lady cordelia

ghee and things.

K.  Here's the deal.  I'm in love with the cookbook in my reading sidebar.  The Heidi Swanson "Super Natural Everyday" cookbook.  I don't "love" cookbooks.  I'm just not that kind of girl.  But.  I love it.  So there.

Why do I love it?  Well, it's healthy and all.  The recipes are cool.  Like, last night I made the quinoa patties.  Yes.  You heard me right.  Quinoa patties.... made with quinoa of course, breadcrumbs (I even used the Cuisinart!) ducks eggs, onions, chives and so forth...(she uses chives a lot.  I happen to have them in my garden. This makes me feel successful.) And they browned in the pan just like the book said they would.  I almost fainted. (We had them as a side with fish and sauteed kale.)   I put a little sour cream on top of le patties.  You betcha.

But really what I love about the book are the photos.  The quality of the paper the book is printed on. I know.  Sounds weird.  But get a copy and you will see what I mean.  You will want to cook. Yeah. You will! Uh-huh!  (And remember, I live in California.  I get no money from Amazon if you use any the Amazon links on my site. So I'm never pushing you towards buying in that capitalistic sort of way.  It's truly out of pure love.)

I'm sooooo into clarified butter (ghee) right now.  I'm not even sure why.  But I know it has a higher smoking point than Olive Oil.  And plus, I like the taste of butter just a little bit better than Olive Oil.  Mostly, I like the way it looks in a Mason Jar.  I make it myself.  It's easy.  Use it to make popcorn.  And Stuff.  K.

I'm kind of all into cooking and everything.  Finally at 40.  Almost 40.  You know this about me.   Neat.

 

 

typewriter

I have this thing about old typewriters.
Are you surprised?
And I never set out to look for one.
You know-
It was one of those things.

But then a friend dropped one off on my doorstep
Today
with a lot of other items for my kids.
A chair that spins around.  Purposefully.  And that’s all it’s meant to do.
It’s low to the ground.
(From Ikea.
I love Ikea.
The Brad won’t let me shop there.
I get it.)

Anyway.
These things kept us occupied for hours.
The typewriter.
The well-worn chair from Ikea.

It’s a kid chair.
I couldn’t fit in it.
Sure.

So
I figured out how to make the typewriter unstick
(you know how the keys can all glob together)
And when I got it to work
I worried about where I would ever get more ink.
I’m like that.

And I left the room & looked online quickly.
Saw it was possible.
Phew.

Went back to the typewriter.
And then I sat typing & for a moment
I thought about being a kid

how I used to sit in my dad’s office
typing on a typewriter
his voice on the phone
always confident
& leaning back in chair
feet crossed on desk

me on a typewriter
not unike this one.

Today I typed these words:
“let’s be together forever.”
cause that's what came to me.
I'm like that.

The comma came out as an apostrophe.
It’s been a while
since I’ve used a typewriter.

the impact of everythingness - a weekend.

This weekend I connected with a very long-time (and out-of-state) friend who came to visit. This was sweet fun.

I also hung out with new friends who share my love of thrifted furniture.  This was inspiring. I liked that their house was not perfectly tidy. 

I love being inspired by things that support me letting go of my insidiousness. (e.g. trying to keep a house clean with small children living in it.)

I came home to my home with a new appreciation of all my second-hand stuff. And a strong desire to go thrift-store shopping.

The Brad worked on enlarging the chicken and duck coops on Saturday.  Very exciting.  He told me to not try and work on it myself while he was at work today.  He was quite firm about this order.  I was a good girl and did not pick up the drill.  (Yet.)

Photo today is of the cute little playhouse we finally moved to a sweeter place in the yard.  I was in need of a photo.  Whatever. I'm tired.

A long day parenting alone with little sleep and then a lost chicken who didn't come back to the coop at night make for not the best of evenings. 

Who knew one day I would worry over a missing chicken.  In the bushes.   With a flashlight.  Making chicken sounds.  While my children, who are bothering me because they should be asleep, are on their way out to the swingset in the dark.  Fumbling with shoes.  Not listening to me.   I want to pull my hair out.

Who knew one day I would bake bread in 100 degree weather.

Who knew I would have to explain to a friend, that parenting sucks the life out of me.  And even though I love it more than anything, I really don't have time for tea today.

This is my life.  It's cool.  I can barely keep my eyes open.

linking with Amanda for weekending.

joy moments

My Joy Moments of the week are as follows:

•  Enjoying passing moments with little hands and little flowers.  (This is most important.)
  

• Having invested in enough ingredients and cookbooks to wake up and bake without having to go to the store. Yep.  I feel like I've truly arrived somewhere in the cooking world.  Only took me 39 and 1/2 years!  This morning: Oat Cakes. Big time yum in tum. (Heidi Swanson.)
  
  
• Knowing that it's ok to let go when something isn't working out.  (This particular thing was, shall we say, work- related.)   Sometimes you have to hang in there, sometimes you have to let it go.  Knowing the difference is a joy pocket.  Even if it smarts a little.
  
  
• The internal incentive to keep going and following my heart regardless of what things may look like on the outside. 
  
