it does. But Skyler was our friend, truly. He welcomed us home every day with joy; he went hiking, camping, and backpacking with us, he hovered while we gardened and smiled while I hung up laundry. The untethered joy he infused in our lives is now noticeably gone. We loved him for it.

Our new year has started off with some hardness, our truck broke, and a friend we love is struggling. But God is here with us and its almost ironic that this truth was lost in the previous weeks of celebration but found at the start of a new year already filled with heart aches. God is with us: in celebration and in heartache, in the past year and the coming year. Amen.

Backyard surprise

2011-12-09T09:50:00.000-08:00

The garage of the house we rent is a converted room, the back half holds our laundry facilities and a door + screen door leads to the backyard. One night, Matt and I were doing something near the laundry when we saw out the screen door the most amazing sight. There, not four feet in front of us (and illuminated by the back porch light) an owl perched on our garden bench. It was the Eastern Screeching Owl and we stood there in awe. The little guy was so small and cute and his eyes looked so intelligent and nice (not quite the frown in this picture). And then he flew away. We hope his home is around somewhere because we rather like him. Plus, I hear he’s good at killing mice. :D

This isn’t our first backyard surprise. The day we looked at the house to rent, a huge wild turkey walked by in the alleyway! Strangely, we haven’t seen it since. The day my sister was giving birth, our dogs chased an albino raccoon up a nearby tree. From a distance it looked like a white cat, but when we investigated, we discovered otherwise. I must say, it was the freakiest looking thing I’ve ever seen. A couple of times, we have noticed a skunk living under a shed three doors down (thankfully it stays away from us, probably on account of the dogs). These wildlife sightings, complete with the neighbor’s rooster crowing at 5am, makes us feel like we’re in the country. We are, in fact, smack in the middle of a city, next to countless title loan places and “beer and wine” stores that don’t sell good beer (that tells you something!). We’re also in a part of town where no one bothers to enforce city codes, such as not being allowed to have a rooster :D. But that’s okay, because frankly, we want to be in the country and since we can’t yet, we’ll happily embrace the strange wonderfulness that is our little slice of geography. And look forward to the next backyard surprise.

Thanksmas

2011-12-08T09:13:00.000-08:00

A couple weeks ago we had “thanksmas” with Matt’s family (his witty sister Amy came up with that title :). It was great fun!

Our little tree and group (minus baby Elliott and Matt’s dad behind the camera)

Three Reasons Why I Love this Magazine

2011-11-18T08:42:00.000-08:00

Wend

Three snap shots from this month’s issue (which you can read online for free)

Flashback

2011-11-18T08:36:00.000-08:00

In July, Matt and I went camping. We drove an hour to a little park with a hike-in site on the edge of a lake. Where water met land was ambiguous and when illuminated by sunset became an eerie strange beauty. But it was also 103 degrees outside and very humid. Since I’m cold-natured, I crawled into the warm tent and was lulled into a deep sleep. Matt, on the other hand, sweated non-stop and felt completely unable to relax with constant moisture oozing from him. So, after one short night, we packed up and left. Oh, did I mention I forgot to bring the coffee? That might have been our real downfall! :}

Hey, at least the wildlife was friendly :)

Auntie Jo-Jo

2011-11-13T17:52:00.000-08:00

Next week, my niece and nephew come to visit for Thanksgiving. I officially have three nephews and one niece (although unofficially I have two nieces and six nephews, but I digress). Here's cutie-pie David who is officially one year old. You know I'm getting old when the majority of my pictures start featuring children! :D

picture post

2011-11-13T17:47:00.000-08:00

+ This is what Yosemite looks like at sunset!

Quiche

2011-11-08T10:11:00.000-08:00

I love omelets. They have a ‘blank slate’ quality to them. You can throw in just about anything and it will taste great. I love quiche because its one big omelet with a flaky crust. Hello! With a base of 3 eggs, 1 cup milk, and 1 cup cheese, its a canvas waiting for the colors of your pantry/garden/fridge. Its a frame that makes any picture look good. Its the right lighting for any face. Okay, enough analogies. But I’m serious. Mix in potatoes, ham, spinach, zucchini, even asparagus and it will taste amazing.

So when our garden finally started producing eggplants and when my sister’s garden was overrun with eggplants, I decided to try an eggplant quiche. The results? AMAZING! (of course!).

I use Martha’s Pate Brisee recipe, it yields me three thin quiche crusts, perfect for pulling out of the freezer at a moment’s notice.

The result was perfection!

Talent

2011-11-03T09:03:00.001-07:00

Friends,

I know you’re out there (because you tell me so in person) even if you’re not commenting. So it is with such confidence that I compose this plug. You may notice on the sidebar the list of friends who join me in this blog sphere. I’ve added another list: talent. Don’t get me wrong, you ALL have talent. But these friends are more than happy to hawk…I mean, share, their superb talent through the business model. And you get to benefit from the fact that I know them :D. Heck, I get to benefit from the fact that I know them!

Anyhow, it was too long to title the list “friends with benefits” but that’s essential what they are. So check them out. Because, you know I have great taste ;).

Kayla's Prints

I like hugging things

2011-11-01T08:39:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday, while my sister was resting from giving birth and my mother was helping, me and dad went to an airshow. He was in the air force for 20 years and has a thing for planes, even though he never got to fly them. We saw the Thunderbirds, he talked “shop” with plenty of military people and I kept busy running my left hand (a.k.a. ring hand) through my hair to catch the glare of the sun ;). I got him to turn around here:

Dad and the Thunderbirds.

It wasn’t just all fun Pops, though, I found something to hug. And you know how I like hugging things…

Good thing it wasn’t on!

The end.

Torin

2011-10-25T07:31:00.001-07:00

I welcomed my beautiful nephew into the world on Friday.Be still my heart!

work and dreams

2011-10-17T11:17:00.001-07:00

Last night, Matt and I pulled up our prolific cucumber plants, harvested our one butternut squash and the rest of our chives. Then we added some minerals, tilled, and planted a cover crop of barley in one of our gardens. Barley should add nitrogen to the soil over the winter and make it ripe (is that a pun? :) for the spring garden next year. Then, we did a second round of planting in our newest garden, so we can stagger the harvest times. In went cauliflower, carrots, kale, more leeks, and some brocoli. We plan to add garlic on Wednesday.

Matt and I get along best when we’re working together toward a mutual goal. I have a sneaking suspicion that if we manage to have a farm one day it will be really good for our marriage. Finding pictures like these on pinterest, just fuels the perseverance we must have now with our time, finances, and decisions. I almost crave my own land, but there’s a lot of steps to take first. I get tired of the baby steps. I have to be reminded what is at the end of the long winding road. I have to keep hope. I have to allow dreams to resurrect: dreams of secret garden doors, meals eaten outside, scents of dirt and sun, aching muscles, and long days of labor next to my husband. Somedays I feel like it will only ever be a dream. But even then, oh! what a wonderful dream.

Backpacking in Yosemite

2011-10-13T11:23:00.000-07:00

I haven’t cropped and fixed the pictures yet, but here are my two favorites for some instant gratification. This is my friend Lori representing us, with heavy packs, traveling from that valley floor to the top nether regions of the mountains. It was a brutal climb but my new backpack held up great. At the top, another little valley nestled in between two walls of granite, and me stooped early morning next to a stream to filter water. I won’t insult it with cliche superlatives, it was simply: beautiful.

I know...

2011-10-07T13:28:00.001-07:00

Most of you have probably stopped reading. Why? Because there was nothing to read. (I know, so logical).

And now you wonder if I’m tempting you with a cruel morsel or an appetizer with promises of a coming meal. I can’t really tell you. I don’t know…that.

I can tell you I bought a dress, a really cool dress. One that is a size too small. It has been sitting on my dresser, with the receipt, awaiting replacement. I left it there when I hoisted on a pack of survival gear and marched proudly into Yosemite with two friends. I stressed over weather, bears, elevation, pain in my calves, rations of food, and water supply. My body smelled, my hair was gnarly, and the people I passed (mostly guys) gave me major props.

I’ll admit, the props were nice, seriously nice, as the pain grew worse, the vista’s more beautiful and the mind more doubtful (was I crazy?!). Yet, at the end of it all, I didn’t want the props or the pictures. I wanted my husband.

With facebook and blogs and pinterest, it’s more possible than ever to compare myself to others and seek validation in a tangible way (‘likes’, ‘comments’, ‘pings’). It’s easier than ever to find and press the “cool button”. My dress is just another password in a long line I’ve collected to get “in” the world around me.

But as vestiges of my college days filter through my memory, I wonder if, like the backpacking trip, I’m caught up in the props while missing something very different. In the crash-course of wilderness survival, life lessons often crystallize very nicely. But not here in the real world.

I suspect that easy access to the coolness of others has slowly distracted me. I pour energy into comparison and acquisition and reconstruction of my life according to others. I used to pour energy into being a good friend, into the act of relating. Have I subtlety become obsessed with my own image at the expense of others?

It’s more complicated, of course, than just a switch of focus. Relating to others has become more difficult as the adult world with it’s distance, schedules, and commitments, tear us from the easy proximity of college dormitories and shared walks to the cafeteria or roommates across the apartment hallway. Relating now is popcorn style, once a week here or there. Everyone seems fine with it. My own husband doesn’t seem to require much relating to be content. So why not fill up all the holes with things that look sharp or function well or garner me props/likes/comments/pins, a way to make everything feel valuable?

