a simple yarn

‘Well,’ said I, to no one in particular, ‘its not going to get done just by sitting.’
‘And it’s not,’ I heard myself agree, ‘going to get any cooler, by wishin’ it so.’

Convinced this was no worse than going to the gym…oh wait, I hate going to the gym…I hauled myself outside into the relentless sunshine and its constant companion, the oppressively high humidity.

Impersonating a weaver on the odd occasion, I can forgive you for thinking this is an elaborate, oversized warp. But no, with the advent of home ownership comes the opportunity for creating a veg patch. Yes, container gardening was an option during those house-rental years, but I’m rubbish at it. Pots need watering. I forget to water pots. It’s a sad case of neglect for houseplants too. Good thing the kids keep the dog watered or the SPCA’d be knocking at my door. And we don’t want that, do we?

Since our ‘house-move-and-ensuing-chaos’ occurred during the vital ‘get-stuff-into-the-ground’ phase, we have to wait until next year for the actual ‘veg’ part of the veg patch. But this year it’s all about getting the soil ready. Long ago, a previous owner had a lovely vegetable garden—but time and neglect have taken over, so it’s back to the beginning…killing the grass.

Now, what was I thinking?
Is this me tapping into my Inner-Ma-Ingalls?
Is this me being green?
Is this crazy?
What possessed me to do this without any power equipment?
Ack!
Thankfully recent rains softened the soil.
‘How wise to wait!’ you might say.
‘Dumb luck,’ I reply.

After using the hand-edger to cut the templates, it’s a simple rock-weighted-rubbish-bag method of killing off the grass. Might as well use the Virginia heat and sunshine to my advantage, eh? Sure, there are easier ways. Of course there are quicker ways. But I’m feelin’ pretty good about the synergy of getting an all-body workout and doing this without chemicals or petrol powered machinery.

So, two more squares to cut and cover, then it’s the waiting game for me.
Autumn will bring the next backbreaker synergistic opportunity…hand tilling.

Trifecta—‘Noun: a run of three wins or grand events, Origin:1970s from tri+perfecta’ —Oxford American Dictionary

Grand Event No. 1

Where there is life, there is hope.
It would appear that I haven’t assassinated the grape vine.
Might call for a bit of the bubbly…from the shop, not homemade…yet.
Need to begin fumigation with fungicide to prevent the little black rot bugger from returning.

Grand Event No. 2

Here is our work-in-progress.
The cottage, circa 1945.
Much still to be done to spruce it up but, as I remind myself, we’ve been here for approximately one month.
For friends across the sea, that flowering tree on the left is a crape myrtle.
Think I’d have bought the house for that alone.
Okay, not really, but it presents a very cheery face to passersby.

Grand Event No. 3

Today is Tuesday.
Today is my first visit to the local Farmer’s Market.
Gonna clear out the car boot with great expectations for good finds…

Think I’m beginning to relate to medieval hysteria accompanying a plague.

After our first glimpse of the cottage, it only took a few weeks to wrap things up in Dublin. And such was the sight which greeted us upon our return to America.

Appropriately named ‘black rot,’ its appearance has caused me to take a crash course in learning grape maintenance. Ruthless as a contagious fungus—I, too, have to be ruthless in eradicating it, feeling a little like the village executioner destroying the good along with the bad after an epidemic.

What once looked like this—

Now, looks like this—

So, if I haven’t killed the vine with my zealous pruning and if I can keep on top of any new fungus, we just might have some grapes next year.

…rhymes with Kung Fu.

I’ve had a garden for about two weeks now.
Dashed into the local DIY shop for supplies, including bamboo poles.
Can’t have too many for supporting plants or making tripod trellises.

Doing a major tidy round the place.
And what do I see behind the outbuilding?

Bamboo. Lots of it.
Never considered northern Virginia to be a bamboo growing area, but there ya go, a thriving crop.
Would come in mighty handy if we had a pet panda.

Now I’m the proud owner of a renewable source of free, albeit not too pretty, bamboo poles.
Potential for yarn, to be sure, if only I could spin it straight from the stalk.

… now what do I do with it?

Here it is.

Reminiscent of Cookie Monster or some other such Muppet, I’ve woven this sample with leftover placemat warp.
Not sure what to do with it.
Not really sure what it is.
Or even what it could be.

You see, during the Avoca-Yarn-Acquisition-Fever, I had occasion to wander into the weaving mill. Quite mesmerizing to watch. Equally fascinated by a machine cutting off selvedges from the woven fabric on the automatic loom.

Ah surely something could be done with ‘em, right?
Seems a shame to waste ‘em, eh?
Certainly a creative type could make use of ‘em, huh?
Wonder if they’d let me take ‘em, so?

At that moment, Yarn-Acquisition-Fever turned into Selvedge-Recycling-Frenzy and I was after the shop manageress to see if I could do them a good turn and take that waste off their hands. Very accommodating was she and my boot was tightly packed with industrial sized bags of the stuff. And feeling quite earth-friendly, I took them home…

…where they now sit awaiting their creatively recycled fate.