  
• This by Bukowski:
  
  unless the sun inside you is
  burning your gut,
  don't do it.
  when it is truly time,
  and if you have been chosen,
  it will do it by
  itself and it will keep on doing it
  until you die or it dies in you.
  there is no other way.
  and there never was.
  
  
  linking today's moments with soulemama and bohemian twilight
  

I like...

I like rusty chairs.  Not all of them.  And not everywhere.  But I do like them.  So sue me. This one came from next door, the elderly lady who left her home for a nursing home about 7 years ago. Every once in a while family comes to clear out more stuff from the house.  And I get another rusty chair. 

I like rusty plant stands.  Not all of them.  And not everywhere.  But I do like them.  So sue me again. This was my mama's.  Sometimes she gets rid of rusty plant stands.  I am her only kid.  So I get all of them.  I like being an only child.

This is not Pottery Barn.  Not even Target.  Big Suprise, eh?  This is free stuff.  People get rid of stuff.  I take it.  (Not all of it and not all time time, mind you.) I spray-painted the table, haven't gotten to the metal chairs.  The rattan chair is a favorite of mine.  It came from someone with very good taste who I like a lot.  She moved to LA.  That is a chicken butt in the background.  And a cement buddha.  Chicken butts and cement buddhas are all the same in the big scheme of things. 

I like pots.  Rarely buy them new.  Thift,  yard sales, give aways. Period.

 
Duck: $12/Criagslist.  Full grown.  1 year old. Lays eggs.  Bought 2 of 'em.
Tub for duck to swin in: $2 /Estate Sale.
That's how I roll.

Let's see.  What else.  Oh, just stuff.  You know. Hanging angel, succulents, antique garden fence. All give aways or yard sale or thrift store. 

I could go on and on.  But I don't want to keep you and you don't want to keep me.
Love you.  See you tomorrow.

 

 

Into The Fall ~ A weekend.

Without believing it, there is a shift in the trees.  The big Chinese Elm in our yard is shedding bits of powdery debris, the papery coverings of its annual seeds, I'm thinking.  Fall is approaching.

Our 5-year-old who has been at home with us up until now is going to Kindergarten next week.  A sweet little school down the way that has been in service since the late 1800's.  She is very excited.  The school is very small and public and there is always a waiting list. We got word that a place had opened up just a little while ago.  It will be interesting to see if this is the right route for our girl.  We are highly open-minded.

It is a busy time. B's Work, the kids, keeping up the house, the yard, the animals, my new passion for cooking, knitting (again), keeping up with the music (literally) as I have shows and there is hardly time to practice.  And the blog.

By the way- I made bread this weekend that looks like a shoe (says the three-year-old.) Kind of tastes shoe-y too.  Let me get this straight: not good to forget about rising bread for several hours and bake it anyway. Whoopsie.

As I write this, The Brad is snoring loudly in bed behind me.  Sundays are long for him. He leaves the house at 4:30 a.m. and gets back at 10 p.m.  It's a lot. On Mondays I have all sorts of ideas about things I want to do cause I've had all Sunday to think about everything that needs doing but that I need help with.  This annoys The Brad.

In all seriousness: Our passions carry us through.  Our energy for what we love. We can't let even one passion fall to the wayside or we would miss that one too much.  So we are busy.  And that is that. All the while watching our girls grow in leaps and bounds.  Can't even stop to think about holding on to one precious moment.  It flies away and as it does, we start to long for it again... but our attention is quickly caught by the next. And the next.

Do you know what I mean? Each moment so beautiful that we are simply, always taken away with it. Almost. Then another moment comes. Like the seasons turning.  Can not stop them.

linking with Amanda for Weekending.

joy moments outside

Loving these Joy Moments:

In general folks, we're soaking up the rest of Summer.  This particular moment was an after dinner shot.  Eat outside, have a glass of wine.  Who needs pedicures when you have $2 blue nail polish.  Joy.

 

Took girls on  their first long hike (1/4 mile each way) to a secret "fairy's waterfall."  Joy. 

A joyous and much needed delivery of 2 scoops of pea gravel.  This was accompanied by rearrangement of stepping stones + outside furniture in areas that were (badly) dug up by the dogs and looking super nasty. I couldn't even bring myself to take a "before" shot.   Amazing what a little pea gravel, a wheelbarrow, a shovel and The Brad can do!  I love new pea gravel.  I love The Brad. Joy.

Joyfully excited about: plans to have the playhouse moved and connecting the chicken and ducks coops into one very large coop thus getting the birds off our only lawn area so my furry daughter (below) will not eat duck poo and the rest of us won't step in it. (Yes, chickens and ducks can live together.  I know, it's amazing. Oh Joy. )
Another bloom of roses?  Didn't see this one coming.  Thanks to this fertilizer my friend told me about.  Holy Organic Garden Bliss! JOOOY!

So much to be thankful for this Friday and always.

XO

Joining This Moment and Joy Pockets today.  Thanks Ladies!

 

 

 

 

the unlikely cook

  

Here's the thing.

Up until a few years ago I wanted nothing to do with cooking, much less baking.  The man I married happens to cook.  This is sheer magic.  I got to have a family without learning how to cook. 

