tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19489672113673572492024-03-13T08:43:46.348-07:00One Foot in the Garden...Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.comBlogger79125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-66696173812574561772013-08-16T11:23:00.000-07:002013-08-16T11:23:00.865-07:00How I Spent My Summer...<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s been busy here these last few months, busy with
preparation and even busier with what we were preparing for: a puppy. We took
the leap and got a puppy, a bundle of fur equipped with sharp little teeth and
clumsy paws and more muscle than you’d think a baby anything could have. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Last year, after eight years of talking about getting a dog,
after 20 years of my yearning to have a dog again, after learning that I can
bring a dog to work, we started looking for a reputable Golden Retriever
breeder. They’re a dime a dozen out there, people who have a dog who happens to
be AKC registered and decide it would be a good idea to have a litter without
taking the proper steps to minimize the inherited health issues so common in
Goldens. I was adamant about health <a href="http://www.abcgoldenretrievers.com/choosing_a_breeder.htm">clearances</a>, the tests that check for hip
and elbow dysplasia, eye issues, and heart problems in dogs that will be bred.
One breeder I talked with didn’t believe those were necessary. “I’ve never had
a problem”, she said. Not in the entire four years she’d been breeding. Four
years. That’s not enough time to know what kind of genetic problems she’s
passing along. It’s irresponsible breeding. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So we kept looking and found a breeder we felt comfortable
with. She tests her dogs and doesn’t breed until all the clearances are in. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I talked with her over the course of about six
months before we filled out an application. (You really want to work with a
breeder who makes you jump through a few hoops. It shows they care about where
their puppies go and not just the fee.) Once the pregnancy was confirmed we
went to meet the breeder and her dogs. We wanted to get an in-person feel for
both. It was a match. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">On June 2 we brought home our boy. He was ten weeks old, sweet
and beautiful. We named him <a href="http://www.ask.com/wiki/Fionn_mac_Cumhaill">Finn</a>, a nod to my heritage. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now we get to the busy part. I expected it to be work. Yep,
I did. I knew I’d be tired. Yeah, that too. I knew training would take time and
energy. Check, knew that was part of the deal. I didn’t know I’d be so cross-eyed
with exhaustion I’d sit on the floor and cry. I didn’t have a clue that I’d
spend my days <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and evenings watching his
every move in order to catch that tiny bit of body language that said I’m about
to pee NOW, and that I’d be late to the scoop-him-up-and-run-outside-party most
of the time. Nor did I expect that he’d look me straight in the eye with a
hah-try-to-stop-me look just as he chomped down on every piece of furniture in
my family room. I most especially wasn’t prepared for the criticism I’ve
received from people who think they know all about puppy raising. Those same
people who disregard advice from the Vet, the trainer, and every bit of common
sense about bringing a dog into your home. Yeah. That one knocked me for a
loop. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But beyond that, deeper than all the work and exhaustion and
hurt feelings, I have a dog. Read that again with awe. <em>I have a dog</em>. He’s four
and a half months old now. All the work and training are beginning to fall into
place, and though we have a long way to go yet, we can see that our energetic
puppy is going to be an awesome dog. House training went faster than expected.
He goes to the door reliably, asking to be let out; he’s learning, slowly, to
walk politely on leash; someday, hopefully soon, he’ll learn that keeping all
four on the floor will get him petted faster than jumping up for attention and that the couch is not his playground;
there’s a split second of hesitation just before his teeth sink into a chair
arm and a quicker release when we tell him no. </span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s6Tihg4_62c/Ug5tdb8rnTI/AAAAAAAAAUo/UoC-LHGzgPU/s1600/Finn+12+wks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s6Tihg4_62c/Ug5tdb8rnTI/AAAAAAAAAUo/UoC-LHGzgPU/s320/Finn+12+wks.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My boy! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I love this little guy. I love that he leans into me for
petting when we sit together in the mornings and again when I get home from
work. I love that when he licks my arm his puppy tongue sticks to my skin. I
can’t imagine what life would be without him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We got a puppy and life isn’t going to be as quiet around here as it was
before he came. And that makes me really happy. </span></div>
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<span id="goog_1349118179"></span><span id="goog_1349118180"></span></span>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-25625480207483112572013-03-11T15:32:00.001-07:002013-03-11T15:32:46.503-07:00Into the SeasonOur winter garden is finally giving us a small harvest. We planted last October, our first stab at winter vegetables, and then watched the seedlings do nothing. If they grew at all it was in fractions of inches. Most of them withered away or refused to reach out a root or leaf for sustenance. <br />
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We discovered that the winter sun is shaded by our house, so much that the backyard is in almost total shade all winter. How did we not notice this all these years? <br />
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This afternoon I've weeded a few beds in preparation for spring planting. The winter vegetables that survived an exceptionally cold winter are leaning their faces into the sun. <br />
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In the last few weeks we've had kale sautéed, chopped onto hearty winter salads, added to soups and scrambled with eggs. Delicate baby lettuce, carrots, and radishes make artful salads. I could learn to love broccoli, its flavor and texture so different from supermarket crowns. <br />
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We probably won't plant a true winter garden again, but might opt for an early spring planting in addition to the summer garden. It's been a good gardening lesson for us and I'm happy it's finally growing. <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Yx7PBthYiOM/UT5bjXTLVbI/AAAAAAAAATo/wHhg_eYKN3U/s640/blogger-image-1774330809.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Yx7PBthYiOM/UT5bjXTLVbI/AAAAAAAAATo/wHhg_eYKN3U/s640/blogger-image-1774330809.jpg" /></a></div>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-65521853765919653722012-08-29T20:00:00.000-07:002012-10-03T05:46:45.294-07:00Learning to Can Safely<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gzg9bzJW_04/UD7V4teyNkI/AAAAAAAAAS8/S3pG7AV14S0/s1600/jars+&+rings++.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gzg9bzJW_04/UD7V4teyNkI/AAAAAAAAAS8/S3pG7AV14S0/s320/jars+&+rings++.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Like a lot of people who’ve taken up canning in the past
several years, I first learned to can with my mother. She put up hundreds of
jars of applesauce, green beans, peaches, pears, and tomatoes each summer. We