Hmm, with an interesting warp, these could be transformed into very-cool-scarf-wear.
Or maybe knit on super-jumbo needles.
Don’t want to revisit the fun-fur phase, though.

Any ideas?

Who doesn’t like soap…apart from pre-teen boys, that is?

Preface
Once upon a time, I finally got over the innate fear of handling a compound that could burn away multiple layers of skin, to find that I love the magic…okay, the proper term is saponification…that comes from blending two opposite components to form a wonderfully mild end result…soap. Then, taking the basic soap recipe, adding a bit of essential oil here, a fragrant spice there, creating a sensuous bar of pure bliss, which simply and effectively takes away dirt.

This quest I find myself on to reduce our carbon footprint while pursuing a sustainable lifestyle and saving the planet, inevitably brings me once again to handmade soap. Sure, I’ve been lulled into thinking that lots and lots of suds from synthetic products means better cleaning. But through the millennia, pure soap does the job.

So, here I am faced with the prospect of making soap again, but hmmm….the family doesn’t really like the ‘bar’ form, preferring liquid soap. Okay, liquid soap it is. Even if someone doesn’t make their own soap, pure soap flakes are found at the supermarket. Shouldn’t be hard, eh? Soap shavings and water, right?

Experiment No. 1
Consulting various recipes, all seem to have varying ratios of more or less the same ingredients—soap flakes, boiling water, glycerin, honey, and scent. No glycerin to be found here—chemists haven’t had it in months, so will have to do without.

Shave old rejected bars of handmade soap, add boiling water. Add some honey…not sure why but sounds wholesome. Include some olive oil for soft skin and lemongrass essential oil for a clean scent. Let it cool. Result?

Bleck, this one is too gloopy.

Found out this unfortunate fact after pouring warm soap into pretty bottle, finding it impossible to remove. Had to resort to not-so-pretty-plastic-ketchup-bottle instead. Realise that perhaps not everyone has soap to match wall colours…find it fascinating and rather unintentional.

Experiment No. 2
Realise some recipes call for additional water after it has cooled. Add more water.

Uh oh, this one is too runny.

Experiment No. 3
Maybe it’s my homemade soap, so try it once again with store bought soap flakes. Add boiling water and remaining ingredients. Let it cool. Ick. The mass has separated into whipped sludge on the top with a layer of milky water underneath. Not to be deterred, add a little more water and continue whipping with stick blender. Ah, looks better. Bottle it. Confident enough to give some to Isobel to try.

Next morning, I find that oh no, this one is too phlegmy. Difficult to shower with gelatinous gack and some things just ought not to be photographed.

Experiment No. 4
After three failures, the key seems to be the addition of room temperature water after the initial gloop has cooled. So, going back to Experiment No. 1, take the gloop and carefully add small measures of water.

Ah, this one is just right….a fairly satisfying and passable imitation of liquid soap.

Or in this case, the ‘eternal hope of spring’…

It certainly won’t surprise you to hear me say that I truly love living in Ireland.

Yes, it is very green most of the year.
Yes, it is a mystically ancient land.
Yes, it is seaside and mountain and valley and wood.

It perhaps might surprise you to hear me say that there are drawbacks to living in Ireland.

Yes, it is perpetually damp, driving the chill to the deepest marrow of the bone.
Yes, it is dark in the winter for more hours than I care to count.
Yes, it is windy with a substantial portion of drizzle thrown in for good measure.

But, it all balances out when in mid-January this sight meets my winter-worn eyes…

If the ‘sweet smell of Christmas’ is cinnamon, then the sweet smell of spring must be hyacinths.

Christmas gift from Lucy-Of-The-Lodge sitting in my kitchen window. What a lovely contrast to the dull, drab exterior view. Wishin’ I could invent ‘blog-o-smell’ to share the heady scent!

‘I do like a road, because you can be always wondering what is at the end of it. The Story Girl said that once upon a time.’ —The Story Girl, LM Montgomery

Our ‘road’ has a bit of a bend in it, an unexpected turn, and I’m wondering what’s at the end of it.

At summer’s end, we will take ourselves, our children, all our worldly goods and head to the Dublin Mountains, to begin what I consider to be an intriguing life experiment. After all my blathering about eco-friendliness and dabbling with organic veg and wanting to reduce the negative-impact-that-we-have-on-this-earth-otherwise-known-as-our-carbon-footprint, we have now had the opportunity handed to us on a silver platter…or perhaps I should say ‘a metal spade.’ And so, the rubber (or insert other recyclable product here) will definitely meet the road!

And I’ve gotta admit that mingled with the excitement is a healthy measure of uncertainty. Not about going there, but more about being able to work out in reality what is currently just a thought…a desire…a vision. While my hands itch to get into the dirt, my joints aches at the thought of it!

