a smaller life

so soon?

On my way in from this morning's run I noticed that our tomatoes are begining to arrive. It seems so early for that sort of thing, but I've such a black thumb; I could be wrong. I'm terribly excited about them already, whispering welcomes as I water them, wondering if it is cruel to be kind to something I'm so looking forward to eating.

That is all.

 

 

the importance of ritual

In my oven right now is a tray of the most amazing tomatoes- some from a friend, some from our garden, all local and home- grown. I'm oven drying this bunch, which is a day- long process that makes the entire house smell like heaven. I threw in some garlic for a little while there, too, just to have some roasted garlic on hand. I've spent the whole day just sniffing the air and rubbing my stomach.

Drying tomatoes is a cinch: halve the tomatoes, remove the seeds/ guts (if you want to- this isn't mandatory if you're packing them in oil), lay on a cookie sheet and drizzle lightly with olive oil, salt, pepper, and just a hint of thyme. Put it in the oven for about 6 hours or so at your lowest setting- 125 or thereabouts. I'll be packing mine in oil, so I'll take them out of the oven just a little bit early, while they still have a little juice to them, then I'll quickly dip each tomato in white vinegar, then cover those and some fresh garlic cloves with good olive oil in a mason jar. Voila! Oven- dried tomatoes and tomato- infused oil, for no money and almost no work.

These little things- my weekend cooking expeditions, our Sunday brunches, putting together our shopping lists and planning projects for the next seven days- this is everything that matters. Tonight we will have dinner, do laundry, change our sheets and pretend to seriously consider staying up late to watch Mad Men- it's so good! In the end, we'll DVR the show and watch it tomorrow night, opting for sane, very grown- up 9:30 bedtime, which is full of it's own small routines.

I love our little rituals; they keep me grounded in the here and now, in what we are and how we live. It is easy to be here now when the now that we have created is full of the small pleasures we've placed throughout our day: good clean food, public radio, dedicated knitting time, joint efforts, reliable routines. It absolutely is all in the small things.

small battles

The squirrels are gathering acorns from the oak that stretches over our back porch. I'll catch them perched on the back railings, suspiciously close to my dying yarn, nibbling.  I worry about one stealing a skein for a nest; I catch them out back and wave my arms, yelling "Aeeeeaaaaaw, aeeeeeaaaaw," like a madwoman. Oh, what the neighbors must think.

Every so often, they'll drop an acorn on the metal awning by my studio and scare the hell out of me. This one landed on the porch, between drying racks, like a warning. It's a war, me and the squirrels.

my favorite part was when the building fell down

This week has been about destruction. Demolition, specifically.

When we bought our house, it came with two outbuildings- one small shed in the middle of the yard and a two- car garage made out of cement blocks, circa roughly the 1940s. This is a classic Baltimore sort of structure- cheap to make, very utilitarian, and if built correctly nigh- on indestructible.

Ours wasn't built correctly, more's the pity. The footings gave out a few years ago and it has been steadily sinking, the rear right corner especially sloping back to the earth. It was covered in ivy- the only thing I think was holding it together- and it was full of random crap from the previous owner. Oh, and bees. There were a lot of damned bees in there, too.

It was an eyesore, putting it lightly. Behold, the horror of my backyard.

In our defense, all that crap out front was inside, before- this picture was snapped as the contractor was hauling things out to the dumpster- just trash from the previous owner. She left us a lot of trash- two dumpsters full, before this lot, plus some straight weirdness in the attic space (a foosball table with no legs?) and the basement (liquor from the 1970s?).

I watched the demo from my studio window. It was brilliant.

Bill the Unbuilder tore that heap down in about two hours, all told.

Then he tore up the old, crap building pad, and a rotting walkway that had been built to it, and replaced it with a new shiny building pad that is now awaiting our new structure- a lovely red and white barn- shaped shed that will house a ton of yarn, fiber, and- when they're not in use- my dye stoves. That bit will be finished in a few weeks. For now, I'm standing at the end of my driveway an awful lot, admiring my little plot of land. Everything looks better without that tumbledown building.