picked blackberries every August, filling pots and pans and giant mixing bowls
with our bounty, which then got cooked into jam that we slathered on peanut
butter sandwiches. We canned in those days because we needed to feed ourselves
good food at less cost. It saw us through some lean times well. </span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pwk8ScPM3Js/UD7WHnJIhEI/AAAAAAAAATE/a8W6WO-pOU8/s1600/canning+book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pwk8ScPM3Js/UD7WHnJIhEI/AAAAAAAAATE/a8W6WO-pOU8/s320/canning+book.jpg" width="228" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now I can because it’s a way to ensure my food is as honest
and clean as possible. I know what goes into those jars; there’s no high
fructose corn syrup, no preservatives, no ridiculous amount of salt. I also get
a say in where my food comes from. Sometimes it’s from my backyard, sometimes a
local farm. I’ve also discovered that once people know you’re a canner they
show up with bags and boxes full of fruit. (There are currently 28 pounds of
plums in my freezer that need to be turned into jam. Soon.) And, really, canning is fun. I'm in love with those jewel-toned jars. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ever since I started canning six years ago I’ve been looking
for classes to help fill the gaps in my knowledge. What’s considered safe
canning practice has changed over the past decade or so. Canning the way our
grandmothers and mothers did may give a good seal, but that’s not enough. Food
scientists know more about food borne illness now; we have new, stronger strains of bacteria
that require us to be more careful in processing those beautiful jars. Just
because it’s sealed doesn’t mean it’s safe. </span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rOHUJEIesS8/UD7W9wIZQvI/AAAAAAAAATM/0-hOiDIr4Qk/s1600/canning+intro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rOHUJEIesS8/UD7W9wIZQvI/AAAAAAAAATM/0-hOiDIr4Qk/s1600/canning+intro.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When my search for a good, comprehensive class came up empty
(my local extension office has no interest in offering classes) I turned to UC
Davis and was referred to University of Idaho. That’s a long way from where I
live. The good news is that they have an online course that’s open to anyone
with any level of canning experience. Preserve @ Home is six weeks long,
interactive with videos and weekly chats, and covers all aspects of food
preservation. It’s not only the “how” of preserving, but the “why”. It’s
exactly what I’ve been looking for. And it’s a bargain at $35.00. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">If you’re interested in this class leave a comment and shoot
me an email at jamandcookies at yahoo dot com and I’ll send you the
registration form and syllabus. (Please don't leave your email address in your comment. In an effort to preserve your email address privacy I've deleted several comments that included that information.)It’s a special offering of the class and we need
15 people to make this happen; another class is scheduled for next year, so if
this October doesn’t work for you there will be other opportunities. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Happy Canning! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">Update:</span> It looks like this class is going to fill quickly. The maximum enrollment is 20. Carol Hampton is offering to keep a waiting list for the next class, which is scheduled for January 2013. It might be wise to email her at <a href="mailto:champton@uidaho.edu">champton@uidaho.edu</a> to make sure there's room left in this session before you send your check. Please email me directly for the registration form and syllabus. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;">October</span> <span style="color: red;">3, 2012 Update</span></span><span style="color: red;">:</span> The class is now full. If you're interested in a future class please contact Carol Hampton at the email address above. </span></div>
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</span>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-2885709508543866482012-08-28T20:26:00.000-07:002012-08-29T20:04:18.714-07:00August Moon<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The end of
summer is here, a steady slide into autumn, that glorious blast of bright skies
and warm days to remind us that the earth is stunningly beautiful. Every kid
I know is back at school by now, their backpacks jammed with heavy books and
clothes layered on for chilly mornings and shed during hot afternoons. It will
be years before they can really see the beauty of this month.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I love this
time of year. August, with its naked ladies in full bloom, ripe blackberries
hanging just beyond my reach, the first tomatoes of the season, dandelion seeds
floating on wispy breezes. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We’ve been
watching a caterpillar in the herb bed for two days. It’s beautiful, all green,
red, and orange, perched at the end of a parsley sprig. Neither of us has the
heart to move it. If this creature needs my parsley to fuel its transition to
butterfly I’m willing to leave it alone and hope that, with a bit of luck, we
might see what emerges from the cocoon later. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">August
leaves me grateful and sad and in awe. It’s the month of my sister’s birth, a
date I set aside every year to quietly celebrate the 42 years we had with her.
I wish the sunshine on her face and the sweet taste of wild blackberry jam in
her mouth. I wish long conversations and sharing dreams with her. August was
her month, bright and full of ripening harvest. And over far too soon. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><em>When you
hear a tale </em></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><em>Of the
August moon<o:p></o:p></em></span></span></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Indulge your
senses, </span></span></em></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p><em></em></o:p></span></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Call Wisdom.</span></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></em> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Discover one
simple dream.</span></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></em> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Honor truth.<o:p></o:p></span></span></em></div>
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</span>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-70601990646427837482012-08-03T11:30:00.002-07:002012-08-03T11:32:20.757-07:00Irish Soda Bread - Part 2 (finally)<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It seems my
blogging intentions have been waylaid by an insistent desire to be lazy about
writing. There it is; I’ve been apathetic about writing for so long that
thinking about it feels like yet another chore waiting to be done, but a quick look
through past posts reminds me that I need to follow up on a few things that got
pushed all the way to the back of the cupboard. Time to dig out and finish what
I started. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Way back in
<a href="http://onefootinthegarden.blogspot.com/2012/03/irish-bread-part-one.html">March</a> I wrote about baking Irish Soda Bread. It was good, but not great. So I
experimented and researched and left my mother’s recipe behind. That recipe called
for a lot more flour than any other I’ve seen, and instead of buttermilk she
used regular milk. That got me a hot brick. The next time I used less flour,
but still regular milk. Not quite so dense, but not what I wanted either.
