Featured this week in the usual, ordinary, commonplace, and regular activities of daily living I present the following:
Collected on a hike.
Cut from the garden.
Made in the kitchen.
Seen in the sky.
Eaten for breakfast.
Everything bagel with plain cream cheese how have I gotten through all these years without discovering your charms sooner?
Three things about last weekend that sustained me through the week and have me looking forward to the coming weekend include the following.
1. This cup of morning coffee. With the Sunday paper.
2. This spectacular sunrise, 7 minutes from home.
3. Sitting around watching this pot of succulents grow.
I am a simple person. My needs are few.
Happy Friday all. Tonight it's front porch/back porch, fog, and my first zinnias from the seeds that volunteered up from last year (plus a coneflower, plus mint, plus Thai basil).
With clouds + shadows on hostas thrown in for good measure.
Because ordinary and miraculous live side by side, in much the same way that joy and sorrow can both be sweet, I sometimes get mixed up about what is regular and what is amazing. But let me be very clear... the bottom 3 photos, while only so-so in the quality category, are wondrous in content.
The eggs have hatched, feeding is underway. There has been some fretting on my part when the mama seemed to be away from the nest "too much". Like I would know what is "normal". Fingers crossed.
Roses from my garden in a vase from a shop in Ft. Bragg, pandemic mail art deliveries, visiting cats, sunrise walks, clever signs, peony buds opening on the window sill, and an illustration cut out of last Sundays NYT's are among the things that have delighted me this week.
We are headed into summer here. Hot humid days means rising early to tend to anything that must be done out of doors. Cool showers in the afternoon, reading under the soft whir of a ceiling fan, all in the name of keeping things balanced.
When you are on a walk do you make up stories? For example ... about how you walked up this lane and turned to the right and on the porch sat a friend that you were delighted to see. But in greater detail... as in the house was a white wooden structure with a deep wide porch, with two gliders (complete with cushions) to sit on, and the sun was at just the right angle to keep you a little warm in the coolness of the morning.
And there was a nice table between the chairs with a tray that had an old fashioned silver coffee service with a pitcher of cream and a glass bowl with sugar cubes, as well as a basket with a hand embroidered cloth covering freshly baked cookies for your friend and scones for you. And you sat there and talked about how life could be so hard some days but with moments like this you believed you could get through. Then a fluffy cat walked by and rubbed on your legs and plopped it's head down on your friends foot. And there was nothing else you had to do the whole day long. Unless you wanted to, and if you did you could just get up and go, no explanation needed.
While I am at it, I will also admit that sometimes when I am on one of my extremely early morning walks, when no one is around, and I might be listening to music, I occasionally get the urge to lift my arms and move them like I am a bird drifting on a soft current. In case you were wondering, I do not make wild bird calls or hoot like an owl. Not out loud.
I believe in giving my mind free reign to wander in any direction it needs when it is outside of the confines of work. Over the years I have come to appreciate a good solo walk as the best springboard for all sorts of adventures.
Three things that I enjoyed this past weekend were: store bought flowers, reading about war time journals in the Sunday NYT, and discovering that I really do actually like fresh raspberries. Especially with meuslix or yogurt for breakfast. I have in the past thought they had too many seeds. It's good to continue to expand your food horizons at any age. Sister said "blackberries are next". I told her I was drawing the line there.
There were also puffy white clouds with sunshine, a short period of rain, and the ongoing parade of blooming things to make it all pretty much good.
I got sucked into looking at recipes for savory quick breads, because. Just because. Sometimes I find myself just sitting and staring when I could be "accomplishing" something. Then I remind myself that is unnecessary.
When/if I do decide to make some savory quick bread because it sounds like it would be good right out of the oven, slathered with butter, and accompanied by a glass of wine, I will be certain to let you know. So you can join me as a card-holding member of the "because movement".
In case you are interested, incubation continues on the front porch of Tall Tales headquarters. The porch has been divided and agreements signed. Chris and I stay away from the nest, the robin avoids the rocking chairs, especially at cocktail time.
The Japanese maple turned on the charm overnight this past weekend. It's just splendid.
A Japanese maple leaf in the right light is just about one of the most beautiful things there is. Amen to a whole lot of beauty right now.
The oak leaf hydrangea is pushing out new leaves like nobody's business. I think the maple and it are competing for some kind of award.
Out back this statue from Angie's garden stands guard over a small bunch of tulips that were planted way back in 2008. I don't know why they have not been eaten by squirrels or how they keep performing when most of the rest that I have planted over the years have stopped. I am grateful.
By the way, we did end up watching Harvey on Easter. Just the kind of viewing needed during Coronavirus times. Sweet, funny, a little madcap, and of course it's got Jimmy Stewart in it. What more needs to be said?
This morning after cleaning off the table, drinking a cup of coffee, and making sure the redbud tree out front had suffered no ill effects from the "hard" freeze overnight, I FaceTimed brother.
