painterly...

i painted for hours today.  one hundred and four years

ago whoever built our house put a small metal fence 

around the property.  i'm fairly certain that was the last

time it was painted.  hoping that i can finish in

one more long day.

so long, january...

green is the color...

we spent more time outdoors than in this last

weekend in january.  tired and content.

my smart friend....

"I have found that when life sends you an invitation to a Pity Party it's always best to RSVP a decisive 'No, thank you.' Yes, the thought seems appealing...but the food, company, and attire are invariably sub-par. And they are Very Difficult to Leave."

this was my friend, susan's, facebook status this morning.

she's a (maybe)accidental genius at knowing where humor

is the best bandaid.

  

 just made reservations to go back here in a few weeks....

loads to be thankful for.

against the wind...

today was a long one.  

i'm not even sure why. worn out and a bit deep down sad. 

i fell asleep at a stop light

after picking up roxie.  startled awake when someone

honked.  what's that about?  

i think i even drooled.  

sometimes just moving my hands, keeping them

busy can ward that kind of thing off so i 

made some soup and bread for supper. 

this soup is always just right, especially 

when the garden is full of kale.  the bread is 

 'everything bread'. 

i don't have exact amounts for the soup, but you can't

mess it up.  the pic above is all washed out

and misleading. 

it's actually rainbow bright.

Kale Soup

yellow onion, diced

couple serrano peppers, minced

2 Tbsp. garlic, minced

15 oz. diced tomatoes

potato; peeled, diced

sweet potato; peeled, diced

can cannelloni beans (or great northern) rinsed

1-2 bunches kale; stemmed, chopped

6-8 cups vegetable stock

parsley

3 tsp. italian seasoning

salt

saute onion, peppers, and garlic in olive oil.  add remaining ingredients and simmer until potatoes are tender. top with parmesan. 

i've added summer sausage and almost always add cheese tortellini the last 10 minutes. 

summer sleeping porch...

the old-lady house has a summer sleeping porch. 

this spot was well thought out.  it's very high up

to grab even the faintest whisper of a breeze.  

it faces east; brilliant bright in the mornings, 

aptly ducking out of the searing western summer sun.

it has more window than walls, superb for lying on the

floor and feeling perched in a tree.  i recently

emptied the room, painted it white,(truthfully, 

i painted it a burnt orange..blech ,

 then dark red..eww, before realizing white was ideal), 

found a plush wool rug, and a bean bag. for 11 months i sat

in this room as my favorite nursing spot with roxie. 

i've watched spring buds

slowly emerge from the walnut tree that shouldn't 

be thriving here, and pretty snowflakes fall slow-motion

past the window-walls.

i've decided i like it most spare. i'm on a search for

a low, round, wood table and that's going to be that.

a spot for my beer. a spot for my butt.

that's that.

my meditation spot. 

winter garden..

spring yearning.  in winter, it seems like everything outside is 

hibernating. sleeping. suspended. today i took time to walk slowly, glance carefully. there were bees on blooms!

who knew!?  and there they've been only steps out the backdoor.

i'm sitting indoors; wishing for spring and missing sneak

peeks just under my nose. 

buds on fig tree..

'freckles' romaine, dill, and beets

 onions i missed harvesting last year, dill and rainbow chard

 moss i picked up months ago in oklahoma and set in 

the bird bath where it feels at home.

january spring...

texas can be brutal in the summer. true.

but, for much of the year we have windows thrown

open on tuesday and fireplaces aflame on wednesday.

yesterday was 74.  today 48.  tomorrow forecast to be 68.

this schizophrenic weather suits me. easily distracted.

consistently inconsistent. embodiment of change out 

each window. texas is surely a gemini.

(ps. best not to ask me about this during a texas august.) 

(roxie rockin' the hopscotch)

(homemade 'stink bomb' from magnets and gathered junk)

sourdough pretzels..

as if i don't have enough things to feed already.

dog, cats, kids, husband, fish, plants, me.

add to the list my sourdough starter. i try to 

make something at least once a week from it. this

means it has to be 'fed'.  feeding it requires

discarding a cup each time so you don't get 

overrun with a fridge bulging with starter.

i have trouble throwing the discard away so i've been

finding recipes that call for the discard. 

today was pretzels.

they were mostly eaten with really spicy mustard,

but i'm thinking a warm bowl of queso alongside 

would have been perfection.

around the corner..

i do this every year.  you would think that all of the reminders

to 'be here, be now' i would do a better job of it.  but, no.

i'm itching for summer again. looking out the upstairs windows down onto the garden.  making dirt wrapped plans. leafy dreams.

texas is such a tease.  she slips us peeks of leggy temps

beneath winter dresses.  i'm just about ready for her

to strip it all off, full monty in all of her sunny glory.

indian blessing birthday...

two beautiful things collided last week:

roxie's birthday and three straight days of spring-

like weather.

spending that time indoors would have been

criminal so we loaded up the camper (the nights

were cold and we were thankful to have heat) and

went to mother neff, texas' very first state park.

maybe you know this already, but if you visit a sacred

place on your actual birthday there is a very good

chance you will leave with a blessing.

this cave still has blackened ceilings from  

tonkawa fires hundreds and hundreds of years ago. 

the morning of roxie's birthday we packed a lunch and 

hiked to the cave. she found a necklace made

from seeds and leather in a small woven basket.

the birthday blessing legend is clearly real(wink).

a chilly first night called for supper in the camper. 

 

sweet joe, taking in the sun and quiet.