Finally, after <a href="http://www.europeancuisines.com/Peters-Mums-Soda-Bread-Recipe">learning why buttermilk is so important to Soda Bread</a> I made
another loaf using vinegar and milk (I didn’t want to buy a quart of buttermilk
and have to throw most of it out because, umm, yuck). The bread was delicious
and had the right texture and density. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is what
I learned: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The acidity of buttermilk is necessary to activate the baking soda. Not adding that acidity will leave the bread dense. </span></span></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">You can fake buttermilk by adding one teaspoon of lemon juice or vinegar to room temperature milk and letting it sit for 15 minutes</span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></div>
</li>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fresh, hot bread is the perfect vehicle for loads of fresh, homemade butter. </span></span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My jeans fit better if I don’t bake bread too often.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
</li>
</ul>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Okay, one
follow-up post completed. Let’s see how well I do with the next one. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-64134385711865974752012-06-01T06:58:00.001-07:002012-06-01T06:58:14.683-07:00A New DayYesterday was a rotten day. There's no other word that fits. But today is going to be better. Look at where I read the newspaper and had my tea this morning. The air smells like summer, a spicy, earthy, warm scent that promises something wonderful. <div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-A20UAUpSGJI/T8jKcuyYhlI/AAAAAAAAASY/RtT-xCbHABg/s640/blogger-image-1995696382.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-A20UAUpSGJI/T8jKcuyYhlI/AAAAAAAAASY/RtT-xCbHABg/s640/blogger-image-1995696382.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-UGSGTJwHylc/T8jKdAoRMnI/AAAAAAAAASg/tiIGYCk6JpA/s640/blogger-image--1541924165.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-UGSGTJwHylc/T8jKdAoRMnI/AAAAAAAAASg/tiIGYCk6JpA/s640/blogger-image--1541924165.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-YrksW2E9IC8/T8jKdRiiA5I/AAAAAAAAASo/xi0pcxAaLUM/s640/blogger-image-679181284.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-YrksW2E9IC8/T8jKdRiiA5I/AAAAAAAAASo/xi0pcxAaLUM/s640/blogger-image-679181284.jpg" /></a></div>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-23293826377981535562012-05-27T10:29:00.001-07:002012-05-27T10:29:39.711-07:00SundaySunday morning in the garden: more herbs planted in the perennial herb bed, tomato cages in place, everything watered, an abandoned bird nest admired, all while three dragonflies flew in circles above us. Perfect. <div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-GggwLRRRnwc/T8JkfYcFR9I/AAAAAAAAASM/Vkinm9fpo-w/s640/blogger-image--1597226167.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-GggwLRRRnwc/T8JkfYcFR9I/AAAAAAAAASM/Vkinm9fpo-w/s640/blogger-image--1597226167.jpg" /></a></div>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-11179408406063317872012-05-22T18:17:00.005-07:002012-05-22T18:17:57.329-07:00Red Tape - An Adventure<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q2fIRuEY_t8/T7w6aOUIwaI/AAAAAAAAASA/X5fldlMO4vA/s1600/bloom2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q2fIRuEY_t8/T7w6aOUIwaI/AAAAAAAAASA/X5fldlMO4vA/s400/bloom2.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s 5:00
p.m. on a Tuesday, late enough in the Spring to feel like afternoon instead of
the evening almost-night of the same time in Winter. In about an hour I’ll have
dinner just about ready – leftovers -<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>and not long after that will settle in for the slow decline of day
before heading off to bed at a reasonable time so I can get up in the morning
and go make a living. My weekend is over and for the first time in ages I feel
accomplished and rested. (Maybe I shouldn’t say that out loud; it might be
tempting fate or the sandman. It might reek of bragging.) <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The house is
cleaned, laundry finished, business bookkeeping and errands are caught up, the
garden is holding its own. I even stretched out on the couch with a book and
drifted into a twilight kind of sleep for a half hour or so. It was lovely. And
now, from that place of feeling a deep breath in my soul, I’m writing. It’s
time to catch up on this blog.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For a while,
a couple months, I managed to post a few times a week. A little rhythm
developed, take some pictures, write a few paragraphs, polish it up a bit,
post. Then things went a little sideways. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Here’s the
short version of what happened: Last autumn my husband had knee surgery.
Nothing major, a little repair that should have corrected the problem and had
him back on his feet better than new in six to eight weeks. Piece of cake. But
that’s not what happened. Instead we discovered what a bureaucratic nightmare
the Worker’s Compensation system can be. We learned about the ways a person can
fall through the cracks of a medical system that doesn’t listen to the patient
and that the insurance program intended to protect injured employees requires
constant monitoring and advocacy. When it was long past obvious that his knee
wasn’t healing properly the system failed. Our dining room table has been
strewn with papers for months, a trail of events and notices, requests for
information and confirmation, copies of letters we’ve sent, and notes to help
us keep track of it all. My husband’s supervisors delayed filing paperwork,
resulting in a tangle of over-payments and crossed wires, leading to demands
for re-payment and proof that a doctor’s report should have amply answered. And
the part that frustrates us the most? My husband’s knee is no better than
before surgery. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We looked
for an attorney, only to learn that there are only four lawyers in the state
who will take on this worker’s comp insurance. It’s a big, bad, mother of a
federal system. And we’ve been going head-to-head with it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In the end
it’s most likely going to be just fine. My husband’s knee is finally getting
stronger, he’s returned to work, and we’re gradually getting our feet back
under us again. We took a deep breath on Sunday morning and had a delightful
day. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And this
blog? Sheesh, it needs some serious attention. Bear with me while I figure out
how to bring it back to life and re-establish a writing and photography
routine. There are amazing things in this world, even in dark times, and I plan
to string together words to describe them. Red tape be damned. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-26070318660964431002012-04-25T19:06:00.001-07:002012-04-25T19:06:53.122-07:00Playing With Words<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xXdEnBDHCB8/T5itvKGyO4I/AAAAAAAAARk/43WR1ntz-1I/s640/blogger-image-1292911032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xXdEnBDHCB8/T5itvKGyO4I/AAAAAAAAARk/43WR1ntz-1I/s640/blogger-image-1292911032.jpg" /></a></div>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-86104488141644764392012-04-14T07:05:00.000-07:002012-04-14T07:05:15.865-07:00A Chicken in Every Yard<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eCnbWWp24tQ/T4bS0_MoTXI/AAAAAAAAARE/mFYF2wJ6SOo/s1600/Chicken+Poster.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eCnbWWp24tQ/T4bS0_MoTXI/AAAAAAAAARE/mFYF2wJ6SOo/s640/Chicken+Poster.JPG" width="440" /></a></div>