Well, because I KNOW the better way. I’ve been there before. I just don’t know quite how to make it work in this new post-college/married/electronic world in which I find myself. Perhaps the best way to start is to return the dress and to continue to search for the right ‘yes’ and the right ‘no’. Even if those ways are small, I think together they’ll begin to make a difference.

fire

2011-09-09T11:10:00.001-07:00

This is what's happening in my state right now.
And this is what's happening in the same county where I spend time farming a couple weeks ago. Pray for RAIN!

Farm Girl

2011-09-06T14:55:00.000-07:00

My husband, bless him, tends to be a pessimist. He dreams of farming land one day and the picture in his head is exciting and fulfilling. But, for some weird reason, he pictures the country life being a miserable dreary existence for me and is afraid I'll hate it. While I do hope we live close enough to the city for symphonies and museums, I too have a picture in my head of what farm life could be. It looks a lot like this :P

Jig

2011-09-02T08:35:00.000-07:00

Pictures from our farm adventure are on the computer waiting a clean-up. I wonder if this means I’ve become a photo-snob? I can’t just take it straight from camera to post without some tweaking first :D. Also, to the disappointment of some, we were too busy working hard to come back with many stories. I’ve got a couple. Literally. Two.

Switch topic.

I’ve been thinking of my Irish heritage since stumbling across this trailer (actually, my husband found it for me). I was named after my great-great Aunt Sarah whose Irish Citizenship papers I have lovingly tucked away. She died in a car accident shortly after I was born and I have one picture of us together, when I was too young to have conscious memory.

Perhaps this is why I’m drawn to Irish/Scottish films. My sister knows the history of Ireland like the back of her hand. My brothers love spouting Irish toasts (“may you be in heaven half-an-hour before the Devil knows you’re dead”) and why, the only time I ever went to a céilí , I LOVED IT.

I’m also drawn to Irish films because I’ve never been to Ireland. Sad, right? If I ever get to go, I’m taking those citizenship papers with me and will find the little townland/bally where Aunt Sarah lived.

In the meantime, I’ll savor these little nuggets. If you’ve never seen them, you should. (Dare I say, even P.S. I love you?) Anyhow, p.s. I love Ireland. :}

And then, she...

2011-08-12T12:31:00.000-07:00

My relationship with swimming is a confusing managerie of conflicting memories. I have one memory of visiting a community pool and jumping off the high-dive in a rush of adrenaline, plugging my nose and making a splash. I have another memory of being in a pool for some unofficial swim lessons in which the teacher held my head under the water and I choked with terror. To be frank, I'm not sure which memory came first or how much of each memory is real and how much is emotional conjure. Since my parents took me swimming so infrequently (chalk it up to having a disabled brother?) I feel sure the number averaged less than once a year.

I went to college where a full-size olympic pool was available to me and I spent an entire summer trying to teach myself how to swim. I could float; I had a decent backstroke (that doesn't require putting your face in the water) and a pretty lame freestyle which would get me 1 lap. It seemed sufficient so I ended my pool experience. I had this joke with my friend. When people asked me if I could swim, I would say "Sure...for the first lap! The second lap, I flail, and the third lap, I drown."

My adult life has been spent "fo-swimming". Splashing around in some shallow surf or lounging around the pool at rare opportunities. The amount of time I spent in the water probably averaged three times a year; a small improvement over my childhood average.

Until now.

I forget how the conversation started (I'm a forgetter, remember? ;) but my bible study girls and I were discussing the ability to swim and we discovered that most of us didn't actually know how. Four of us, in fact, had the desire to really learn. All had, in some form, the same phobia of putting our faces in the water, noses unplugged. So when Lori discovered a two-week "adult swim lesson" class at a nearby pool for only $30, we took the plunge. Together.

And you know what? Three days into it and I can put my whole face in the water and move forward without plugging my nose or choking in terror. It's a small miracle, I tell you! I don't think I ever expected to have that ability in my lifetime. I'm serious. I thought plugging was the way it was gonna be. I would never do a triatholon, I would never rescue anyone or learn to surf or truly play in the ocean or win the Amazing Race or ever be eligible for Survivor. ;)

Now, I'm positivly inspired and empowered! Sure, I still haven't learned a single stroke. But I can put my head in the water! For long periods of time! And not drown! Rejoice with me, my friends! Skies the limit! I can almost swim! :D

more kitchen envy

2011-08-05T12:48:00.001-07:00

who knew that sage/puke green could look so good and feel so peaceful?! :P

Ketchup and Tax Dollars

2011-08-04T09:16:00.000-07:00

I hate eating a Yoplait yogurt to discover half of it is actually corn syrup. I hate how the non-dairy creamer for my coffee at work is 100% corn syrup solids. I hate making brownies with Ghirardelli chocolate knowing it’s at least half corn syrup. I hate dipping my fries in ketchup at chick-fil-a when a third of it is made from corn syrup. I hate eating the creamy coolness of Bryers and reading the second ingredient is corn syrup.

Corn syrup in moderation isn’t bad. But when 80% of various foods I consume is actually corn syrup, that becomes very unhealthy. I hate how difficult it is NOT to eat the stuff. Why is it so difficult to avoid? Because our tax dollars go to subsidize corn production, we produce more corn than we can use, so we have to creatively find a way to use it up.

Why do so many of our tax dollars go to produce a crop we don’t need? Plenty of other healthy alternative crops get less than a percent of the subsidies that corn does. Politicians give millions of dollars in corn subsidies to the agricultural companies who donated to their campaigns*. It’s also ironic that the former governor of Iowa (the largest receiver of corn subsidies) is a former employee of a major agricultural company and is now the USDA Secretary. It’s no surprise that the USDA does not fight for disclosure of GMO foods, the freedom to produce organic foods without paying hefty fees and the protection of seeds for human use (among other things like raids to small Amish farms and illegal seizure and confiscation of cheese without evidence of bacterial contamination, to name a few).

http://farm.ewg.org/top_recips.php?fips=19000&progcode=corn&regionname=Iowa
(Go to the homepage and notice the disclaimer which states that the numbers are inaccurate due to the USDA’s withholding of information.)

http://www.ewg.org/report/methodology-used-identify-members-112th-congress-receiving-farm-subsidies

* The 2010 Supreme Court decision in the so-called Citizens United case gave big corporations and billionaires the right to spend unlimited amounts of money (and remain anonymous, as they do so) to buy media coverage and elections.

But what frustrates me the most is that people who are struggling economically don’t take the time or care to know what their government is doing and so they suffer (physically too) unnecessarily because they choose to remain uneducated and inactive.

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/01/22/business/worldbusiness/22iht-wto.4296092.html

kitchen envy

2011-08-01T07:53:00.001-07:00

Less is more. I LOVE the uncluttered, light and airy feel of this kitchen. I often feel we have too much stuff for this kind of peacefulness to surround us.

My brain (or lack there-of)

2011-07-27T12:27:00.000-07:00

A co-worker said to me today, “That’s a cute blouse.” And you know what? I had to look down to remember what blouse I had put on this morning {insert incredulousness}.

The truth is I can’t remember anything. I never really could. I have vivid childhood memories of my mother chiding me to just “try!” If only I gave it some effort, she said, I wouldn’t forget so much.

Well, I’ve been making a colossal effort for thirty years now and my memory is only getting worse, not better. But I’m a functioning professional with a family and a college education. So how does that happen when you can’t remember anything?

The answer is self-imposed anal ness. People are often confused when they discover I am anal and forgetful. The two don’t seem to jive. But their marriage makes perfect sense to me. When I can’t make myself remember, I force my environment to remind me. I place papers just so, so they will catch my eye. I hang the calendar at head-level and write the spaces full. I’m particular about my filing system so that when I can’t remember where I put something, my options are clearly marked and everything is in relevant stacks and arrangements. Everything has a home. I put things where I will look for them. It’s a strange sort of way to get around my brain.

It gets complicated, however, when dealing with my husband because then I have words I’m supposed to remember. I’m not an audio learner. If I hear something, the chances of it sticking are zilch given my predisposition to forgetting. Unfortunately, the speaker then feels uncared for or not listened to. Actually, I’m not sure if the chicken or the egg came first. Is it because I’m not an audio learner that I forget? Or because I forget, I’m not an audio learner? You see, when things are written, I don’t have to remember because I can simply read and reknow. My husband isn’t so sure it’s not selective listening. After all, I remember what I say. But I don’t think he realizes how much I mark my calendar, or write a sticky note, or e-mail someone, or write my own thoughts down in a letter (confession, sometimes I make photo copies of those letters and reread them!) or a journal. This is probably the actual reason why I remember what I’ve said.

I mean, come on, why do you think I have a blog?
Well, now you know. :D

Austin Trip

2011-07-21T10:17:00.000-07:00

Bats fly out of the Congress Street bridge at sunset. We took a boat tour and had great weather! When there was no coffee maker, Sara improvised fabulously with a styrofoam cup and paper towels. It was REALLY good coffee!Tapas downtown. The girls and I had the perfect weekend combination of activity & rest.

