Bzzzzz...

It’s been a hive of activity here at Wild Plum Cottage during the past few weeks. We’ve been painting, watching the garden grow (although the only thing I’ve harvested so far is six green beans – yeah, six), and working on the front yard.

We realized, after three back-breaking weekends, that there’s no way we can re-landscape the front yard by ourselves. So we hired someone to do it for us. What luxury. We’ve had a crew of three guys tearing out lawns, shrubbery, and small trees for two days. Tomorrow they’ll start working on terracing and laying bricks. After that they’ll lay out the drip system. Then we’ll pay them and do the planting ourselves. It’s going to be beautiful. There’ll be before, during, and after pictures when we’re done.

In the midst of all this busy-ness I’ve been canning like a fiend. The chocolate cherry wine sauce turned out amazingly delicious, but I’m not sure it’s safe to can. I put three jars through the water bath, admired them for about a day, got the willies, popped the seals, and refrigerated them. Botulism is a bad thing, and I don’t know enough about acidity to trust my own made-up canning recipe. But if I find out it’s a canning-safe recipe I’ll be slamming it into jars as fast as possible, because, honestly, it’s the best damn thing I’ve ever cooked. (And you, Miss Amber, will be first on my list of recipients.)

Ahhh, A Holiday

This is what we’ve been busy with for the past few weeks:

• Painting the downstairs ceilings – a huge project.
• Choosing a color for the kitchen walls.
• Deep cleaning one room at a time.
• Picking almost 12 pounds of cherry-sized plums.

Making and canning the following crazy delicious things:

• Cherries in Wine
• Brandied Cherries
• Plum Jam (51 jars!)
• Blackberry Jam
•  Trying to figure out if a reduction of zinfandel, cherries, cocoa powder and a few other ingredients is safe for canning, because, omigod, if it is, everyone on my Christmas list is going to looove me.

• Harvesting basil, making and freezing pesto.
• Harvesting lavender and hanging it to dry.
• Oh, and working full time.

Today we’re hanging out at home, resting, catching our breath, letting life slow down for a while. And remembering why I love living in this amazing, frustrating, busy, beautiful country of ours.

 

Happy Fourth!

Laundry Day

Today I may have stepped firmly into the land of crazy. I did laundry all day and loved every minute of it. You’re shaking your head right now, thinking, “It’s a pity she’s lost her mind. She seemed so … normal.”

Laundry is something I only do so I’ll have clothes to wear to work during the week. Because, honestly, is there anything more boring than sorting and folding clothes? No. Okay, maybe cleaning the bathrooms. But, as of today, hot damn & hallelujah, I have a clothesline.

My husband, bless his city boy heart, put up the clothesline this morning that’s been in the garage for two years. (I was very patient while he came to terms with the whole clothing flapping in the breeze thing.) Our agreement is that there will be no underwear hanging out for the neighbors to see. Fair enough. But there will be towels and sheets that smell like summer, and dresses that float on my skin, tee-shirts that go on crisp and soften with body heat.

Who needs yoga when I can stand in the sun and stretch from my toes to fingertips and bend deep to get another towel from the basket? Geese fly overhead twice a day, calling to the earth as they go. Ladybugs land on towels and have to be carried off to a shady tree so they won’t get folded into the linen cupboard.

Hanging laundry on the line is a simple pleasure. The small amount of extra time doesn’t seem like work, but rather like an escape to a place where I breathe a little more deeply and smile a whole lot more. Crazy? Who cares?

Ahhh...

The summer heat is finally here. We’ve had a few days when I’ve thrown open the windows and set out fans to move cooler air through the house. Maybe the rain is over for the season. We hope. It’s been a long, wet winter and I’m ready for consistently blue skies.

Last weekend we decided it was time to install a ceiling fan in my office. My husband is handy and had that thing wired and working in short order. Now I don’t have to use papers from my desk to fan away a hot flash. Hot weather + hot flashes = cranky & miserable. Ceiling fan = ahhh.

In The Garden

The duck that came to visit for a week.

A Sunday morning worth of yard cleaning.

Soaking Up The Sun

The weather was astoundingly beautiful this past weekend, sunny in a way that warms you all the way through. I can’t complain about the weather, because, really, it’s California after all. Not that we don’t have our share of rain. And then it rains some more. And then the news people start talking about flooding and landslides. Our winters can be pretty soggy. But it’s Spring now and Sunday was perfect. It was worth waiting for all Winter.

We were at the garden supply store before they even opened and sat for a while in the parking lot with our mugs of tea, planning our garden. We bought soil to amend the raised beds and enough vegetables and herbs to get a good start. I don’t know about you, but it’s pretty easy to over-buy, and then you’ve got 27 tomato plants and enough parsley to supply half the town. We restrained ourselves and bought just two Roma tomatoes, but still more parsley than we’ll ever need, along with a couple tomatillo plants, green beans, and basil. You can probably see where this is going – I’ll be freezing and canning what we don’t eat straight out of the garden. (I might get another tomato plant or two, just because.)