I told him I was about to spend $195.00 on a pair of mail order shoes that I could not try on, and wondered what he would do in this situation. Truthfully, I was thinking he would talk me down. He responded "well sister, I have two schools of thought on that". He noted we are older, our feet our important, we have always been of the mind that it's ok to pay "good money" for quality things, and dad used to tell us to buy the best in terms of our golf shoes. I stopped him before he presented position #2 so he wouldn't change my mind. The one he had just helped me make up with his 4 salient points.
Once this critically important decision had been made, I took a photo of the cauliflower I was about to roast because it seemed really beautiful to me. On my quick walk today I noted the appearance of the yellow flower that blooms after forsythia and daffodils.
Tonight we are watching Yours, Mine, and Ours with Henry Fonda and Lucille Ball.
The garden, talking to your family, making questionable decisions, ordinary beauty, looking at the bright side of things you cannot change, and a good dose of old fashioned humor are all examples of the coping skills I am employing today. Along with a dinner of Chris made salisbury steak, mashed potatoes, mixed vegetables, a crusty roll with butter, and a generous glass of cabernet. I can recommend each of these things individually but really encourage you follow my lead and do them all. Substitutions that satisfy your personal preferences are encouraged. No extra charge.
The other day in the middle of refilling my coffee container with a bold rich blend of Italian Roast (the motorcycle on the front and the memory it evoked of the motorcycle riders we saw in Bavaria had nothing to do with my selection), Chris hollered from the laundry room - "hey look at this, come here!"
So I of course dropped everything, ran in there, and he pointed out a big owl sitting on top of the lamp-post right in front of the house. Which of course made me run for the camera, acting as though I had never seen an owl in my entire life.
Which is completely not true - Sister and I just saw some last year at the Douglas Family Preserve in Santa Barbara - but I digress.
He was as curious about me as I was about him and he swiveled his head around to follow my movements. He did not swoop down and land on my head, or snatch my hat, or anything dramatic like that. Still it was a moment that needed recording. Though I will admit, to seeing how some individuals could think I am going overboard about our personal owl siting.
In about 20 years when we are rocking on the porch talking about the "old days when we lived through the coronavirus pandemic" Chris will probably reach over and poke me and say (in a very excited tone) "and remember that day we saw the owl?", and I will pat his arm and say "yes honey"... like old folks do.
P.S. you knew I was going to show you a photo of this man on his Vespa didn't you? I was also going to show you the photo of the chocolate/cherry Bavarian torte we had with coffee at the cafe we were sitting at when we saw this. But that would have been going too far.
Sometimes when I start making photo collages, it's hard to stop. I made this one the other day when I made the one of some of my favorite moments. All these moments were lovely too.
I would also like to report on two other things I accomplished the day I arranged photos into a pleasing grid.
#1: Got rid of the fake tree in the basement (neither Chris or I have any memory of) that we had before we got the one we have now which by the way, we may (not today) need to replace because a whole section of lights isn’t working and has been deemed “unfixable”.
2: Opened a bottle of champagne even though I was only going to drink several glasses with orange juice for breakfast and the rest went to waste.
If the rest of 2020 turns out to be this productive/instructive it's going to be a BANNER year.
After contemplating how in 2020 I could strive to be better, kinder, healthier, more productive, less frivolous, neater, and more fit, I have decided instead to just keep on my present path. Waking up each day, tending to what needs done, in the manner I am most capable of at the moment in time when I am undertaking it. Which is why this post was sorted into the "completely mundane" category. Also because there is not a "totally lame" category. But one could be added. I could certainly strive to do that in 2020.
Below are some of my most favorite moments of 2019. All accomplished despite my imperfections and foibles. Somehow confirming my plan for the coming year.
Happy New Year!
I have corn and green Chile on my mind and am searching for THE perfect recipe that uses these ingredients for Thanksgiving. In my mind it is a "plain-ish" side dish. No cheese or binders, not a casserole. Just corn, roasted hatch green Chile, some onion, salt & pepper. Before I just throw all that in a skillet and call it good, please let me know if you have a favorite recipe like this in your Thanksgiving wheelhouse. And if so, please share the recipe.
I'll just be here waiting. Watching as the leaves finish falling. Noticing the color and the light, how the green grass pushes through.
The list of completely ordinary things that have been happening around here lately includes pressing leaves, baking an acorn squash, buying store flowers, and washing blueberries.
Leaf looking continues to provide much delight, especially when cats follow you as you look, sometimes threatening to climb trees.
The Fall 'over-the-table-light' adornment was put in place, and perhaps my greatest accomplishment was the wet-blocking, or stretching, or whatever you call the process for getting your needlepoint back into a somewhat square shape so you can get it framed.
I will admit to being a bit nervous about it, but I followed the same principles used for blocking knitted items, after I checked with Joan (who has done this about a million times). She provided the reassurance I needed to just go for it. Sing it with me now ... ♫ that's what friends are for.
On a recent early morning stroll, I walked by this pond, and took a picture.
Three things that I did not take pictures of were:
1. A giant spider in the middle of a lacy cobweb that was covered in morning mist
2. The woman walking three dogs with wagging tails, who waved at me merrily, as she continued to talk to the pups who appeared to be hanging on her every word
3. The small grove of tall cottonwood trees whose leaves were being rustled (vigorously) by the morning breeze
If you close your eyes, I am certain you can see it all in your minds eye, as clearly as if I had photographed them.