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We think we're so clever, discovering that chickens keep well in backyards. And that we're somehow side-stepping the government. Hah!</div>
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<br /></div>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-68295680899017101382012-04-11T17:15:00.003-07:002012-04-12T06:00:24.089-07:00Spice Dyed Easter Eggs<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p> <span style="font-family: inherit;">Sunday morning I got up early to dye Easter Eggs using spices, herbs, teas, vegetables, and assorted juices. I've always been hesitant to use commercial egg dyes since getting sick after eating an Easter Egg when I was a kid, therefore I was delighted to learn actual food could be used to color eggs. The results were mixed, with some dyes barely tinting the eggs and others giving a soft color. The basic recipe uses one cup of hot water in which to dissolve the spices and a tablespoon of vinegar. The eggs soaked for 60-90 minutes. I used one teaspoon of ground spice per cup - not quite enough, but a good start. Next time I'll use more spice. A light rub with olive oil after they dried gave the eggs a nice sheen. </span></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p>Here's the list and results: </o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p>Fresh spinach (a good handful boiled for a long while) - not much color change and really icky, slimy spinach to strain out</o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p>Celery Seed - no color change</o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p>Mexican Saffron - very pretty light orange </o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p>Chili Powder - light orange</o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p>Curry Powder - pretty yellow</o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p>Ground Sage - nice greenish brown</o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p>Paprika - pale beige orange</o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><o:p>Beet Juice - pale pink</o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><o:p>Cherries in Wine (canned last summer) - purplish grey</o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><o:p>Raspberry Tea - soft grey</o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><o:p>Black Tea (Barry's) - varied browns</o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><o:p>Dried Hibiscus Flowers - mottled grey</o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sV9SPXXl2ew/T4YVLMNXBsI/AAAAAAAAAQU/T5NyWSV16wM/s1600/Egg+Dyeing+Ingredients.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sV9SPXXl2ew/T4YVLMNXBsI/AAAAAAAAAQU/T5NyWSV16wM/s320/Egg+Dyeing+Ingredients.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Setting up for egg dyeing with spices and teas.</span> </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-39PYoIV_-Cg/T4YcWbTk-3I/AAAAAAAAAQ8/tw3pnFhuDV0/s1600/Eggs+-+Easter.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-39PYoIV_-Cg/T4YcWbTk-3I/AAAAAAAAAQ8/tw3pnFhuDV0/s320/Eggs+-+Easter.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My favorites turned out to be the oranges and yellows: Mexican saffron, chili powder, curry powder, and paprika. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While I took the natural route, my brother and nephew used pens for a different take. </span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z1Bcr5qt1nM/T4YVPU3ZyVI/AAAAAAAAAQk/_f16SEi-2l0/s1600/Kiss+eggs.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="168" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z1Bcr5qt1nM/T4YVPU3ZyVI/AAAAAAAAAQk/_f16SEi-2l0/s320/Kiss+eggs.JPG" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Eggs to warm a rocker's heart.</span> </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o-YDMvb76yc/T4YVNr5Q8qI/AAAAAAAAAQc/wp7Uh3wjua0/s1600/Storm+Trooper+Egg.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="167" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o-YDMvb76yc/T4YVNr5Q8qI/AAAAAAAAAQc/wp7Uh3wjua0/s320/Storm+Trooper+Egg.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">Oh, and a Storm Trooper too<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">.</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-81840649319795717942012-03-26T10:10:00.000-07:002012-03-26T10:11:38.352-07:00A Weekend's Worth of Pictures, Sort Of...The only thing these pictures have in common is that I took them over this weekend with my phone. <br />
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A Curious Bird...<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MVKOA2Qfqgc/T3Ch7QVh-EI/AAAAAAAAAPc/YMRv473NXE8/s1600/Curious+Bird.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MVKOA2Qfqgc/T3Ch7QVh-EI/AAAAAAAAAPc/YMRv473NXE8/s320/Curious+Bird.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xsEgCsxa6Gc/T3Ch-lwCZQI/AAAAAAAAAPk/qINY-DTP44A/s1600/Disco+Cupcakes.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="307" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xsEgCsxa6Gc/T3Ch-lwCZQI/AAAAAAAAAPk/qINY-DTP44A/s320/Disco+Cupcakes.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Dessert at a Disco-themed 50th birthday party.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jdxnkikjGtU/T3CiBjTzDpI/AAAAAAAAAPs/qHhHP30H3bo/s1600/Rainy+Night+Golden+Gate.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jdxnkikjGtU/T3CiBjTzDpI/AAAAAAAAAPs/qHhHP30H3bo/s320/Rainy+Night+Golden+Gate.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
The drive home on a rainy night.Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-65199627068968832712012-03-23T16:35:00.000-07:002012-03-23T16:35:25.865-07:00An Encyclopedia of Cooking<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KA8YqMLzBI0/T20Hoagf1rI/AAAAAAAAAPM/d8CoqdSWywA/s1600/Mary+Margaret+McBride+Encyclopedia.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KA8YqMLzBI0/T20Hoagf1rI/AAAAAAAAAPM/d8CoqdSWywA/s400/Mary+Margaret+McBride+Encyclopedia.JPG" width="298" /></a><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Last year on
a summer afternoon we wandered up the block to a moving sale. It was an elderly
couple getting ready to downsize and move closer to their kids. My vintage
antennae were twitching and I convinced my husband to come along. I’ve learned
it’s wise to take him with me on these expeditions, otherwise we’d have a house
full of things we don’t need, don’t have room for, but I just couldn’t pass up.
He gets a subtle look I’ve learned to read as, “Are you kidding??!!!”. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J2m2oJZwFzQ/T20HcspSbBI/AAAAAAAAAPE/F629qPO_K-w/s1600/Gelatin+Salad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J2m2oJZwFzQ/T20HcspSbBI/AAAAAAAAAPE/F629qPO_K-w/s320/Gelatin+Salad.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There were
lots of old cookbooks, boxes of them tucked in a corner of the garage. I picked
out a couple for a grand total of $2.50 and headed home to flip through them.