It still surprises me, some mornings- I have these strange, What happened to that ghastly garage? moments, but even then, it's not a moment of concern, just confusion. One more step managed.

in the garden

I've been lax with the blog, certainly, but busy in real life- dreaming about lace patterns, scurrying about to get business regulated (hooray for our demolition permits!), and rhapsodizing over my garden. It did fairly well over our absence- the basil looks a little rough, and the coriander died and dried, which leaves us grindable pods. Which is still pretty okay, and they're very nice to look at. Otherwise, though, the garden is flourishing.

There are loads of tomatoes still waiting to turn red, and cucumbers ready for the eating (we're having some with dinner tonight!), and the summer squash is coming along nicely, too. But it's the peppers that are the real champs- the jalapenos and the thai chilies I planted, expecting absolutely no success. There are so many tiny, perfect little peppers budding!

I'm feeling a bit exhausted- all the Sock Summit madness finally catching up to me, I think- and taking extra good care of myself these next few weeks. Morning runs, good clean food (ugh, the thought of all the fast and truck stop food we ate over that trip makes me feel greasy), 9:30 pm bedtimes. I'm waiting for it to make a difference, but I'm guessing that three or four weeks of stress and abuse don't get fixed in just a few days of careful tending. Oh, well.

things that are currently devouring my life

• Night photos.
• Preparations for Sock Summit.
• Designing handwarmers and a shawl. (Anyone interested in test knitting?)
• Failing at teaching myself crochet. (Should just wait for Corrine to return.)
• Mochimochi's series of very tiny knitted things. (Tiny armadillos! A tiny computer! The cute, it hurts.)
• Obsessing over my very small vegetable garden.
• Cooking For Assholes. (Language warning, but that's a bit obvious, right?)
• Dr. McNinja. (Awesomeness warning, also probably pretty obvious.)
• Several truly lovely graphic novels.

the week so far has been...

My recently re- claimed backyard, which is too wet right now to be good for much but is still very exciting.

My weekly trip to Gryphon's house- oooh, and the spin- in on Saturday to look forward to!

Complete shuffleboard domination!

And of course, always this.

my weeklong absence

Last weekend I went to the workshop Jacey Boggs was holding in Spinster Yarns and Fibers, which I’d so been looking forward to. I’m so glad I went!

If you can find a spot in your area, get yourself into one of these workshops. The classes are worth it just to learn the techniques (I am so very much in love with supercoils!), but Jacey really is such a technician; the control she demonstrates is inspiring in its own right. 

Also, supercoils. They're ridiculous and funny and they make me think of superfriendly kawaii characters; if any yarn could have googly eyes and say, "Knit me!" this would be it. Naturally, I would fall helplessly in love with the one technique that can't ever be 100% balanced, but I also have a longstanding love for carefully used, energized singles.

We made batts at Spinster Yarns and Fibers for the class, which reminded me of how much I love drum carders- and how neglected mine is. I'm working on some corespun yarn for a supersoft winter cowl-  really, how many knitted accessories can one girl need? Apparently, there is no limit. The squishy, sparkly midnight blueness of my batt- which the lovely Kate carded for me herself- will be so lovely against my neck next fall.

In other news, we're getting the yard in order- it's all I've been able to think/ talk about all week, really, seeing as it has taken AN ENTIRE WEEK plus tomorrow to get that damned yard sussed. Wow. that will be a blog post itself- I'll have before and after pictures. The plan- isn't there always a plan?- is to get the yard steady to host a late- summer / early- fall outdoor spin- in or three; we have all this lovely land and we've never really done anything with it, but it's perfect for having people over. I'm thinking knitters, spinners, a fire, marshmallows, frosty beverages, something like that. Thoughts?

 

old dog, new tricks

Behold, my seedlings.

This is a minor miracle in my life. I have the blackest thumb. I kill any plant I touch, unless it belongs to someone else; if I'm plant-sitting, they'll flourish. Really, it's remarkable that my daughter has survived to adolescence. And so these seedlings- about 16 tomato plants, some eggplants, onions, herbs, summer squash, lettuces- they are remarkable and precious to me, a lovely surprise. Maybe I can do this!

Ah, my sweet babies; grow big and tall. I can't wait to eat- eerm, I mean, replant you all!

(And hello to everyone who's meeting me via The Sanguine Gryphon! I can't wait to get started.)