Hiawatha

2011-07-21T10:16:00.000-07:00

"And the smoke rose slowly, slowly,
Through the tranquil air of morning,
First a single line of darkness,
Then a denser, bluer vapor,
Then a snow-white cloud unfolding,
Like the tree-tops of the forest,
Ever rising, rising, rising,
Till it touched the top of heaven,
Till it broke against the heaven,
And rolled outward all around it"

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

girls weekend

2011-07-19T11:24:00.000-07:00

Girls weekend was really fun! Hopefully I'll have some real pictures soon.

I wish my neighborhood/city was more accomodating for cyclists. Cars are often parked on the street and vehicles can barely pass each other. Throwing a bike in the mix is just dangerous, especially since drivers from these parts don’t tend to pay attention or be very curteous to those who bike. Oh well, perhaps sometime in the future, I can put my groceries in a wicker basket and pedal home. :-}

roadtrip!

2011-07-08T10:33:00.000-07:00

I think it would be completely awesome to buy a vintage trailer, revamp it, and drive across the country! Don't you? Especially if it looked like this:

summertime sampler

2011-07-07T08:19:00.000-07:00

Brilliant summertime music by Josh Rouse, now available for free download on Noisetrade.com.

I've got a backyard hammock that just calls to me when I hear this music.

hot and fiery

2011-06-30T09:08:00.000-07:00

My husband was reading a seed packet to me yesterday. Of the vegetable it read “Hot and fiery like August sunshine.” Isn’t that awesomely yet strangely poetic for a seed packet? Well, the June sunshine here has been pretty hot. Yesterday, we had to wait until 10:30pm before the temperature dropped below 90. What kind of weather is that?! It’s very difficult to get anything accomplished. Since our vehicle does not have air-conditioning, errands are always put off. Even inside the house, we languish, unmotivated to move, sapped of strength by the hot and wet journey to work and back each day. Apparently, I should never move to the desert.

I remember when...

2011-06-22T08:19:00.000-07:00

...we would do this. I'm watching from the shore the moment this picture was taken. I have to say that bridge jumping at night is a much scarier thing! :D

wend

2011-06-21T12:29:00.001-07:00

I sometimes (okay, often) fall victim to nostalgia. Those times when we cut roofs off of cars, drove into the random unknown, slept under the stars, tromped through the woods, swam in waterfalls, and were like one big motley family. We didn't play it safe back then, and sometimes I wonder if that isn't the best way to live.

angst

2011-06-10T07:53:00.001-07:00

When I walked into work in my new dress, my coworker asked “Did you make it?” She has every right to inquire since I talk about sewing often. The problem is, I’ve not sewn anything close to wearable. Angst.

I have some lovely vintage patterns and equally lovely fabric. I also have curves. Lots of them, in complete different proportions than these patterns allow for. So while it seems like I have all the tools I need to make pretty clothes, I don’t have the tools in my head (how exactly do you grade a pattern for an extra 5 inch difference between waist and hip?!!). I’ve tried desperately to find some intermediate apparel sewing classes but, though I live in a very large metroplex, all I can find are people teaching 1) quilting, 2) apron making, 3) super basic stuff I already know or 4) pillow or bag sewing using Amy Butler material (gag me! that stuff looks like a kaleidoscope puked on it!). And the week-long intensive sewing course I found cost more than my last car. Sigh. Oh the poor unrealized potential…

Tomato

2011-06-08T17:45:00.000-07:00

Among summer's blushing beauties, tomatoes are the sweetest. It's funny how, picked from straight from the vine, you can taste in your mouth how they are fruits. You can make a million meals following a simple rule: starch + tomato + herb + cheese/meat (optional).Toasted bread with tomato and bacon and lettuce or cheese and rosemary, spaghetti with tomato and basil and (fill in the blank), pizza crust with tomato and oregano and (fill in another blank). Even chickpeas or couscous with tomato and sausage or eggplant with tarragon, YUM! This version of starch+tomato+cheese came from a british baking book. I know it's british because they use liters and call cookies 'biscuits.' Here is the interpretation: tart crust with tomatoes and mozzarella.

squash

2011-06-01T09:55:00.000-07:00

Squash is one of my favorite plants. Taking just 8 weeks to harvest, it satisfies my impatient, instant-gratification tendencies :D. Since the laptop I've been using doesn't have linux (sob), pictures will not be forthcoming. This picture and recipe I found online and made yesterday with my newly picked squash. It was delicious!
Well, okay, I didn't really use the recipe, I more or less used the concept. I chopped up onion and bell pepper and sauted them. Then I added my grass-fed beef from Shady Grove Ranch (friends and neighbor-ish people of mine). Topped with some raw-milk cheese and whole wheat bread crumbs (home made bread is the bomb!), baked for 40 minutes on 350 and voila!

Squash is really easy to grow (and fast in a really sunny spot), but if you don't have marigold, basil, or other bee attracting plants, you can end up with unpollinated flowers and no squash. Squash bushes have male and female flowers. You can tell by looking closely which flowers are female, they have tiny little squashes underneath just waiting to grow. In the morning, when the flowers open, sometimes I'll take a q-tip, dab it in the pollen of an open male flower and then spread it around inside the open female flower. Voila number two! Pollinated squash (cue inappropriate jokes :D). It may be a crude method, but it works.

adventure

2011-05-27T07:56:00.000-07:00

Skyler and Nina are excellent hiking partners (they carry their own water supply). They are reliable protectors of the garden against nefarious skunks, squirrels and possums. They are good natured and, oh, also very cute. :-) The next big question is: are they ready for backyard chickens?!

Girls With Glasses

2011-05-26T08:31:00.000-07:00

There is a quirky duo with a new show (I haven't seen it) called The Girls With Glasses Show. Their photo shoot, however, I have seen and is stunning! I love their clothes and their glasses and their qcreativeness. As someone who has occassionally worn glasses, I appreciate the thrill of them. They make you feel smart and sassy. I'm glad someone out there is expressing this specialness artistically. They make me want to go have photo shoots with my friends (regardless of their eyewear status).

David!

2011-03-25T15:38:00.000-07:00

My nephew David is getting so big! I visited them over the weekend when they celebrated Diana's birthday (at a neon putt-putt place - which explains the freaky picture in the background). Must be a teenage thing. I have to admit, I never understood the allure of miniature golf. I'd rather have a picnic under a tree :}

pizza pizza

2010-12-08T11:12:00.001-08:00

The hard frost came and leaves withered to black despite the willing readiness of its fruit to stay. So I harvested a bounty of green tomatoes; far more than the totality of red tomatoes this summer. They look beautiful but are tart instead of sweet and the idea of frying all those tomatoes nauseate me. Our local farmer timely received a hormone/chemical free pig and luscious bacon was available. Cue recipe. Paring homemade wheat bread dough with blended tomato for sauce, onions, mushrooms, bacon and green tomatoes for topping and the result was culinary bliss. I wish I had a picture of the finished product. Hearty, warm, nutritious, filling, everything a winter meal should be. For better or for worse, I still have a whole bowl of green tomatoes left. I wonder how many pizzas I can eat this winter?

Spend your giving wisely

2010-12-02T09:21:00.001-08:00

I haven’t blogged much lately. Please chalk it up to basic lack of energy brought on by constant coughing, general sleeplessness and persistent feeling bad-itis. :}

I love good gift-giving (if I can be so trite: it’s one of my love languages). To me, good gift-giving is about the thought. When someone takes the time to think of me and get me something to bring me pleasure, that thoughtfulness is meaningful to me. I have felt the love of God expressed to me through the gifts of others. If someone just chucks a gift my way out of obligation, I’d rather not even have it. Or if someone spends lavish amounts of money to get me something they think is cool without considering my personality, again, I would rather not receive it. But often during this month on the calendar, good and bad gift-giving abound.

So what can I do? How can I show the love of God to others through gift-giving and not lose the meaning of Christmas to obligations, materialism, and bad financial decisions? I think a purposeful commitment to enjoy giving is a good start. Apart from the important, obvious, and necessary focus on the birth of Christ, I can keep in that Spirit by consciously giving how I ought to and refrain from giving how I ought not to (this last part is especially hard). Not giving some trinket to co-workers just because I feel obligated but sending care packages to orphans in Ukraine. Not mailing expensive gifts to family members just because they expect it but donating two chickens to rural families in India (for only $11, see gospelforasia.org). Not getting upset when someone gives me a thoughtless gift but giving thoughtful gifts I can afford to those I love. Not purchasing a Christmas tree when I’ll only be home to enjoy it for a week but sponsoring two angel tree kids.

In other words, I’m trying to be purposeful in how I ‘spend my giving’. This requires slowing down and thinking as opposed to rushing busyness. It takes commitment to express my values though they may be misunderstood. It take grace to receive and grace to give and let-go (instead of stressing over the “perfect” gift). I’m finding that gift-giving can supplement the true meaning of Christmas instead of replace it. And that’s something to be merry about :D

christmas

2010-12-01T17:24:00.000-08:00

Little boys love trains and little kids love Christmas and I love little kids. These kids are amazing! I'm glad I have friends who procreate :D

Thanksgiving

2010-11-29T11:21:00.001-08:00

Now that I grow a garden, purposely for the sake of sustenance, I read the Bible in a new way. Much of the language and analogies are agrarian. We often thank God for our existence in terms of the breath we wake up having but rarely in terms of the nourishment He provides for the continual working of our inner parts. Or for the nourishment of our souls through the friendships in which we partake. The Biblical authors were constantly praising God for they were aware of His constant grace toward them in sustaining their lives.