The first, and biggest, book is The Encyclopedia of Cooking, by Mary Margaret
McBride, first published in 1959. It’s full of recipes from another era, some
that I’ll try, others, um, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not</i>. The
other book is hilarious and worthy of an entire post of its own next week. (How’s
that for a stay-tuned tease?) <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uW-PNnMfD2k/T20Hr_EPe7I/AAAAAAAAAPU/CnEs0vLzo8E/s1600/Noodle+Salad.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uW-PNnMfD2k/T20Hr_EPe7I/AAAAAAAAAPU/CnEs0vLzo8E/s320/Noodle+Salad.JPG" width="223" /></a><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The
Encyclopedia of Cooking is over 1,500 pages long, a hefty book of recipes
straight from the 1950’s and 1960’s. The recipes range from cookies that look
good even in black & white, to gelatin salads (yuck), to frankfurter
casseroles I don’t even want to imagine. There’s even a canning section that,
though out-dated, is fun to read through. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve definitely gotten my money’s worth out of
this book, and a bit more. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-69464409699010383322012-03-21T16:42:00.000-07:002012-03-21T16:42:01.357-07:00Irish Bread - Part One<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A9xPnCJpPjM/T2dWqOcB2II/AAAAAAAAAOU/tQN6qLY6zT4/s1600/Ready+for+the+Oven.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A9xPnCJpPjM/T2dWqOcB2II/AAAAAAAAAOU/tQN6qLY6zT4/s320/Ready+for+the+Oven.JPG" width="238" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Over the St. Patrick’s Day weekend I decided to try baking Irish Soda Bread. It’s something my mother made often when I was growing up, but she never wrote down the recipe. It was all in the look and feel of the dough, a little more flour, a little less milk, a dash of something else. And always lots of raisins. Traditional soda bread doesn’t have raisins in it, but we all loved those sweet raisins, tradition be damned.</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Pk5eyFCQQSY/T2dWmSLw8TI/AAAAAAAAAOM/9qbazXNEaac/s1600/Out+of+the+Oven.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Pk5eyFCQQSY/T2dWmSLw8TI/AAAAAAAAAOM/9qbazXNEaac/s320/Out+of+the+Oven.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QwGyQ4TZRTg/T2dWdzuVXzI/AAAAAAAAAN8/1Xz8BB_cvdc/s1600/Bread+&+Butter.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QwGyQ4TZRTg/T2dWdzuVXzI/AAAAAAAAAN8/1Xz8BB_cvdc/s320/Bread+&+Butter.JPG" width="221" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I didn’t know what were eating was soda bread until a few years ago; we always called it “Irish bread” not knowing what made it any more Irish than other types of bread. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A little <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soda_bread">research</a> this morning <a href="http://www.europeancuisines.com/Peters-Mums-Soda-Bread-Recipe">answered</a> that question and a few others. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I didn't have any buttermilk in the house; I used milk instead, not realizing that baking soda needs acidity to activate properly. My soda bread was a little too dense, a tiny bit doughy, but tasty anyway. Lots of butter on warm bread is a good thing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In a week or two I'll make another loaf using proper ingredients and will report back how that turns out. </span></div>
<br />Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-62947164839334558532012-03-19T17:47:00.000-07:002012-03-19T17:47:49.566-07:00A hundred bottles of....<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-06FRdUJ4_JM/T2fSdbOIkCI/AAAAAAAAAOc/bE3uOUDMTW8/s1600/jars+&+rings++.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-06FRdUJ4_JM/T2fSdbOIkCI/AAAAAAAAAOc/bE3uOUDMTW8/s320/jars+&+rings++.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Lately I’ve been wondering just how many canning jars I have
stashed away in my house. This afternoon, with notebook and pen, I went looking
and counted all of them. Pints, half pints, quarts, little four ounce jam jars,
tall twelve ounce jars, and old, blue jars. I counted jars filled, empty, and
hidden in the back of the fridge. (Some of those need to be emptied; the
contents are questionable. Yuck.) A few of the oldest jars with their zinc and
glass lids are displayed in my kitchen, too precious to put through a water
bath or pressure canner. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">After a while I lost track of which jars I’d already
counted, and I’m sure some were missed in the shuffle of glass, but it’s safe
to say I’ve got over 300 canning jars of assorted sizes. At least three dozen
of them are vintage, ranging from 40 or 50 years to possibly 80 years old. In
the past couple weeks I’ve given away another two dozen vintage jars, because
really, how many old jars could I ever use? I’m curious to see how many of
them I get filled this summer and fall. </span></div>
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</span>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-91750759746724863832012-03-16T17:08:00.001-07:002012-03-16T17:08:42.322-07:00Water, Water Everywhere<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">This afternoon it’s rainy and a little chilly outside, not unusual for March by any means. In fact, I’m glad to see the rain because we’ve had so little of it this season. Back in the mid-70’s we had a drought here in Northern California and learned how to ration our water use. Lawns died, cars got dirty, we were encouraged to shower with a friend, and to flush only when completely necessary. It’s shaping up to be a drought year again, starting now, even with all this rain. <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">A couple years ago, after much searching, we installed a <a href="http://www.showerbuddy.com/Showroom/Shower_Heads_/Shower_Hose_Showerhead_Accesso/Shower_Head_Shut_Off/shower_head_shut_off.html">gadget</a> on our shower that allows a momentary water shut-off for soaping up without having to readjust the temperature every time. All winter I forget it’s there and, honestly, I’m not going to turn off that lovely warm water when it’s chilly in the house. But come summer, I’ll put that valve to use. It’s a gallon or two saved, a good start, but not enough.<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">What I’d really like to install is a <a href="https://www.google.com/search?source=ig&hl=en&rlz=1G1SNNTCENUS360&=&q=gray+water+systems&oq=gray+water&aq=1&aqi=g5g-s1g4&aql=&gs_sm=1&gs_upl=1398l3891l0l5777l10l10l0l0l0l0l113l963l8.2l10l0#hl=en&sugexp=llsin&gs_nf=1&tok=LqW5u_0EPv6FXGncoxuZ6w&pq=gray%20water%20systems&cp=2&gs_id=3&xhr=t&q=grey+water+systems&pf=p&rlz=1G1SNNTCENUS360&sclient=psy-ab&oq=gry+water+systems&aq=0l&aqi=g-l4&aql=&gs_sm=&gs_upl=&gs_l=&pbx=1&bav=on.2,or.r_gc.r_pw.r_qf.,cf.osb&fp=dfa004274ea93858&biw=1140&bih=500">grey water system</a>. Watching the amount of water that runs down the drain makes me think there’s got to be a better way to use this expensive resource. We talk about it when the water bill comes in, or when we’re at the local farm supply store looking at giant water tanks, which makes me also wonder about capturing run-off from the roof during the rainy season. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think about that every time I hear water pouring through the downspouts. <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">We live in a modern, suburban house with a concrete pad foundation; moving and rearranging pipes isn’t an option. And our neighbors probably wouldn’t be happy to see a <a href="http://tsc.tractorsupply.com/search?w=water+storage+tanks">storage tank</a> of any size adorning our yard. But that doesn’t mean it won’t happen someday. We’ll need to be creative about it, possibly setting up several small barrels to catch both grey and rain water and tucking them into the landscaping plan. <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">These days my incentive for turning off the tap and taking shorter showers is more complex than hearing my father yell about it. It’s my pocket the water bill gets paid out of, and a greater awareness of resource management propels creative and thoughtful use of household utilities. Drought or not, it’s worth considering alternatives. <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-39320186610437222422012-03-14T07:32:00.000-07:002012-03-14T07:32:09.239-07:00Almost Spring...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6Q3xPRYko8g/T2ASoGH5IYI/AAAAAAAAANk/2n55-Ee8tfI/s1600/african+violet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6Q3xPRYko8g/T2ASoGH5IYI/AAAAAAAAANk/2n55-Ee8tfI/s320/african+violet.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ffo6PTcwVxU/T2ATLYiehVI/AAAAAAAAAN0/lgB8olE8xKM/s1600/Altered+Plum+Blossoms.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ffo6PTcwVxU/T2ATLYiehVI/AAAAAAAAAN0/lgB8olE8xKM/s320/Altered+Plum+Blossoms.jpg" width="278" /></a></div>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-15616330574321447392012-03-12T06:51:00.000-07:002012-03-12T06:51:17.237-07:00Sunday Breakfast With a Side of Ethics<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I6D5z145YEU/T10V7pgAUOI/AAAAAAAAANE/nwRlKS0T04A/s1600/Breakfast+Plate.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I6D5z145YEU/T10V7pgAUOI/AAAAAAAAANE/nwRlKS0T04A/s400/Breakfast+Plate.JPG" width="308" /></a><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sunday is the one day of the week we're able to decide whether to get out of the house early or stay home in our jammies with the newspaper and pot after pot of tea. It’s that second option I like best on wintery days. I want to laze away the morning in slow motion. Sometimes we watch <a href="http://www.cbsnews.com/sections/sunday/main3445.shtml?tag=hdr;cnav">Sunday Morning with Charles Osgood</a>, other times I go back to bed with the newspaper and stay there until I’ve read the entire thing. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yualiipu43c/T10WDxgX2rI/AAAAAAAAANM/GwajdTNvphI/s1600/Pastured+Eggs.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yualiipu43c/T10WDxgX2rI/AAAAAAAAANM/GwajdTNvphI/s320/Pastured+Eggs.JPG" width="242" /></a><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Although Sunday breakfast should be special, it often isn’t any different than my quick workday bite just before I dash out the door. Actually cooking and lingering is part of what made yesterday’s breakfast so especially amazing. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We’ve been buying <a href="http://www.motherearthnews.com/eggs.aspx">pastured eggs</a> from a friend whose hens live a grand life. They get good food and stretch their wings in sunshine, scratching and pecking on green grass. Their eggs have bright orange yolks that stand tall and round in the pan and a taste that’s richer than anything produced by hens kept in small, artificially lit cages. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3T04eGj025Y/T10WJOGt0qI/AAAAAAAAANU/FucOa6BXllQ/s1600/Satsuma+Mandarin+Marmalade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="319" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3T04eGj025Y/T10WJOGt0qI/AAAAAAAAANU/FucOa6BXllQ/s320/Satsuma+Mandarin+Marmalade.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In addition to those delicious eggs we had locally raised, nitrite-free bacon and fresh, homemade (not by me) bread. The bread was light and hearty, full of whole grains and perfectly toasted. I topped my slice with a good dollop of Satsuma Mandarin Marmalade from this winter’s backyard harvest. It doesn’t get any more local than twenty feet from your own door. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FeJ5nfBWGbQ/T10V4bln2BI/AAAAAAAAAM8/ThwzVmnrx8c/s1600/Bacon.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FeJ5nfBWGbQ/T10V4bln2BI/AAAAAAAAAM8/ThwzVmnrx8c/s320/Bacon.JPG" width="297" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The bacon we ate yesterday was thoughtfully and ethically raised. Knowing this, and that it was <a href="http://www.humaneitarian.org/what-is-humanely-raised-meat/">humanely</a> slaughtered, makes me feel a sense of honor for the animal I don’t get with a package from the store. It wasn’t as salty as commercial bacon, was more thickly cut, and had a mellower flavor. It crisped exactly the way we both like. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m done buying eggs and bacon at the grocery store. For the small amount of bacon we actually eat (I could honestly have it every day if my cholesterol level would allow), I don’t mind paying a little more for this kind of quality. And isn’t that what Sunday morning should be about? Quality, ethics, honor, delicious food. My kind of day. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-6573175599171898902012-03-09T08:28:00.000-08:002012-03-09T08:28:20.932-08:00Why I Can<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The response I get most often when people hear I’m a canner
is that it sounds like an awful lot of work. And it’s true, but its work in the
same way cooking dinner is, making a piece of art, or planting a garden. The
fact is that most things in life are work. It’s only unpleasant if you dislike
the process or the outcome. When it comes to canning I adore both. Not enough
to do it every day, or even weekly, but often and intensely enough to satisfy a
creative need. </span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZehB61omV2I/T1oq2artdII/AAAAAAAAAMU/6qAg4Bsyt7c/s1600/conserve.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZehB61omV2I/T1oq2artdII/AAAAAAAAAMU/6qAg4Bsyt7c/s320/conserve.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I make a lot of jam, partially because I really like good
jam (Smuckers anyone? <em>I don’t think so</em>) and because of the process itself. Anyone
who’s ever stood over a pot of bubbling jam knows what I’m talking about here. From
choosing fruit - if you’re really lucky, harvesting your own - through labeling
and storing your jars, there isn’t a step that doesn’t involve the senses and
require mindfulness. You can’t rush any step along the way. Jam gels at a
certain temperature and not a moment before. Hurrying through filling jars just
makes a mess; there’s enough clean up to do while the water bath is boiling
your jars without having to wipe up sticky jam from the counter too. </span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NBSRO9gLJ7M/T1orLkjjYPI/AAAAAAAAAMs/K4WuFCHON1I/s1600/cranberriies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="307" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NBSRO9gLJ7M/T1orLkjjYPI/AAAAAAAAAMs/K4WuFCHON1I/s320/cranberriies.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s been almost six years since I started canning. I’d made
freezer jam a few times, but was a daunted by actual canning. It seemed
complicated and kind of scary. Then I read a blog post about dilly beans and something
clicked. I could do this. One thing led to another and my pantry is now full of
jam, dill pickles, tomatoes, peaches, brandied cherries, applesauce, pickled beets, conserves, and my beloved dilly beans.