But somewhere in the past year I have become interested..

...in vinegars, for example, out of nowhere. Red, white, balsamic, raspberry, orange muscat... What's the deal with so many? I would find myself asking no one in particular. 

Then, I somehow fell in love with the world of baking and my kitchen floor suddenly turned turned a powdery unbleached white (or wheat, or rye, depending on the day.)

THEN, I began showing up for dinner just a little early and asking The Brad what I could help with. The first time I did this he looked at me as as if I had spouted antennas and was speaking in tounges.  He said: You're not  feeling well honey.  Sit down.  Take it easy.  Have a glass of wine.  Breathe. 

Then, I ordered cookbooks and kept checking online to see when they would arrive.  (A little obsessive, but in a good way no?)

It has happened.  I am interested in food.  I thought food was just around to make a person full so they could have energy to do the next thing, but it turns out to be more than that.  It's an art form.  A connection.  An expression.  And THAT is all stuff I understand.

As some of you know, my interest actually started out as fear.  And now, it's becoming a little more pleasurable.   The Brad really is a great cook- he doesn't follow recipes.  He's creative and learns by experimenting.  He is not sharp on the technical "basics" of cooking.  He just cooks from the heart.  I, on the other hand, am a little bit of a control freak.  I follow recipes to the "T" for the most part.  (I get irritated at The Brad when he says I can loosen up a bit.)

But The Brad comes in very handy.  I spattered Peanut Butter Ice Cream on the ceiling tonight (don't ask).  Brad is 6'1.   And he doesn't ask questions.  He just says flat out: What the f***.  He says it in the absolute nicest way it can be said.  Kind of.  I mean.... I know...I'm kind of a lot to handle sometimes, so I get it.

I also made a salad from the book on my reading list (left) and a rye soda bread from the same book.  The Brad BBQ'd chicken.   Everyone loved the Peanut Butter Ice Cream that I made so much that my oldest daughter cried when it was gone.  Brad kept saying...I've never tasted ice cream so good.  He said it in that really quizzical surprised way so I know he wasn't kidding.  Plus, the salad and the bread left a little something to be desired. So, when the ice cream worked out, I felt strong.

I think the bread will be good tomorrow.  With coffee you know.  And cream.  And The Brad and my little women.

Anyway, I'm tired.  It's been a very long day. 

Lots of love to you,

Me.

wake up.

I'm taking myselff off August Break.
Let's be honest, my blog is full of just the same amount of photos and words as it was before.  I'm hitching a free ride when others really are following the essence of a "break."  Or something like that.   I'm not good at breaks, I guess.  Unless I'm in Hawaii.  Which I'm most usually not.  I've noticed.

And guess what else. I got my first "rude" comment yesterday.  (And no, it has nothing to do with my above paragraph. No one chewed me out for posting too many words.)  But this comment, it was so startling.  I would say it was a slap in the face but it was more like a little pinch on the upper inner arm.  Why someone would waste their time picking on what I find to be a most benign blog...well, it's just very bizarre.

  
Oh well. 

Cause every moment given is an opportunity if you'll take it.  It sounds ridiculous, but it's true.  Every thought is a choice.  It sounds impossible but maybe it's not.  It might take a little hard work.  Or a lot, even. And it might take some patience.  And it might just take a snotty remark once in a while to wake me up and carry myself back to the heart of what really matters: What I want to follow.  What I want to exemplify.  Believe in myself. Believe in yourself.

  
Keep going.

 

a weekend of bagels, baseball and brevity.

Homemade bagels from this wonderful baking book that I use a lot.

Homemade tomato sauce from this awesome blog that has inspired me (and countless others) beyond measure over the years.  (More about that another time, perhaps?)  And: yes the jars are empty because the tomato sauce is cooking.  Ok?  Use your powers of imagination to see the tomato sauce in the jars and you just saved me (and yourself) from yet another digital photo.

Homemade ball player who cracked her bat with a hit right after this shot was taken.  Wow. 

Oh, and guess what!? My kids are so very, very, very brilliant and artistic and funny and warm and generally delightful.  Ohhhhh...I know it's a little immodest, or show-offy, or something, to mention such things.  But, come on, don't all parents feel like that (most times) about their kids?  I would hope so.

A 5-year-old (girl) who hit the ball so hard and spot on she cracked the bat?  A little three-year-old outfielder yelling "I got it, I got it!" Brilliant. I tell you.  Sheer Brilliance.  I would love to say they got this sports "edge" from me, but not so.  When I filled out my high school application and it asked what sports I participated in I wrote in the large space provided: "I hate all sports." 

Another neato thing this weekend was: frozen watermelon spears which I didn't take a photo of cause I'm PMSish and therefore fully and totally flawed. (I'm actually somewhat flawed without the PMS but the flaws just don't bother me as much.)

My kids have no flaws and I have at least several on a very good day.  That is how I see it.  I am very honest here.  You can always expect that from me.  Isn't that nice to know?

As far as the "brevity" in this post goes.  I guess I missed the mark.  Trying to be more succinct in these August Break posts.   Failing.  See!  A flaw.

linking with Amanda for Weekending and....