I feel that humans are very removed from the process of grace in every moment. Their thankfulness is only for the end result and I can understand how one would tire of thanking God for the same thing all the time. Salvation, shelter, food, friends: check, thank, and repeat.

When we look beyond the end result, suddenly the potential for our thankfulness explodes. The homeless man was able to get a bus ride to church and now we know him. He blesses our lives with songs of grace and joins in our feasts and we give him a ride back to the shelter and pray for the ability to see him soon. The rain that came yesterday kept the broccoli from wilting: we’ll have fresh veggies to aid our health. The delay of frost yielded an extra two lbs. of tomatoes: I will not have the worry of famine this winter. (Of course, I speak in Western terms. Elsewhere, many do have the burden of famine this winter because the rain didn’t come or the frost came early, etc.).

We exert an effort for very little. Is it any wonder then that we place very little credit at the feet of our Creator, and recognize Him even less? From food to friendships, our lives are so mechanized, there is not much real-ness remaining for which to be joyful or thankful.

Let me share something for which I will truly and deeply be thankful: the enabling of God to grow my food in a healthy way and eat it to maintain a healthy body and a healthy family. If S.510 passes Congress today, the ability to produce a living from growing that food will be greatly hindered and I may end up in jail if I try to do so (if you think this is crazy, I completely agree with you. Unfortunately, it’s already happening with frightening frequency thanks to the FDA’s massive abuse of power). So I am thankful today for this ability and freedom which may soon be gone. And I recognize that the only One who could save it is the One who has the power to change the hearts and minds of men. With the recognition that my life and my future is completely in His hands comes the recognition of true thanksgiving: a position of glad surrender at His feet: for what is, what has been and what will be.

sewing

2010-11-24T08:13:00.000-08:00

I’ve managed curtains, table runners, buttons, hems, and the occasional skirt. But bodices have eluded my sewing ability. Recently, I read in a book that Asians are better at math than Americans because they stick with a problem longer. They spend an average of 20 minutes more solving a mathematical problem than their US counterparts. In other words, they don’t give up easily and eventually get it. So I’ve determined to be more determined :}. I spent six hours working on a bodice this weekend and it still didn’t fit. Finally, I asked for help. An extra set of hands to pull extra fabric into the right place was telling – the pattern was simply too big. This whole time, the fit was poor because of a simple error. Distressingly, I looked at my stash of pretty patterns and discovered that they are ALL too big. So I’ve started from scratch. I took a ruler and drew new pattern lines an inch in from the original pattern lines (since I don’t want to throw out all my patterns). I believe I can get it – I can unlock the secret to getting a pattern to fit if I just stick with it. I hope I’m right because I’m sure spending a lot of time!

spur

2010-11-19T11:10:00.001-08:00

I’ve been feeling the creative bug lately. I just want to sit down and sew for hours or remodel my kitchen or paint something. I love these pictures, the traditional color and style of the wood with the modernity of simplicity. And of course, I love the copious amount of natural light.

Economics circa 1920

2010-11-18T07:30:00.000-08:00

“The health of the family, its education, its pleasures, its savings, are determined, not by the amount of that income, but by the distribution, or the spending of that income. Many families who today may complain of their low income are suffering frequently, not from a low income, but from mis-spending of that income. The whole standard of family living depends only on the apportionment or speding of what the family earns. Two families may, as often happens, have identical incomes; yet one manages to own its own home and send its children to college, while the other will be always on the brink of debt and unable to afford its children advantages. To save, to dimish the expenditure, is just the same as having an increase in income.”

Household Engineering, c. 1920

If only there was such wisdom in the masses of our current time.

pie in the sky

2010-11-15T17:02:00.001-08:00

My first ever apple pie. The crust was a pain to roll out so I thought for sure it would bomb but it tasted amazing! Best of all, it was made with local organic apples. Yumm!!

soup!

2010-11-12T07:52:00.001-08:00

Fall is the season for soups. I always ran into the problem of disliking soups and was left with little alternative this time of year. But now, with fresh organic veggies, food tastes SO different and my body can’t get enough soup! Full of nutrients, warm, easy to make and store, we’ve been souping it up like nobody’s business. I discovered multi-grain saltine crackers at the store. I had never seen them before and they are a revelation! They’re the same price as regular saltines, but tastier, with no ingredient change other than the addition of whole wheat flour. Hurray!

comfort food

2010-11-09T13:37:00.001-08:00

When the weather turns cold, one of my favorite comfort foods is quiche. And since I’m not a big potato eater (can you say starchy non-complex carbohydrates?), I turn to in-season zucchini. A little trick I’ve learned is that 1 cup of bisquick pancake mix will self-crust if you don’t have time to make your own crust. For the picture, I used Martha Stewart’s classic pate brisee. I have to admit that I don’t measure much with this recipe. It takes about two cups of shredded zucchini (after squeezing water from it), roughly 1 and a half zucchini, and the left-over zucchini I slice and place on top. About 2 cups shredded cheese, 3 eggs, and 1/2 cup milk, with spices all thrown in and cinnamon sprinkled on top. I took this to a baby shower this morning and it was a big hit, with not even a crumb left. Yumm!!

sneaky

2010-11-02T08:20:00.000-07:00

In the city where I used to live, there is a coffee shop called Sneaky Beans. I wondered about the name. It’s catchy but never made sense to me. Now, I have several bean stalks and I suddenly get it. Beans are very sneaky! I also understand Jack-and-the-Bean-Stalk in a way I never did before. Can you spot the sneaky bean below? I made it easy for you. :}

I love fresh green beans. I’ve been eating them raw, steamed, and steamed with extras (like onions, butter, and parmesan). Next year, I want double the plants so I have enough to give away. Our pastor is interested in gardening but didn’t have a good turn out with his own this year. So I tease him that I'm going to bring him our first fruits to eat as the tithe. :}

This last picture is pretty old but newly discovered on the camera. I spent a couple hours harvesting the compost from the worm bin. Wormies eat all our food scraps and give good fertilizer in the form of poo. Awesome huh? All it requires is a little digging now and again. It turns out worms are pretty sneaky too. :D

kitchen envy

2010-10-22T10:27:00.001-07:00

I wish my house had much more color. Renting has few drawbacks, in my opinion, but no painting is one of them.

Coming soon – a look at what I’ve been eating (which, surprisingly, my readers seem to like). Last week was full of soups made from fresh veggies of the season. This week, I made several huge meat dishes: perhaps unconsciously storing up fat in my body for a cold winter? :} Most likely, though, just taking advantage of some meaty sale prices.

club

2010-10-15T08:07:00.000-07:00

I wish I had a letter writing club. You would all be invited :}

2010-10-07T08:20:00.000-07:00

The theology of God as Creator is an important one. The implications are far-reaching and I keep bumping into them. Ancient scrolls of Hebrew historians trace lineage all the way back to the first man or, at least, the earliest man recorded in history (recorded as opposed to theorized on the basis of fossils). In these ancient documents, the first man is a created person not an evolved thing.

Think of any created thing. The creator has a purpose for it, a usage determined, a way to organize, store, clean, display, assemble, and a method to destroy. These boundaries for its existence can be followed or ignored. While a human is much more than a thing, our own awareness can sabotage us from the reality that our existence and the boundaries for it are set by someone other than ourselves.

What am I feeling? What am I doing in life? How am I to treat myself and others? How am I to live before I die? When Someone else has made you, submission is natural. You are not your own. When Someone else has made you, questions of who you are and what your purpose is have a definitive answer. They don’t get lost in the cosmos. They are personal questions asked by one person of the Ultimate Person.

If Creator God made everything, this sheds light on the utter arrogance it is to deny His existence. Did any of us form ourselves or decide when and where and to whom we would be born? No. Fallen humanity is rift with terrifying amounts of pride.

Political implications are everywhere. If one subscribes to God as Creator, than God’s descriptions of how His creation will act (self-govern) are guideposts for our expectations of how they will interact with laws, etc., (other-governed).

What can we expect out of life, out of ourselves? What can we control, what should we control, how should we control/not control? God as Creator has significant impact on all of these struggles. This framework has steered me clear of so many subtle influences about who I am or who I should be or how the world should operate. And I’m still learning from it.

I don’t have a good end, some snazzy way to wrap it all up. The more the theology of God as Creator is applied to what I face in my life or in the world around me, the more I get why the Bible starts with Creation as it’s opening statement. It’s slowly becoming the opening statement for my life as well.

harvest

2010-10-05T10:42:00.000-07:00

You’ve heard me mention before that root vegetables are in season: squash, potatoes, carrots. Well, I either didn’t plant any or our plants didn’t make it through the Texas summer with my less than perfect care :] so I don’t have much of a harvest at the moment.

My shinning star is the anaheim pepper plant. The snap-beans are just starting to produce and a small cherry tomato plant gives me a couple here and there. I did go on a cold-weather planting blitz today, despite lingering illness. Hopefully in November, right before the first frost, I’ll have lots of yumminess. In other news, here’s my wonderful clothesline at work :] The clothes smell SO fresh.

waiting

2010-09-14T12:59:00.000-07:00

I sat on the bed, struggling to think through the implications of a decision before me. I picked up my journal and wrote all my thoughts out, a stream of conscious sorting method that rarely fails me.