By noon we’d weeded all the raised beds, turned and moved the compost bin, replanted a struggling rosemary, and my husband made good use of the tiller he bought a couple months ago. The veggies are sitting in the kitchen in front of a big window – the weather turned yesterday with rain and a chance of hail. We’ll plant them later in the week.

Tending a garden calms me; it reminds me to stay in the moment while looking hopefully to the future. Besides, there’s nothing that tastes as good as a homegrown tomato.

What have you planted this year? How does your garden grow?

Back To Real Life (and a recipe)

This morning is the end of our vacation. By noon we’ll be back to our work-week schedule. As much as I love living unstructured days, I also need routine; it’s the way I’m wired. I function best with a starting point and a plan, but it’s really nice to step back from that once in a while and see what happens.

It was a great vacation. We spent a couple days in Monterey, walking through Cannery Row, visiting the Aquarium (so worth the cost of admission), having early morning coffee in Carmel, and wandering through the Carmel Mission. The weather was a little chilly in the mornings and evenings, but mid-day was glorious. Not bad for March.

We brought home swordfish from the Monterey wharf and artichokes from Castroville. They made a meal I’ll remember for a long time. Delicious. I also picked up a bag of baby artichokes to marinate. I’ll find out in a day or so if they’re delicious too.

Here’s the recipe:

3 quarts water
2 cups white vinegar

3 cloves garlic

1 teaspoon salt
24 baby artichokes, trimmed to edible stage – keep whole

(This recipe didn’t make enough marinade, so I had to make several batches.)
1 cup wine vinegar (I used red and white.)
1 cup vegetable oil (I used olive oil.)
½ tsp. garlic powder
3 Tbs. minced parsley

Bring water, white vinegar, garlic, and salt to a rolling boil. Stir in artichokes and continue stirring for one minute. Cover and boil 10-15 minutes or until tender. Drain and cool. Cut artichokes into halves or quarters. Snip off any purple leaves.

Mix together wine vinegar, oil, garlic powder, and parsley. Add artichokes. Stir, cover and refrigerate. Will keep several weeks in the refrigerator. Stir occasionally.

Slainte (Cheers)

I’m in a coffee shop right now, taking a break in my work day, enjoying the gift of late winter sunshine. We’ve had an awful lot of Irish weather this year – rain, rain, more rain. Then it rained again. Today people are in flip-flops and tee-shirts, not a jacket or umbrella in sight. Not a bad way to celebrate St. Paddy’s Day. I might have an Irish coffee later, most likely not (it’s bound to give me hot flashes).

Dinner is cooking in the crockpot – corned beef – with cabbage, potatoes, and carrots to be cooked when I get home. It’s a once or twice a year meal, not really traditionally Irish, but close enough. The cabbage and potatoes are traditional of course, but the corned beef doesn’t belong to us. (It has more flavor than the average Irish palate could imagine. And I’m sure someone will find this post and pounce all over me for saying that, but it’s true; I grew up on traditional Irish cooking and it’s booorrring.)

Honestly, the best part of Irish food is the bread and dairy foods. There’s nothing like a good thick slice of Irish bread slathered with butter. I didn’t make soda bread for the holiday, but might get to it this week sometime. Now that I’ve given it a bit of thought I may have to. Or, I might just make some custard. I cheat, of course. I haven’t a clue how to make actual custard, and don’t really care to learn, especially when I like the taste of Bird’s Custard so much.

So raise a glass, a fork or a spoon, and have a happy St. Paddy’s Day.
Slainte.

Breathing In

February is finally over. The shortest month of the year was too busy, packed with deadlines and long days that weren’t quite long enough. Or maybe it was that my energy was running short. In the middle of working extra days and hours I decided to take a short course at the local college and work on my taxes at the same time. Whew.

March is starting at a slower pace and I’m letting myself ease into more gentle projects around the house. Of course, after the craziness of the past six weeks there’s a lot of housework that needs catching up, but no one ever died from needing to dust the baseboards, so I’m not pushing too hard on those things. No, instead, I’m taking time to stare out the windows at trees whipping in the wind and big, fat raindrops splashing on pavement.

That’s what’s calling to me right now, the small moments that are coaxing me back to the present, making me feel the wonder of approaching spring. The air is clean and I’m inhaling huge gulps of it every day.

This time last year I was in over my head with caregiving. This year I’m done with that. There was terrible loss mixed in with the hectic joy of planning my wedding. My emotions swung from fear and stress to hopeful happiness. Today, right now, I’m on a more even keel. It’s a good feeling.

Maybe I’ll even get back to this page more often. I’m not going to make a promise or set a goal; instead I’ll let myself string some words together and see where it leads me.