I’ve moved on to pressure canning; that was a big investment and I had to
step up my game. </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X3wBNP9SnK0/T1orFH57iRI/AAAAAAAAAMk/-LM107nBv_M/s1600/beets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="146" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X3wBNP9SnK0/T1orFH57iRI/AAAAAAAAAMk/-LM107nBv_M/s320/beets.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I like putting food on the table that I can trace back to my
garden or the farm around the corner. Some produce comes from the 130 year old
farm stand in town that tempts me to spend way too much money on far too much
fruit. It’s important to know not only what’s in those jars, but also what isn’t.
There’s not a hint of preservative, high fructose corn syrup, or food coloring.
My hands were on every piece of produce, washing and checking for blemishes and ripeness. But
the end product is only part of the reason I can. It’s the process I love most.
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d9Ue3Tk3qbI/T1orCTTDNFI/AAAAAAAAAMc/tNepmVhzTxE/s1600/tomatoes++.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d9Ue3Tk3qbI/T1orCTTDNFI/AAAAAAAAAMc/tNepmVhzTxE/s320/tomatoes++.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I love the meditative quality of canning. Everything in order and in its time. The smell and color of cooking fruit. The absolute sense of accomplishment when I pull the last jar from the water bath. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The beauty of jewel-toned jars cooling on the table. </span></span><br />
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</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Yes, it’s work, but aren’t some things worth working for? </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-StUXigOCG-4/T1orSq6BvoI/AAAAAAAAAM0/VKVI9VozjlU/s1600/jam+jars++.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-StUXigOCG-4/T1orSq6BvoI/AAAAAAAAAM0/VKVI9VozjlU/s320/jam+jars++.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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</span>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-720925940988111732012-03-05T16:14:00.000-08:002012-03-05T16:14:26.377-08:00Prepping the Garden Beds<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m9TLCJ43KSc/T1VTRaSu7-I/AAAAAAAAALk/8TqOtNcRn4E/s1600/Soil+Amendments.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m9TLCJ43KSc/T1VTRaSu7-I/AAAAAAAAALk/8TqOtNcRn4E/s400/Soil+Amendments.JPG" width="298" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s time to prepare the garden beds for spring planting. We’ve
poured bags of compost into the beds, turned the soil and covered it with
sheets of newspaper again. It’s not pretty, all that newspaper weighted down
against the wind with rocks and tree limbs, but it works. The weeds don’t get a
chance to take root and the neighborhood cats won’t do their business where
they can’t dig. And it’s cheap. When it’s time to transplant our seedlings I’ll
peel back enough paper to plant, letting the remaining newspaper stay in place
to continue keeping weeds and cats out of the bed. </span></div>
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</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YLgxPq4GiU0/T1VTVf5tjmI/AAAAAAAAALs/sQijKnxjv10/s1600/Green+Bean+Seedlings+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YLgxPq4GiU0/T1VTVf5tjmI/AAAAAAAAALs/sQijKnxjv10/s320/Green+Bean+Seedlings+3.JPG" width="239" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The tomato seeds went into seed trays yesterday and the
basil this morning. Our green bean seedlings have grown startlingly fast. It’s
the first time I’ve started seeds indoors and I’m surprised at how quickly they
germinated and grew. There’s a forest of green beans in my kitchen and by the
time the last frost is past and the soil warm enough to plant they’ll be sturdy
beanstalks. </span></div>
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</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RrAtnFe3O0w/T1VVIH7XInI/AAAAAAAAAME/JmGdANGH0kA/s1600/Sage.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RrAtnFe3O0w/T1VVIH7XInI/AAAAAAAAAME/JmGdANGH0kA/s320/Sage.JPG" width="239" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We dug up last season’s parsley (that wouldn’t grow then,
but looks healthy now) as well as a large clump of sage and moved them from wine
barrels to beds. Lemon balm that wanted to escape its box is now confined to a
planter on the patio. </span></div>
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</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LziX2fLZt8s/T1VTj8AcTgI/AAAAAAAAAL0/qyOAOO1e8OA/s1600/Tiny+Potato+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LziX2fLZt8s/T1VTj8AcTgI/AAAAAAAAAL0/qyOAOO1e8OA/s400/Tiny+Potato+1.jpg" width="321" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">(Here's a potato we found in a barrel when we dug out the sage.) </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">By the middle of next month the garden will be in full swing and my hands will be full of dirt. I can barely wait. </span></div>
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<br /></div>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-67370713555818084532012-03-02T08:20:00.000-08:002012-03-02T08:20:48.868-08:00Dreams<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6fpz5yJCPzo/T1BVUOYu5SI/AAAAAAAAALc/J0X28YyoOB8/s1600/Van+Gogh+Dreams.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6fpz5yJCPzo/T1BVUOYu5SI/AAAAAAAAALc/J0X28YyoOB8/s400/Van+Gogh+Dreams.JPG" width="348" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">What are your dreams? </div>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-67972995312315156542012-02-29T17:46:00.001-08:002012-03-01T21:09:09.326-08:00Retro, Vintage, Old<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Vintage is the new buzzword for old. It’s true that everything old is new again, especially if it has a certain retro or vintage vibe to it. The stuff our parents threw away because it was ugly, or no good, or didn’t fit in anywhere…what I wouldn’t give to have some of those things now.</span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ePfwB01Yt-A/T07Tk4Vpb7I/AAAAAAAAALU/Kr5WB6MHfJQ/s1600/Vintage+Jar+Box.