I know I’m derelict with pictures of life. I promise a remedy soon. Until then, the light in this picture reminds me of the setting sun on a bright winter afternoon. My friends have been nostalgic, and wistful, so I’ve got ephemeral company even though it’s sunny outside, hot and humid with heat index’s over 100 degrees; which is ironic considering my last post. :]

Do all good things come to those who wait? Does fall? Because I'm waiting...

windy gray

2010-09-03T09:32:00.001-07:00

Milky gray clouds cover the sky, the wind whips my hair into my eyes, I feel chilly goosebumps and a promise that summer is finally gone. I wish I could cozy up at home while open windows refresh. Or ride a bike and bake a cake and sew a beautiful shift from all that gorgeous fabric I’ve saved up. But I’m weak and lulled into tiredness. My body is recovering from violent recoiling and dehydration and fever. My stomach sends messages like “somehow shards of glass are in here” and I try to quell it with gatorade and apologies for eating the eggs. I long for tea. This is Sufjan weather and at least my ears are happy. :]

bookshelf envy

2010-08-30T08:41:00.001-07:00

I know I’ve been a little dried up lately. I just don’t have much to say. The thoughts I think have to do with gardening, menu’s, wishing my home was nicer, thankfulness that I don’t have to vacuum today, wondering if sewing is really worth the hassle or if I should just drop $40 bucks on a dress for work (though it irks me that I could probably reproduce it for $8 if only sewing prowess was magically imparted upon me). Daily things, insignificant things, things that take energy. Things that are pretty boring to write about.

I never realized how much I charged forward when I was younger. How, if I was feeling restless or wanted a change, I would simply grab it. I don’t think I practiced much forbearance during those free-falling years. Occasionally, it’s still hard to transition. It’s funny how thin the line is between being inspired by something you see or read (as I plow through Bryson’s travel narrative) and being depressed by it :}

Eat!

2010-08-08T15:14:00.000-07:00

I have a new Mediterranean cookbook with which I have since been experimenting. I’m not sure how it happened, but I at least five basil plants so linguine pesto was a natural choice for the inaugural recipe.

2 cups fresh basil leaves
2 cloves garlic crushed
1/4 cup pine nuts toasted (we used almonds instead)
1/2 cup grated Parmesan (PLEASE don’t use that cheap stuff in a plastic green container that is typically and irreverently tossed on spaghetti)
1 lb. Linguine (if it’s whole wheat, all the better!)
1/4th of a purple onion (I added this)
Shaved Parmesan for serving

I cooked the pasta al dente as directed but instead of a food processor (which I don’t own, and frankly, I’m fine with one less appliance) used the blender. The result was fantastic. As an aside, guess what I used as my backdrop for this picture? It’s probably not that hard to guess.

Don't you think the cookbook gets along nicely with it's new family? :]

The Other Side

2010-08-06T08:15:00.000-07:00

I know that the “grass-is-greener” tendency is a glaring fault of mine. I also know that perspectives born from this tendency are often skewed and unrealistic. But, in this case, if this lovely space was mine, I would definitely write more letters! :]

Happy Friday!

my nephew!

2010-08-03T09:39:00.000-07:00

Little David is so chill!

He was sucking on my arm in hungry shortly after this picture. Apparently, he was disappointed in me for not having any milk to give him :]

reading

2010-08-02T10:32:00.001-07:00

In between helping my friend move this past weekend and my brother move last weekend (can you say: tiring!), I’ve been coasting through my library stash. Issac’s Storm is fantastic! It is a compelling look at the hurricane which struck Galveston in 1900, to this day the most deadliest hurricane to hit the U.S., and how man’s ego, human error, national identity and historical meteorology all played a role. The book is not based on a true story – it IS the story, meticulously research and grippingly told. It’s All Too Much is a rare self-help book that’s actually interesting to read. Peter Walsh’s great personality comes through in his writting. I’ve kicked off a purging bin whereby I’m organizing, donating, and cleaning out the house! Couplehood was funny 10 years ago when I read it, but a second glance makes me realize most of the humor isn’t relevant (unfortunately). It would probably be funny to someone reading it for the first time, even with the age factor. Apartment Therapy is eye candy, pure and simple! My Bible Study group is reading a commentary on Romans (though, in the interest of full disclosure, this book is not from the library. I own it). And sewing couture was really boring. That’s all I’ve got for you until I get pictures of my nephew, garden, or latest cooking experiments.

forgive

2010-07-28T11:15:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, you come to a point when you realize your struggle is not with circumstance, need, or relationship but with sin. And when you come to know this, the battle is no longer a matter of the head but of the heart. When you know and you still struggle with the feeling or the act or the want, you don’t need someone to tell you it’s wrong. You don’t need correction, you need forgiveness. You need the grace and the kindness of God (Romans 2) to be shown to you by someone stronger than yourself.

I had a time of confession last night, first to other believers and then to God. Today, He demonstrated kindness toward me in a very tangible, mind-blowing way. And it’s not a reward for admitting to Him my sin. No, it’s His answer to my cry for help.

Praise be to God.

2010-07-26T10:20:00.001-07:00

I'm having a little case of kitchen envy today. :] I especially love the floors!

inspiration found: a love story

2010-07-22T11:49:00.001-07:00

For those of you who don’t know:

I don’t remember how I met him, only that we became fast friends. In those heady days of collegiate social craziness, I loved my sister tagging along. I was pretty self-absorbed so it was several years later that I stopped long enough to listen and realize she liked him. As one of my best pals, he’d been coming over for family Christmas’, game night, and just about every social function of which she and I were a part. We all went on road trips together. Summer things. Youthful things. Carefree things.

But she had a care, a deep care and I decided to do something about it. Sure, he could be my best bud and my stout boy-crazy heart wasn’t the least tempted, distracted instead with a series of entertaining boyfriends. My sister’s heart, on the other hand, was sheltered, wary, loyal, and didn’t heal as quickly (perhaps it was, in fact, more open than my own and thus capable of being broken in the first place). I asked him straight up if he liked her. He said no. I told him to stop being best buds with her. His niceness was fuel for unrequited feelings.

In all frankness, he didn’t listen to me and proceeded to be a jerk for the next five years (disguised as her best friend). I know she wouldn’t have had it any other way – that’s the one fault of her unending loyalty. They lived near each other, served the same youth-group together, had parties together and sat content in their deep abiding friendship. At least, he was content, and she was content for his benefit (because she’s a heck of alot more giving and a heck of alot less selfish than I am). And all the time, people saw and wondered and then fumed and finally, gave up.

I had been urging her to find another object of affection. She had, for a while, convinced me she was over him (I accepted this persuasion hoping to make it more true). He often fluctuated between niceness and absence; her friendship a steady rock he could reach for, unless he didn’t need it.

Finally, she gave up too.

Then he realized he loved her. He professed. But was it too late?

Too many stupid books and stupid movies have influenced us. Would she, like so many characters, let her damaged pride dictate her response? Would she make him wait, wonder, pay for nine years of easy singleness while she stood quiet and supportive, by him? Was her heart too broken, too hard, too bitter, too closed?

As much as we’d like to think movies like Pride and Prejudice are the ultimate love story – they are not. She lost and then loved but did not throw conditions upon a human love to feed the need of her own self (pity and pride). No. Humble acceptance with gratitude of the thing, with tainted past and imperfection, for which she had so longed: him.

At last.

that kind of day

2010-07-21T12:16:00.001-07:00

Some days, your only accomplishment is getting food on the table. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Chicken Breasts cooked (slowly!) in olive oil, sprinkled with Lowery’s seasoning, basil, and garlic powder, then chopped.
Bell peppers and mushrooms stir-fried in the left over chicken grease (is that gross?)
Pad Thai Noodles from a box with sauce from the same box (hey, boxes are handy sometimes)

oh july...

2010-07-21T08:55:00.001-07:00

I languish in July. The heat, the slowness of academia in my office, the weariness of being still and hot. By July, I’ve lost the dreamy ideals of summertime and yet find no promise of fall – August holds that promise – not July.

It’s the same way with February. I find myself dreary of the cold and rain and the optimism of coziness has vanished. Yet March holds the promise of spring, not February.

These are the months in which I consistently find myself void of energy and despairing of goals, hopes, and dreams. The hottest month and the coldest month are the last big hurdles, after a series of hurdles, to spring and fall. I’m running up to them on inspirational empty. It’s no wonder I stumble.

I’ve never been good at pacing myself and perseverance is not my strongest virtue.

“so let me tell the truth
let me come alive
let me build bridges
into your life
I’m sick of being born
again and again
i don’t need conditions to
let you in”
-aereogramme: barriers

last week's menu

2010-07-19T08:15:00.000-07:00

Creamy Chicken with Spinach

Pasta with Chicken, Tomatoes, and Feta

Roasted Carrot and Avocado Salad

Garbanzo Bean Burrito

I dream of having my garden to a place where, instead of the grocery store, I simply step outside :D

get away

2010-07-16T17:48:00.000-07:00

I long to get away, from the cold slabs of metal and the click click of the hospital hallway that I've been frequenting so much this summer. I remember this canyon, how beautifully lonely it was. How the wind was so fierce you could never tell if it was your friend or not. The same with the sun. No beeping, no monitors, no death, just lots of aliveness in the form of scrubby little trees and grasshoppers and beetles. Small things.

transit

2010-07-14T07:55:00.000-07:00

I struggle with the mass of strangers I pass by each day. To assume most need kindness is right. To ignore the evilness of man is foolish. Who among them means me harm? The first moment is not enough to tell. Would I cast pearls to swine to meet all strangers with kindness? Would naivity make me their victim? But I cannot be harsh to all – this world is harsh and to be harsh is to be of this world.

