Friday, April 29, 2011

•tickle tickle•

"{this moment}: A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words..."
Tagging along with Amanda Blake Soule today.

Friday, April 22, 2011

•California disbelievin', take two•

By what dumb luck did I arrive here, exactly?

Remind me, because I'm too dazzled by the shades of pink and orange and gold to know much of anything this week.


Thursday, April 21, 2011

The Way Home

At midnight, in a gentle rain, I snipped cuttings from the giant geranium in my old front yard. Inside the house, I gave an overgrown pathos a haircut. A few snips from a giant jade plant, bits that will never be missed.

Back at the house where I'm staying, I placed the cuttings carefully in water, the jars a small jumble of sizes and shapes, some with labels on. Anything looks beautiful with a plant in it. I placed the jars on a small wooden book shelf--the lightweight, fold-out kind I've loved since college. This particular shelf holds classic vegetarian cookbooks, not my copies, but many that I own.

There's something about this setup that reminds me of who I am, what I love. What I've always loved: The unexpected contrast of green leaves and flowers in a glass jar with a scrappy old label. The simple shelving I can carry by myself if I have to. Vegetarian cookbooks. The whole thing has a homey, earthy, Laurel's Kitchen vibe that soothes me. A wood stove would complete the image--maybe topped by a Dutch oven full of soup or stew. Maybe the Turkish Spinach and Lentil from Sundays at Moosewood, yes? Loaves of bread and jars of homemade yogurt off to the side, rising and fermenting in the warmth, each according to its preference.

Now the plants will grow new roots, and so will I. One pot of stew, one loaf of bread, one jumble-jarred batch of flowers or yogurt at a time.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

•there doesn't seem to be anyone around•

I think I'll throw up now...
the beating of my heart is the only sou-ound.

Monday, April 18, 2011


Outside this window, there are trees. Just the right size for me to look up from my work and see entire graceful trunks and branches curving upward, offering their leaves like open fingers--not grasping, but reaching and ready to accept. Sunlight, rain, a change in season and all its gifts.

•let metaphor•

and if not metaphor, then water. Let water do the work for you.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

•write of spring•

Orange blossom simple syrup. Kumquat jam with green almonds. A dark spray. (Frozen) blueberry pancakes, complete with accidental Millenium Falcon. Impromptu dinner for nine on the deck. Sparkling wine, bread. Hummus with last year's thyme and purple sage. Cream of greens soup with brie, vermouth, kohlrabi, and turnip. Pasta salad. Peeps. (Though we haven't managed these yet.) "Mommy! I want a squirrel pet! I want a shy squirrel pet." Your turn: how is your Spring shaping up?

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

•rhino in the tea room•

Man. Sometimes a person needs to vent. But can't exactly front-and-center the venting on her cutesie blog. Grr! And arg! And a generous helping of boo-hiss. At least there's a precedent for this at Half-Assed...

Do tell, dear reader: what's stuck in your craw today? Feel free to post your unbloggables in the comments. Bury them here, if you must.

And now, an idyllic picture of the maple syrup my brother sent from Schenectady:

Art's neighbor made it, and it is delicious. Grade S for "Suburban"!


Tuesday, April 12, 2011

•first word•

The "R" is a little impressionistic, but Penn has penned his very first word. On a shopping list, at Daddy's behest. On Daddy's lap.

Is every parent this much in love with their kid's artistic renderings? I'm gonna have to go with yes. Amanda Blake Soule, I get your pillows. xox

At ArtBeast in Sacramento.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

The Tired Place

Penn: Amy, I want you to come play with me.

Me (from my chair at the dining table): Well Penn, I'm a little tired, so I think I'm going to stay here right now.

Penn (taking my hand): Well, I think you should come to the other tired place, where it's cozy and warm. And soft.

(So we went to the big chair in the living room, and cuddled, and chatted, and listened to Mozart and Girlyman.)

Friday, April 1, 2011

•just this•

Feeling kind of square in a round, round world. xox