I like my Sunday New York Times served with a side of flowers. Or two.
After a walk. With the coffee brewing. Coming back and forth throughout the morning. Giving proper time for one bit of reading to be stored away for retrieval before beginning a new topic. The clerks in the filing department of my brain are slow deliberate workers. If rushed, they put things where they don't belong or drop files on purpose. Both of which are best avoided.
The zinnia's were planted 5/30, the seeds germinated on 6/1, they survived the inch of rain that fell in a one hour time frame on 6/3, and this is what they looked like on 6/5 when I did my after work garden inspection rounds. The larger one you see in the back is a volunteer that came up from last year. I have about 6 or 7 of them too.
Stuff like this excites me. The red husker penstemon below are at their peak right now.
Such a wonderful, reliable, care-free, flower that is easily spread but not overly invasive.
Something else surprising and exciting this week was a turtle spotting in my yard.
I have never noticed those bright orange markings on a turtle before. Whichever of you is a turtle expert do tell me... is this common? Maybe I just haven't seen enough turtles yet in my life. In which case, I better start doing more looking.
Thistles are blooming right now too.
These are not in my garden, I pluck them as soon as I see them coming up there. But I certainly can appreciate them on a walk.
Particularly when set against a nice blue sky.
Instead of going to the St. Patrick's day parade on Sunday we stayed home and trimmed the rose bushes, played with the Harvey boys, made shortbread cookies, and arranged daffodils.
Cutting, making, looking, tasting, and appreciating. It was simply marvelous.
Today is about some of the ordinary moments that occurred around PS Art Retreat No. 7, and are continuing today, at home.
Routine things. Like going to breakfast with your sister.
Or writing in the Blurb books that she made. To keep track of our anything but customary adventures.
Appreciating pom-pom sculptures and mosaics in the sidewalk.
Admiring the artistry of bakers and illustrators. On display for anyone to see as they carry on with the regular habits of daily life.
Noticing the enchanting among the ordinary is a habit worth cultivating.
Another basic activity on all trips to LA is the walk through of Sister's garden. This includes explanations of where cuttings came from, where they have been most recently transplanted from, how they like/dislike their current location, where they will be moving to in the future.
I came up with a good plan this year as she was taking me on a tour of her succulents.
I decided I would load up all my pots, drive them to her house in October, and leave them at Moss Cottage to winter over.
Then, I will return in my chariot and pick them up in May. Good idea huh?
Not one bit ridiculous.
Today, instead of a piece of that sweet potato loaf that you saw in photo #5 above, which was very delicious by the way, blueberries and pears were served up. The perfect way to start this completely commonplace Saturday, and with that, I raise my coffee to you in salute of the ordinary.
This week's rundown of everyday, ho-hum, minimally interesting things that have been happening around here.
Mason jars hanging in windows in downtown Lawrence.
Altocumulous clouds in the sky at 3:15 in the afternoon.
The front porch fountain. Sans water. Getting festivized.
Discovery of a new side dish/salad/perfect lunch. I better stop there. Anything else would throw this post over the top and out of the category of completely mundane. Which would mean changing the category. And I ain't got time for no nonsense like that.
Helpful links:
Cauliflower Green Bean Roasted Chick Pea Salad
This week's ordinary activities that were quite enjoyable, in spite of their routine-ness included (but were not limited to) studying the growth of the front porch succulents,
marveling at teeny tiny roses,
walking,
cutting and roasting a butternut squash,
washing the farmers market lettuce for salads,
prepping for dinners this week by making side dishes ahead of time,
appreciating this amazing blue,
putting together a collection of the smallest zinnias in a juice glass to go in the window in front of the sink so I can look at them while I wash dishes,
observing what was growing on this railing,
and finally, and I really hate to put this in a post I have categorized as completely mundane, checking out this box of animal crackers. Just to be sure the taste still measures up in the new "cage-free" packaging.
You'll be glad to know it does. Actually I think they taste even better. But just to be sure, Chris purchased several packages, so that we might assess consistency between boxes.
Sometimes, when you play your cards just right, you come home with something that goes with everything you already have.
Like this past weekend. When I had just THE vase for my farmers market bouquet.
AND, it went perfectly with the table runner that was already on the table, saving me from rummaging, shaking, trialing, and the like.
If only all my clothing purchases worked out in such a serendipitous fashion. Oh the time and aggravation it would save me.
The thing is, I bought this arrangement because I loved the unexpectedness of the succulents and the cool green of the hydrangeas. That seems like a formula that would not translate easily to wearables. Unless I decide to only wear green. Which could work, come to think of it.
Three random things that made me happy this week.
A rabbit mug, kid writing, and dark chocolate. Does it get any better?
It has come to this. Photos of bok choy, mushrooms, knitting, and the beginnings of tax preparations. Attending to the necessary.
You will notice that I added the category of "completely mundane" in order to have a spot where this post could even be filed.