So I struggle.

And you, how do you respond to strangers? Cold & defensive, kind & open, suspicious, ignoring and dehumanizing? If it is with kindness and openness, how do you react to the ice-water shock when your openness is met with harshness?

In other words – how does one be in the world and not of the world? And why doesn’t anyone have a satisfactory answer to this question? It begs, as do most questions, a simple reliance on the Holy Spirit. But my controlling flesh really hates that answer. :]

How the garden grows

2010-07-12T07:40:00.000-07:00

Growing vegetables in the early morning light. Just beyond the tomatoes you can see Skyler (my trusty squirrel deterrent).

Growing outside is zucchini, watermelon, tomatoes, corn, basil, a pumpkin, some mini bell peppers, and amaranth – a leafy green that loves the heat and resembles spinach in taste. Pretty good for a rental yard, eh? Maybe one day I'll own some land...sigh...

It's Thursday

2010-07-08T08:30:00.001-07:00

I made this curry rice dish last night and it was really tasty. I used brown rice instead of white and should've cooked it in chicken stock (it was a little bland) but I'll do that next time. I cooked the brown rice in a separate pot and then about 10 minutes before it was done, threw it in the skillet with 1.5 cups of extra water. This was an easy way to use left-over shrimp in the freezer and utilize the prolific basil plant on my porch.

Along with the desire and determination to live more lady-like and enjoy my femininity to its fullest, I've also decided to be more vocal about my perspective on life (spiritually, politically, emotionally). I have a strange feeling that, in an effort to offend no one, we have lost our voice and the consequent ability to learn from each other. You're probably thinking, 'but SJ, you're vocal already.' Well, I know how many times I ponder certain aspects of life and never have the courage to address or discuss them. But I feel I'm missing out - and the women of my generation are missing out - on the powerful ability to help each other find clarity in the confusion around us and then encourage each other to act upon what we've learned: from God, friends, and life in general. Have we stopped sharing, stopped teaching, stopped learning? Maybe not... but some days, it sure feels like it.

I think perhaps the world envies me my womanhood.

2010-07-06T09:22:00.000-07:00

Isn't this one of the most beautiful dresses you've ever seen (though wearing it might be a bit too revealing, it is stunningly beautiful!)?

I have recently pondered femininity and its seeming resurgence. Activities like cooking, sewing, child-rearing, gardening, and decorating seem to have more subscribers than I remember. Fashions like vintage dresses are booming. The joy of being a girl and a woman is bursting forth onto many different secular scenes, appearing to be uncontainable.

I believe there is freedom in being a 'keeper of the home'. Much like an artist finds freedom of self-expression in a certain medium, women can find freedom by expressing their identity and values on the canvas of their home. I long for the satisfaction of organizing and keeping the home. Giving 10 hours of my day to a commute and office work is becoming harder and harder. Being a prolific blog reader, I now encounter the longing for this joy where once there was the flexing of the strong female arm in keeping up with Mr. Jones.

I'm not saying every woman is called to the home. But I have to wonder when the secular masses (and the products they buy) start expressing a longing for home economics & femininity. Is it a reaction to discovering the career-driven generation ahead of us are tired, burned out, and joyless? This brings me to a post I wrote over three years ago that still appears to ring true:

'My roommate and I were discussing themes we discovered in the writings of three females from the generation of women's rights (two were Christian). Two particular themes were taking care of yourself and despair. The last one surprised me in it's intensity. When the feminist movement took place, it was built on an already philosophical shift to modern thought which focused first on self. Such philosophy is reflected notably in Nora Ephron's book: I feel bad about my neck.
Thus, women started investing in their careers, divorcing their husbands, and making an amazing art out of parenting so that those who did stay home could justify child rearing by turning it into a veritable profession (Nora speaks of this in her book). They were "free" to listen to their wants and act on them. In fact, it was "right" to do this. Modern woman grew up saying and living by this mantra: 'listen to your body and do what it says'.
Sadly, that generation is getting old and facing death and what they communicate through books, movies, etc. is despair and denial. The natural outcome of their approach is a huge weight of responsibility on the individual for meaning in life. They spent their days listening to themselves and look back to find nothing and they can't even bear to look forward because they find nothing there either. It's depressing. Nora ends her book going from a paragraph on death to using her favorite bath oil. She comes right up to death but can't bear to go beyond it.
Christianity is shocking in comparison. We die to ourselves. We have hope instead of despair. We look beyond death. Even if our answers don't make sense to a non-Christian, at least they can see we're brave enough to ask. Nora's use of denial is unmistakable and glaring. And so I'm glad - glad that Christianity is shockingly upside down from modernism. "

God created the woman to 'help' and there we find a concentration on others instead of self. He created us with curves and beauty and not the strong arm of the male. We are not to keep up with Mr. Jones, we are reveling in being Ms. or Mrs. Jones (with all her womanly intelligence and strength). Importantly, we find the weight of meaning for life carried by the One who designed us. By acting according to His instructions we can live joyfully and die joyfully. This is shocking to the world and may be just the thing for which they truly long and deeply search.

picnic

2010-06-18T11:17:00.000-07:00

Summertime is here and to celebrate this with a picnic is very appropriate. Don’t worry about your Sunday nap – it can be had in the sun. Don’t worry about your Sunday brunch – it can be prepared on Saturday and chilled (is this not most biblical? :-) Don’t worry about your weekend dating, a picnic is sated with romance, alone or accompanied. Don’t worry about the dishes – nature will take back its own fiber plates soon enough. Don’t worry for time – leisure is your aim. Conversation is the order of the day. Don’t worry about your lack of red hair or basketed bicycle for I have neither and still fasten to the dream of picnicking. Ah – but I romanticize. Enough of that – where’s the bug spray??

waxing eloquent about...the weather

2010-06-18T10:57:00.000-07:00

What is it about weather that makes it a common bond of discourse among all men? The stranger on the bus, with which I share so few interests, can instantly be made a friend by remarking on the weather. “It would be a beautiful day if it weren’t so hot!” “At least there is a breeze!” “Yes, thank God for the breeze.”

When rain meant food on the table, the weather gave men a deeper connection: survival. This connection was spiritual, unprejudiced, and uncontrollable. Rain falls on the good and the evil, the poor and the rich. Weather was a leveler of men by the hand of God. Since we’ve killed God (according to Nietche) weather is only a leveler of men. Yet, by that very fact, we hear whispers of a gap - the uncontrollable Origin denied.

I love the weather. It’s not the enthusiastic predictions by my father in the early years and the anticipation he created, nor those moments clinging to the mast of our oak while a thunderstorm tossed me with the breath of cool mist, it is that recognition of a force totally unaffected by any of man’s scheming. We can only react and never resist.

Despite those early encounters, I was never aware that weather was a profession until my course was set toward other work. But I am not tempted to meteorology. I don’t want to understand everything materially possible about the weather. I know satellites and radars help prevent deaths so I’m grateful for their place, but prediction feels like a hollow attempt to control what is not ours. Like a dance off beat, man’s movement with the weather minus God, is odd and somewhat sad.

I have a garden and it is dry. My rain barrels are empty and I pray for them to be filled. My vegetables are sparse, small, and bitter. And I know now, in a way that I did not before, that God feeds me everyday. The weather is the movement of His living hand sustaining the world, undimmed by men, ever witnessed yet never acknowledged. The mystery of it draws me.

politics

2010-06-14T09:24:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's that time again - for sj to go all political in her post :].

I have been sympathetic to the plight of Palestinians much as I am toward Afghans and Iraqis and all civilians caught in the middle of wars decided by their leaders. When I listened to NPR on the way home from backpacking Sunday, May 30, I heard Greta Berlin, organizer of the flotilla describe her organization's unwavering goal to break the blockade. When asked by the interviewer why she did not accept Israel's offer to deliver the supplies after inspection at a port designated for humanitarian aid into Gaza, she responded that her goal was to not simply transport supplies but to break the blockade.

I think Israel poorly executed the raid on the flotilla. However, they were within their legal right to stop the ships. A blockade is a viable military alternative that American has employed against Japan and Cuba and the international law which governs conflicts at sea was not violated. If a vessel ignores all warnings and willingly sails into an existing blockade, it is an offensive action, and defensive actions by the blockading country should not come as a shock to anyone.

The blockading nation, under international law, can request an approaching vessel to stop for inspection. If the vessel does not comply, it can be subject to capture. International law does not allow for the boat to be sunk, but it can be attacked if it resists capturing.

I'm really sorry for the Palestinian people. I believe they are probably living in poverty but I'm also sure that the truth is not as easy as blaming Israel. Hamas is considered to be a terrorist organization and could very well be responsible for most of the poverty in the country it controls. But let's cut the hypocritical talk about war crimes and the sense of indignation that a country had the balls to defend it's own border. We would have done no less (in fact, we probably would've done much more) if someone tried to break a blockade we set up or if a neighboring country declared itself our enemy and lobbed rockets at us.

love

2010-06-08T09:11:00.000-07:00

My sister marries this Saturday. My brother arrives today. My parents arrive Wednesday. The calendar is filled so the blog will be sparse.

