Ramona Update - Independence Day

Here's a very important collage I made about Ramona's reaction to fireworks.

 

 

Puppy can't be bothered.

A Pie Story - In Photos

It was a beautiful night.

So I decided to make a pie. Obviously.

Check out my first ever homemade pie crust, crimped edges (sorta), and decorative vents!




Drum-roll please............

My first galette

I'm super proud of my first galette.

kale!kale!kale!

I love my greens.

garden bouquet

Cosmos, Black-eyed Susan, echinacea, sage and dill gone to flower.

It's very simple, I know.

But, it makes me very happy.

rabbit, rabbit, rabbit

The first day of July.

I started the day by saying out-loud: "Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit."

It's good luck you see. The kids at the farm taught me to start each new month by saying these words. The key is to have no other words leave your mouth before you utter the magical "rabbit, rabbit, rabbit." Doing so will guarantee good things happen throughout said new month.

Though I can't say definitively how my months that started with "rabbit, rabbit, rabbit" compare to months that started with other words, I can say that the months I have remembered to say these words I feel a certain, simple joy. Saying these words connects me to the farm, the kids, and my time there. I always chuckle that 7 years later (and not so far off from my 30th birthday) I still find it perfectly acceptable to honor this juvenile tradition.

Today, however, uttering these words connected me to the literal friend waiting for me outside my back door.

The rabbit, rabbit, rabbit that eats my garden, garden, garden.

I hope this month's chant isn't some sort of prophesy.

Pause. Enjoy.

A few things I've paused to enjoy as of late:

1 & 2. An amazingly healthy garden at an East side restaurant. Very inspiring. Also: enviable. 

3. Some gigantic basil from my old CSA farm. Which produced the season's first pesto batch!

4. Lupine! Always the best. 

5. New teatowels. Why not?

6. Okay, allium is also the best. 

7-9. Peony blooming in my secret garden.

great things are happening

1,000 Words: 2 Blooms

1,000 Words: to opening and upward

Chasing the Light

It all started a few weeks ago.

A few weeks ago I met a group of friends at the local just-a-little-over-a-dollar theater, to catch the afternoon showing of a well-reviewed documentary. Two hours later as the credits rolled, my friends dispersed back to their respective Sunday afternoons, except for me, Julia, and Dan. And conveniently, for us lingerers, just across the way was a small wine bar, opening in 5 minutes.

When the friendly barista unlocked the door five minutes later, we took seats at the countertop at the window, in order to watch/soak in the fading daylight. Squinting because the sun is in my eyes - after a seemingly endless winter of rare & fleeting sunlight - is one of my most cherished signs that winter is transitioning into spring. You will find me in hallways at work, next to our floor-to-ceiling glass windows, chin skyward, eyes closed, sun dappling my happy face.

Back at the bar, our perfect little flights of wine  arrived. And I began to chase the light.

This first moment of beautiful sunlight led me to others.

A morning of sunlight, blinds wide open.

(Do you see the rounded diamond of blue, faintly encircling the light spilling in through the window? It delighted me.)

Another morning, I noticed what half-closed blinds created.

Raindrops of light almost.

Yesterday though, I arrived home from work, to a gift of light throughout my downstairs. The glass in my front door seemed to be the culprit for the rainbows of light hitting every surface they could find.

Sunday, Sunday, Stream of Consciousness Sunday

The day, stream of consciousness and run-on style: 

Early wake-up, off to church through the bitter cold, I listened as our minister Justin urged us to explore the question of "callings" - our true purpose and life's work - a subject on my mind of late, then I drove in meditative silence until home was back on the horizon and joined my roommate in a deep scrub of the entire house as public radio programs drifted through the hallway. This was followed by a deliberate stroll through the local Co-op where, despite my deliberateness, I forgot the main ingredient for my lentil soup and so instead made my first-ever/inaugural batch of bran muffins and extremely garlicky hummus, while sipping on a very-special-treat-imbulse-buy Cream soda. When Joseph's name appeared on my phone, I rejoiced and taste-tested a warm bran muffin - slathered with overpriced (but delicious) butter - and listened as he too gave me something like a sermon on purpose and calling. I also learned he, like me, loves bran muffins and I made a mental note to finish up that care package ASAP - packed full of books and bran muffins. After our typical drawn out goodbye (which I cherish), I enjoyed a piece of toast with the same ridiculously good butter, some sliced-up radishes, and a pinch of good salt: a small dinner before a large dessert of frozen yogurt with Julia, followed by meditation at the nearby center, followed by a warm bath with ginger-geranium scented bubbles, where I looked upon three candles and a favorite picture of me standing solidly at the edge of the ocean at four, and listened as my house creaked and groaned ready for spring, ready for the windows to be thrust open, and the fresh air to blow through.

Winter Self Portrait

It's bone chillingly cold here, so I am taking thermal photos to remind myself of the warmth within.

I think they look pretty interesting.

Also:

My nostril has some heat.

I don't always look this surprised.

When I'm not confused by technology - aka 99% of the time - I am smiling. Therefore, this could also be called "Atypical Self Portrait."

1,000 Words: Little Hand-prints

Nicole sent me this photo of the back of her couch, littered with evidence of my favorite baby. He's discovered the hand-print:

I see the writing on the wall. Evolution is alive and well.

1,000 Words: Grandma Bernice

1,000 words: joy

This kid gets the meaning of life.