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="293" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ePfwB01Yt-A/T07Tk4Vpb7I/AAAAAAAAALU/Kr5WB6MHfJQ/s400/Vintage+Jar+Box.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Over the weekend I was gifted with vintage canning jars; four dozen jars that had been in storage for decades, packed carefully between layers of yellowed, crisp newspaper. The jars are Ball and Kerr, mostly pre-1960, some from the 1970's, as far as I can tell. Some are in excellent condition, others have a few nicks and scratches, not enough to warrant tossing them, but they won’t be up to a hot water bath again. Those jars, the ones likely to break in the pot, are still perfect for dry storage. A pantry full of jars is much prettier, and more efficient, than one filled with rubber-banded plastic bags and boxes that won’t stay shut. I can see exactly how much rice is left and if there are enough split peas for soup. </span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Of course, the decorating and other storage options are endless too: flower vases, candle holders, buttons, marbles, pens. Some people use them for drinking glasses, but I prefer my wine glass with a little less heft. </span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Not all of these jars will make it to my pantry. Even fewer will end up in the canning pot. I’m finding homes for some of them with canners as crazy about old glass as I am. I’m glad they didn’t get thrown away. </span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-52254241739626451362012-02-26T11:06:00.001-08:002012-03-01T21:10:14.297-08:00Bay Rum Aftershave<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Grand ideas sometimes come out of nowhere. Or maybe it just seems like it, when actually they’ve been hovering just over our shoulder, nagging for attention. This week I stopped in my tracks to listen and good things happened. </span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In the past week I’ve made a batch of soap, a dozen or more herb filled microwave heating pads, worked on some mixed media projects, and started two batches of Bay Rum Aftershave. Each project is worth a post of its own, but today’s is about the aftershave. My husband likes the refreshing feel and scent, and especially that he doesn’t feel perfumed. I love the way it, and he, smells.</span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hCdNi_ptYGI/T0qAh81g2pI/AAAAAAAAAK8/_LW8LPOkIBg/s1600/Bay+Rum+Ingredients+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hCdNi_ptYGI/T0qAh81g2pI/AAAAAAAAAK8/_LW8LPOkIBg/s400/Bay+Rum+Ingredients+1.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I first learned about Bay Rum probably thirty years ago when I took a class given by <a href="http://www.sagemountain.com/rosemary-gladstar.html">Rosemary Gladstar</a>, but didn’t get around to making it until last year. Turns out it’s simple to make and requires only ingredients most of us have in our kitchens already. The hardest part is being patient while it steeps long enough for the fragrance to develop. </span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After poking around the internet for recipes, I found most of them to be the same. The one I chose was repeated most often; I like a stronger bay scent, so I added more bay leaves and let it steep for much longer. </span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Here’s the basic formula:</span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">Bay Rum Aftershave<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IWYZllCLkn8/T0qAwpkqZmI/AAAAAAAAALE/pmc28zzbUNo/s1600/Bay+Rum+Ingredients+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IWYZllCLkn8/T0qAwpkqZmI/AAAAAAAAALE/pmc28zzbUNo/s320/Bay+Rum+Ingredients+2.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">½ cup Vodka</span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2 Tbs. Jamaican Rum</span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2 dried bay leaves<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">¼ tsp. whole allspice</span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1 cinnamon stick</span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Zest of one small orange</span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Put all ingredients in a jar, close the lid and place it in a dark place for at least two weeks. Strain through cheesecloth and pour into a clean bottle. Give it to a man you love. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5ilfLLKCfFE/T0qA0MgR2vI/AAAAAAAAALM/bZEq-wYn8xc/s1600/Bay+Rum+Jars.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5ilfLLKCfFE/T0qA0MgR2vI/AAAAAAAAALM/bZEq-wYn8xc/s400/Bay+Rum+Jars.JPG" width="257" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-15940363123614373992011-12-01T10:15:00.001-08:002011-12-01T10:15:24.156-08:00A Bit of This, A Little of That<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The external drive attached to my laptop is full of pictures that haven’t even been looked at since they were downloaded from my camera. It’s been a daunting task to sort through and begin editing them for use. And that use is right here on this blog. Blogging is more fun when I have a stash of photographs ready to post, and it’s easier to write if I have a picture to work from; it’s a good starting point. </span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And now, after sitting in this chair for two hours, I have to get up and move before my muscles start screaming at me. First, laundry (because it’s always better to do boring chores first), and then I’ll prep two bags of fruit from the freezer for jam-making. </span></div><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1948967211367357249.post-52771330634645782832011-11-29T16:38:00.000-08:002011-11-29T16:39:02.345-08:00Like I Need One More Hobby...<div style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Now I've added soap-making my list. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CNyEql_T2VU/TtV6ZF4uirI/AAAAAAAAAK0/Rao86ewR3BU/s1600/soap+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CNyEql_T2VU/TtV6ZF4uirI/AAAAAAAAAK0/Rao86ewR3BU/s400/soap+1" width="298" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Lavender Soap made with flowers from my front yard. </div>Deirdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10954439918908156147noreply@blogger.com1