I am reading The Kings English (1908) and am challenged to brevity in my writing. This challenge may be difficult to meet since I’m prone to loquaciousness. The English language is ever mutating and I don’t want to contribute to the proliferation of meaningless, unclear, or wasteful words. But I probably do and probably will continue. Still, I like reading the book and I like the challenge it gives me.

I took more pictures of Megan. Some nurses make comments about my attachment to her, rightly insinuating that it will be difficult for me when she goes home. I will be very glad when she goes home but also sad to not hold her or sing to her everyday. I may be projecting but I wonder if there isn’t also an insinuation, wrongly, that I should guard against developing a strong attachment to her. I can’t help but think of John 3:16 paraphrased: for God was so attached to us that He gave the life of His Son so He could be attached to us forever [even though most of humanity willingly rejects the attachment]. That little girl needs to be held and loved and I am in the honored position of doing both for a little while. So will I do, without regard to the painful ending (for me) that is sure to come. And I will be deeply thankful for the honor.

Maybe I'm bored but this was so FUNNY to me:

2010-05-27T11:17:00.000-07:00

salad

2010-05-11T07:35:00.000-07:00

Fresh greens from my garden = yummy salad with spinach, lettuce, beet leaves, carrots, and beets.

faith

2010-05-07T09:05:00.001-07:00

I said a few words at a memorial Wednesday. The last time I did that was 2002 for Becca G. I visited Connie's home and we talked of Elizabeth's death. The last time I visited her was 2005 and we were speaking of Nancy's death.

There is no comparison. When you live through an event so different, so full, it takes awhile to find words that fit. I can't comprehend the loss of a spouse.

I didn't have a four year old look up at me and say, "My mommy died" and struggle to choke out the words "I know, honey."

He taught me something, that little boy. We talked of sadness and missing her in short sentences before things like playing and drinking distracted him. His life is shattered by the loss much more than mine but he doesn't cry. He doesn't blink. He solemnly addresses the matter and with all faith that life will be okay, he gets up and moves forward. It's not naivety, it's simplicity because he's right. His life will be drastically different but it will still continue. We adults can't stop the chaos inside that constantly screams - how can things go on? He taught me to remember the faith I once had. Though it comes harder now, it can be simple again. It needs to be simple again.

In the face of death, faith is the only way to keep living.

bye-bye

2010-05-03T08:22:00.000-07:00

I'll fly away
Oh glory
I'll fly away
When I die
Hallelujah by-and-by
I'll fly away.

Elizabeth passed away this morning. I don't have much to say. The peace which passes all understanding still doesn't negate the pain.

Please Pray!

2010-04-28T07:36:00.000-07:00

My friend Elizabeth, wife and mother of three, goes into surgery at 1:00 p.m. tomorrow (Thursday) to remove a carcinoid (cancer) tumor for her lung. The doctor's were originally hoping to delay the surgery because she's six months pregnant with her fourth and her baby's lungs aren't quite developed. But after testing, they've determined the tumor needs to come out as soon as possible (spots on her liver have been discovered). She's on steroids to help the baby's lungs develop in case she goes into labor during the surgery. Please pray for safety for both Elizabeth and her baby Megan. I was able to visit her briefly in ICU a couple of days ago and she was in good spirits but this is probably very scary for her family.

Thank you my friends!

canoe

2010-04-26T17:31:00.000-07:00

Since Texas doesn't have much topography, but we have a lot of lakes (all man made, admittedly) canoeing is our substitute for hiking. ;} The view from where I sit:

I have good friends.

Mulligatawny what?

2010-04-24T19:20:00.001-07:00

Soup, to be precise. I arrived home Friday, after a very long day at work, and enjoyed a simple, tasty, nutritious meal. Mulligatawny soup was brought back by the English from India in the 18th century. It boasts of curry, lentils, cloves, chicken, raisins, and rutabaga. From scratch it is, in a word, fabulous!

random update

2010-04-22T11:49:00.000-07:00

Super busy times at work recently. Lots of dissertations from graduating students to ferry around – from students living in New Zealand to readers at Duke in North Carolina, there is much to keep up with! My lower back has been bothering me for three days now. I’m ready for some relief but I have not the faintest clue what’s causing the pain.

As I type, e-mail, file, call, sign, and print, a steady stream of these people keep me company. Happy Thursday! Graduation is just around the corner…

reading

2010-04-20T11:16:00.001-07:00

The train is where I write most of my posts: in my head while the scenery whizzes. Recently I haven’t been thinking or looking out the window and consequently no new posts have been constructed. I have been reading. Leaving the current world behind, I enter one far away in time, space, and essence.

Long ago, in response to a catalyst I can’t remember, I bought and read East of New York, West of Kabul which remains one of the best books I’ve ever known. A seed was planted, one of interest and wonder about the subject. I’m watering the seed now with borrowed books from the library (I love the library!) I finished Kabul Beauty School and am currently midway through An Unexpected Light. I’m pretty sure they’re both overdue :] The first takes place in 2003 after the Taliban were dethroned and the thick verbose Unexpected Light takes place before the Taliban but after the Russians withdrew. The two books present an interesting contrast with snapshots of one country in different times. But they also provide a gender contrast. The book written by a woman gives us the world of women and the book written by a man gives us the world of men. Aside from the family unit, these worlds do not collide. Two different authors, two different decades but the divide remains the same.

As I discover the history of this land rich in beauty, culture, and struggle, I’m fascinated by a legacy that never reached the future. The ethnic and gender divide was not so sharp as it is now. [though there is always struggle in every land between tradition and non-tradition] In the 1960’s, before the Russians ravaged the land girls could wear nail polish, be educated, interact (veiled not burqa’d) with men, etc. People helped each out regardless of ethnicity. There was a unity and progression from the grassroots that existed…until Russian trampled the hell out of it and we left them high and dry. Idealogy was lost when several generations were killed, unable to pass along to their children the legacy of their heritage.

What have you been reading lately?

sewing

2010-04-05T11:27:00.000-07:00

I might as well come clean: I have a sewing complex.

I troll the sewing blogs and internet stores for fabric and patterns. A pile slowly grows next to my desk with each new little purchase. I read tips about making a muslin and sewing an invisible zipper. I wonder if I should purchase a serger; I eye my scissors knowing they need sharpening and my machine knowing it needs cleaning. I hand-stitch a stray button here and a ripped hem there. For a Christmas present, I sewed my a table runner that required, oh, four seams.

But I rarely actually sew.

I could argue that my kitchen table is too small and my coffee table too low. But the truth is that I’m paralyzed by the thought of all that effort resulting in a crappy product. Right now, there’s unrealized potential instead of disappointing failure. And it’s so tempting to reside in the potential zone rather than the failure zone.

Yet, when I gaze at a beautiful $78.00 dress online, I know that I could probably attempt at least 12 dresses for that same price and certainly, the twelfth time is bound to be good right?

Oh! fear of failure, will you never leave me?

a bit of everything

2010-03-31T08:08:00.001-07:00

So my notebook is filled with pages of thoughts and notes on healthcare, scribbled in the moments on the train when I actually have time to think. I’m too tired, though, to organize and present it thoughtfully. Maybe soon. In the meantime, the economist magazine had a good write-up on the bill. They stated succinctly that the bill’s strength is its coverage (eliminating difficulty for those with pre-existing conditions to get insurance and creating subsidies for those who can’t afford insurance) but its weakness is cost control (premiums will go up, higher taxes, etc.) My thoughts on the matter have more to do with the nature of government. It is not a non-personal entity with money to spend. Government is one man governing another man (a biblical concept). Most of my questions come in to play with the “how” man governs another man who has ceased to govern himself (poor spending, working, exercising, and eating habits).

There you have most of the concepts and thoughts I’m working through. Even though I haven’t written much about it, I’ve been thinking much about it and so feel the need for a break and for some inspiration.

I went to a bookstore yesterday and read some fun books on sewing and baking. Then I wrote out a “not-my-hobby” list. This may seem silly but I get distracted by things for a while, immerse myself in them, eventually get bored, and then return to my real hobbies, sad that they’ve been neglected. So to keep myself on track and less wasteful with my time, I had to create a reminder of what wasn’t my hobby. :] Besides wishing for more time and more sleep, I’m feeling a bit nostalgic. Mostly for trees. That seems random, I know. But I practically lived my whole childhood in a tree. Perhaps it’s all those complex thoughts on government which leaves me longing for simplicity.

That’s my scattered post for the day.

What's your name?

2010-03-19T07:57:00.000-07:00

With Cynthia gone, I now have a bus ride full of silence. Though I miss our discussion on theology, God, and race, I've been picking up my Bible and reading the psalms. Last week, the Asian guy who always rides along sat down behind me. We'd never talk previously because I was always talking with Cynthia. This time, he saw me reading my Bible and asked if I was a Christian. Startled at such a straight-forward question, I gave him a straight-forward answer: "yes." Then I felt free to ask him, "are you a Christian?" He said, "no". I smiled at him and there was no awkwardness. (good sign!) He got off right after that brief exchange. Interestingly, I haven't seen him since but at least I got his name. I've found that knowing people's name is one of the easiest ice-breakers. Cynthia and I got started because I asked her name one morning instead of just walking by (she was the bus driver) and started out each day with a "Good morning, Cynthia." I miss her but feel a strange closure. The couple months of discussions we had held a good purpose for us both. Now, perhaps, the door is open for some discussion with Mr. Hwang. Who knows? :)

reminiscing

2010-03-18T08:27:00.001-07:00

I’ve taken to reading old backpacker issues on the train and it’s not the greatest idea. Now, I’m SOOO restless and practically tortured by not being outside! Maybe I’ll use my monthly blow money to complicate the situation and get another subscription :). Oh – reminiscing…

yummy

2010-03-16T09:48:00.000-07:00

The crock-pot is often my culinary saving grace. I stole and simplified this from crockpot 365.blogspot. I really like this recipe.