Winter Nest

The rain has been pouring down here for a good portion of the last couple weeks. This year, for the first time in quite a while, I’ve been enjoying it tremendously. It’s good weather for nesting. We’ve done a bit of re-arranging the furniture, making a cozy office/studio space for me so my creative pursuits aren’t spread all over the house, but are instead corralled to one room. Makes the rest of the house feel more open and organized.
Of course, now that I have lots of space to be crafty, I’m finding I’d rather be in the kitchen. It’s citrus time and I’ve had an abundance of oranges and Meyer lemons, too many to eat or make lemonade (besides, it’s the wrong season for ice cold lemonade, brrr), so I’ve made orange-lemon marmalade and lemon bars. Let me tell you, they’re both so easy I don’t know why I haven’t made more before now.
Marmalade is nothing more than slices of citrus fruit, sugar, and water. It takes a while to cook to the gelling point, but oh, is it worth it. And lemon bars! I had no idea how easy these are to make. I’m not a baker by any means and if I can turn out a pan of something this yummy, well, anyone can. Really. You can find the recipe here.

It's Raining, It's Pouring

(Why we need rain.)

 It’s supposed to be storming right now, heavy rain and gusty winds. The weather forecasters have been advising that we’re going to get clobbered this week. We need it. We haven't had a normal amount of rainfall in several years, but it looks like we might get it all at once. It’s a day to stay home.

Right now the sun is breaking through, the sky is dark and clouds speed by, heavy with the next round of rainstorm. They’re beautiful when they’re lit by scattered sunlight.

Early this morning I dashed out to get grocery shopping done before the worst of the rain hit. I hate trying to unload grocery bags in the rain. Later I’ll roast a chicken - there’s nothing like filling the house with good, warm cooking smells on a rainy day - and finish the marmalade I started last night. That’s what today is all about - staying cozy and capturing orange sunshine.

What makes you feel cozy in the middle of winter?

Update - Wednesday night: The rain arrived, along with wind, thunder, lightning, and now, hail. We're into the fourth storm in four days with more to come. The sky has opened ferociously.

From Chaos

The great guest room/studio transformation of 2010 has begun. The bed we donated was picked up yesterday, making it easier to empty the rest of the room. There was more stuff in there than I’d realized. I’m apparently very good at stashing things away. Now that it’s mostly empty we my husband will paint the room a delicious color that will (hopefully) inspire me to be terribly creative.

In the meantime, my books, pictures, and boxes of I-don’t-know-what are shoved into the guest bathroom. It gives me the perfect opportunity to sort through it all when I move everything back.

It’s the beginning of a new year and the perfect time to let go of that which no longer serves me well. That’s my theme for this year, letting go. I’m not one to make resolutions, but this morning, while I was showering, I realized that I’ve let myself get pulled into other people’s drama too often, letting it color my happiness with worry and anxiety. Last year saw me get in over my head caring for other people. That’s no way to live.

I won’t say it won’t ever happen again –  that's setting myself up for failure  – but I’ll work very carefully to make sure I keep my feet planted in my own life. How I go about doing that is going to be a work in progress. While it will surely include exercise and making time to play, it will also mean asking myself how a thought or feeling or situation serves me. Can I really make a difference or am I just driving myself into the ground? It’s kind of a big life lesson.

So this year begins with sorting and choosing; what to keep, what to let go, asking how it contributes to my quality of life. Who knew such soul-searching could come from moving furniture?

Solstice

I’m sitting here at the computer wrapped in a blanket with a hot cup of tea in front of me. It’s cold and gloomy outside, and not so much better inside. Until I moved into this house I’d spent a good portion of my adult life heating with wood. Sometimes it was my only heat source. While I’d gotten tired of hauling wood – and making sure I had a good supply in before the first cold days – I’ve never fallen out of love with a good, roaring fire. Forced air heat doesn’t compare. There’s nothing to cozy up to and you can’t warm your toes on a heating vent in the ceiling. It doesn’t even look warm.

There are all sorts of reasons not to have wood fire; it’s bad for the environment, you have to cut down trees for fuel, it’s messy and time-consuming. But right now, honestly, I don’t care. I miss a fire. It’s really the only way I know to make a house toasty warm and welcoming during the dark winter days.

And here we are at the Winter Solstice - the shortest day of the year, the longest night, the day the light begins its return. I like to do a little ritual every year at this time to welcome warmth back to the world, inviting the light into my home. It makes me appreciate the winter more and keeps me aware that spring will come, no matter how dark and cold it is until then.

Until then I’ll light lots of candles and drink cup after cup of tea.

Ordinary

I like ordinary things. Plain, everyday things that have been lived with for a long time. New has little appeal for me, instead it’s the scratched piece, or the one with a dent I like. The well-loved, but not threadbare thing I, or someone else, have owned for years. There’s a sense of continuity that makes me feel at home.

When I look around my house I see the couch my husband brought from his first marriage (it’s in ridiculously good condition) and the china hutch I brought from mine, a cupboard my husband made using old glass doors I found at a garage sale, a desk I bought at an estate sale 27 years ago. And little things: cloth napkins that get softer with each washing, a small clock I can hear tick-tocking from the other side of the house, mixing bowls I’ve collected from thrift stores and garage sales, the afghan I crocheted while healing from my first heartbreak a lifetime ago.

They’re all ordinary things, simple belongings that remind me that I’m making a home to live in for a long time. They’re part of my future now, as well as my history.

What ordinary thing makes you feel cozy in your home? Does it have a story?