Spring!

2010-03-09T09:38:00.000-08:00

The sun is out so I’ve been spending more time doing and less time blogging. It’s nice :) Some of that doing includes re-arranging my entire kitchen shelf: a huge but useful contraption that holds all my pantry items and most of my cook/bake ware. The container store was quite helpful in the rearrangement. Things now look much nicer and are easier to reach. I was going to take before and after pictures but when I grabbed the camera it was dead and I couldn’t locate new batteries. Oh well. The project also included sweeping and mopping behind the stove. So much satisfaction comes from sitting at the table knowing all the hidden spaces in your kitchen are devoid of crumbs and dirt. With the refreshing feel came urges to bake so I whipped up some banana bread and peanut butter cookies.BUT there’s alot more to be done in my kitchen. I’m following along with apartment therapy’s Kitchen Cure series full of good tips on organizing and cleaning. Time to banish all those spices you never use and donate those duplicate utensils and pans. I’ve already got a big bag slated for goodwill. Too bad I can’t manage to install some new flooring or paint my cupboards while I’m at it…

While the sun inspires my cleaning and organizing, it also inspires planting.

Welcome Spring! We like you! Please stay…

serious thoughts

2010-03-05T08:26:00.001-08:00

I want to write about sweet whimsical things like the sun shinning and friday’s promise of a nearing weekend but all I can think about is the picture of my conductor standing on the platform with blood gushing from her hand as the train pulled away.

Arguably, the train should have had a first-aid kit. But she was standing there alone while a train load of people peered out the window at her and that doesn’t seem right. Why didn’t I step from the crowd and the train to do something? I could’ve grabbed the blouse from my bag to press on the wound; I could’ve thought to carry a first-aid kit (I probably will from now on), I could have stayed with her until help came.

I’m sure Cheryl will be fine, some stitches, maybe surgery, maybe an IV to combat the blood loss. But I can’t help asking myself: why didn’t I act? Moments like these come and go so quickly, I want to be ready. I don’t want to be left behind holding only my regret. I’d rather be holding a bloody blouse.

I’ve lived long enough to know that everyone will find themselves in an extraordinary moment. I’ve had a space shuttle explosion wake me up, a hurricane destroy my neighborhood, a twister take off my roof, and an elderly lady falter on the steps in front of me. Today reminded me to be vigilant for those moments and to have a spirit of willingness so that in whatever comes next I will not hesitate nor be afraid.

~never settle~

snow

2010-02-15T09:03:00.000-08:00

Good morning! 12.6 inches! Oh, and a fallen branch across my yard. err :/

At least there is still power [and powder! ;-]

weather

2010-02-10T11:42:00.000-08:00

I check the weather more than any person I know. It's true, I love the weather. So when I saw this, I was delighted!

Move over Jim Cantore, this might just be my new favorite weatherman. :] Too bad he doesn't live in Texas.

mr. cellphone, please go away

2010-02-04T12:05:00.001-08:00

I know it’s not really your fault, but I hate you anyway. You destroy my weary down time on the train, my peaceful reflections at the coffee shop, and my lovely moments at home. You bring me tidbits of news I don’t care to hear. You bring them to me indirectly, ’tis true, but still…I don’t care to know that Sally is mad at Melissa’s mom and if you, Mr. cellphone, would simply die, then Bill would discover how readily he could wait to see Sally and fill her in. But, I betray myself. I do use you in my capable hands, nearly everyday, to fulfill your design. Still, I don’t feel offended when I encounter voice-mail (awkward perhaps), I don’t utilize your microphone when confined in a small space with strangers, I don’t surf the web with your tiny screen, I don’t push your buttons incessantly while avoiding surrounding opportunities to be aware and courteous. Perhaps I underutilized you; yet, I feel confident in expressing my hatred. While I may use a few of your functions in certain circumstances, this means only a mild enjoyment of something which loosely resembles you. That is all.

No, there is no love here, Mr. cellphone. Please move on.

~notes from the train~

MLK day

2010-01-22T10:30:00.000-08:00

Growing up in the ghetto, I don't think I really have a concept of race. I don't remembering ever noticing if someone was Hispanic or African-American as a child. I have one memory of when an older gentleman visited our house and used the n- word. Later, our mother admonished us harshly to never use it because it was a disrespectful word and we were never to call anybody by that term. I chucked it into the bandwagon of other terms (such as cop instead of policeman) that we were never to call someone out of respect.

When I moved to Mississippi as an adult, my awareness of racial distinction grew sharply. Suddenly, it didn't feel like a natural assumption that you would treat everyone the same. I wasn't sure how to operate in the new environment but I slowly realized that it's important, not just to treat everyone as valuable, but to voice that value. And so I decided to write this post.

I used to think MLK day was for my African-American friends to celebrate a man who fought for their freedom, much like I celebrate Veteran's day or Reformation day. But I realized this year that I have alot to celebrate too. I have the priviledge of being friends with many wonderful African-Americans who have contributed so much to my life. Several generations ago, that may not have been possible - or rather - it was possible, but I may not have recognized it as a priviledge (I shudder to think of that). I have been blessed with the wisdom, intelligence, humor, care and love from so many whose heritage is that hardship. If I think of my life without those relationships, it would be full of holes. Just like I am greatful for mighty men like John Adams, who through immense hardship fought the British and won for me so many things I now enjoy, I owe deep gratitude to the parents and grandparents and great-grandparents of my friends. They endured immense hardship for the freedom I now have to work and play and laugh and cry and live with those whose skin color happens to sun-burn a little less readily than mine but whose hearts inspire me in countless ways. Thank you, my friends.

So from now on, when MLK day comes around, I'm gonna celebrate! :)

wish list

2010-01-19T09:02:00.001-08:00

I know Christmas is over but since each new year inspires dreams, here's a corresponding wish-list:

My childhood memories are proliferated with hanging loads of laundry outside to dry. Being outside was the best part: swatting summer honey bees, rescuing fistfuls of shirts from a sudden spring thunderstorm, and taking turns warming our wintry hands under the dryer vet before reaching again for the clothespines (I don't know why we didn't have gloves? or why the dryer was running while we were hanging up clothes...).

I'm a bad photographer. I miss analogue. Perhaps this little beauty could solve two problems with one click.

The Stylish Dress book (written entirely in Japanese) is full of easy and pretty patterns and is taking the u.s. sewing blogger world by storm. A hard-to-find copy was spotted on etsy. I'm not linking to it - back off, it's mine... someday. :]

garden

2010-01-14T10:38:00.000-08:00

JANUARY GARDEN CALENDAR:TEXAS

Water outdoor plants in the absence of rain, and especially when freezing weather is expected. Well-hydrated plants are more likely to survive severe temperatures. Water holiday gift plants with care.

Check the soil before watering to make sure it is dry and to avoid drowning plants. Allowing these and other houseplants to dry out between waterings will help prevent or control fungus gnats.

Finish tulip and daffodil plantings. Plant the bulbs at a depth of two to three times their width.

Plant fruit trees. Choose well-adapted varieties, and plant at least two varieties of most apples and pears for maximum fruit production.

Early in the month, turn under clover and other green manure crops in the vegetable garden so that the soil will be ready for planting next month. Even if you haven't planted a green manure crop, till the garden to expose overwintering insects.

Add fresh manure to the vegetable garden soil to allow for decomposition before planting time.

Outdoors, plant cold-hardy color, such as dianthus and pansies.

Indoors, sow seeds of petunias, alyssum and other spring-blooming annuals to be planted outdoors later.

Prune trees as necessary to remove broken, rubbing or overlapping limbs. Also remove limbs that are hanging too close to the house or walkways. Make judicious cuts to maintain the tree's natural shape.

Plant grapes and blackberries. Consider planting them along a fence as an easy way to provide support.

Transplant native plants while they are dormant.

Move trees and shrubs within the landscape. Perhaps you have plants worth saving that have outgrown their current locations. As you transplant, strive to move the plants to sites with the proper light conditions and adequate space for their mature sizes.

Have lawnmowers serviced.

january...

2010-01-05T12:24:00.000-08:00

...is here. As months go, its normally pretty good. I've found the high of Christmas tapers off as the lights go down but resolutions and dreams of change fuel the next treeless four weeks. December is so busy that the stillness of January is restful. February, however, always looks dour. The resolution turns to disillusion, the stillness to wistfulness, the gray from restful to aching. But while its January I'm resolving to have a cleaner house, fuller mail box, and more posts. And I'm wishing you a Happy New Year. :] Picture from aprintaday.com

hello?

2009-12-30T07:57:00.000-08:00

Is anyone still there? Just curious. The transition to a new blog was hampered by...oh... moving multiple times, adding a two hour commute to each work day, etc. I think many of you got lost along the way and, understandably, abandoned ship (quick! she's sinking! :). Does this blog decay happen to most girls as they get older (more responsible)? Is it a trend? Hey! That would mean I'm actually trendy :]