And so justification and rationalisation being what they are, I’ve concluded that I need to beef up the self-sufficiency part of our library with the ordering of-

And maybe my research should include a re-read of-

Ahem, excuse me, but will everyone who is related to me either by blood or by marriage, please close your eyes for the next 2 paragraphs? Thank you.

Okay, I’m in a bit of a pickle. I’d love to show you the current projects I’m working on, but, well…… they’re intended to be ‘parcels-posted-for-the-festive-mid-winter-celebratory-experience-involving-holly-and-ivy-and-plum-puddings-with-brandy-sauce.’ (For you who are not relatives, that’s British Isles code talk to throw off the family who are hopefully not peeking at this point!)

So, you can see my dilemma…the challenge to post pictures of works in progress without tipping off the fam about their Christmas pressies. Got to work hard at either a) creatively giving surreptitious clues while keeping relatives in the dark, b) coming up with other non-festive-project-related blog content, c) hiring techno-hit-men to block internet access for family for next 3 months or so, d) tap into my Scrooge-side and upload cool pics anyway. Sigh. A blogging conundrum.

Right, so for today it’s options a) and b).

Stylised pictoral clue of current work in progressNow for option b)….non-festive topic…kiddies.

And like almost every other parent in the world at large, I make the following statement to no one’s surprise…I am ready for my kids to go back to school. It’s been a nice summer, to be sure, but the frequency of hearing ‘I’m bored and have nothing to do,’ is on the rise, accompanied by perpetually hanging 2 inches from my left elbow, necks craned to see what I’m busy doing. Well, that’s gotta stop. If you are a fortunate parent who has already bid your children good-bye as they trot off to teachers, packed lunches and recess, I envy you. My day is coming on Friday. Yippee! Although……Kiddie-Daughter and Kiddie-Son will be returning at noon that day.

In the eternal wisdom that is the education system in Dublin, my children will go to school for a total of three hours on Friday, their first day of school, and then promptly return home for the weekend. Hmmm…..and that’s counted as a school day.

Ah well, even so, I am busily preparing them for the blessed event. And this year, we’re doing it eco-style! In addition to purchasing recycled pencils and rulers made from re-processed styro cups, I have found book covering ‘plastic’ that is not plastic. It’s made of 100% corn. And no, it does not melt in the rain. Nope…it looks like plastic, acts like plastic, but is 100% sustainable.

Natural book cover & the Irish language
So hopefully the Kiddies will not only learn about the three Rs…reading, ‘riting and ‘rithmetic, but also reduce, reuse, and recycle!

Note:  As the next few days are busier than normal, I’m combining a few food related bits and pieces into one post and we’ll see you in a few days.

Pesto Postscript
Do you recall a ‘Seinfeld’ episode where George’s rant of the day went something like this…’What is it about pesto? Everybody likes pesto. I try to like pesto. I just don’t like pesto.’

Frankly, I don’t know if everybody likes pesto. I’ve never really had too much experience with it, but when you a) get a handful of fresh basil from the organic delivery service (which calls it a vegetable, by the way, oh right, I already said that once…) and b) get a sheet of paper giving you a pesto recipe and c) have made a commitment to expand the family’s dinner palette….you make pesto.

Food stylin’ photo, especially for Holly
Result…a very fresh and tasty twist to the regular-weekday-easy-to-make-spaghetti-night. Was a hit with Daughter but Son is a pasta purist, no sauce, nothin’. Anyway, why not share the recipe, just in case you have some fresh basil delivered to your door?!40 grams (1-1/2 oz) pine nuts
1-2 garlic cloves, crushed
40 grams (1-1/2 oz) Parmesan cheese, freshly grated
50 grams (2 oz) basil leaves (although I only had 1 oz it was ok)
150 ml (1/4 pint) light extra virgin olive oil
salt and pepper

Put pine nuts and garlic into food processor and give it a brief burst of processing. It shouldn’t be totally smooth, but have a slight texture. Add the Parmesan and basil. Mix. Add oil. Check the seasoning adding salt and pepper as needed. Serve as needed or store in refrigerator in airtight container, covered with a little oil to retain colour. Will keep for 1 month. Once container is opened, it should be used in 2-3 days. (I’m not too fussy and don’t have a food processor so I just chopped everything up, threw together in a bowl and stirred.)

Right, so we boiled up some fusilli, mixed in the pesto and topped with a simple tomato sauce cooked with freshly chopped tomatoes (also in the veg delivery) and pessata (crushed tomato sauce). Didn’t need a really seasoned sauce as the pesto was seasoning enough!

And presto….pesto.

And With That Pesto Goes….

Baguettes. The latest victim in my ‘can-I-make-this-instead-of-buying-it’ outlook. The Kiddies voted it a success, but now I’m thinking I’ll need to add another 4 or 5 hours to each day for the all baking I should be doing!

Mystery Veg

Right, so the organic fruit and veg delivery came this week. And yes, I had to ring ‘em to ask what a certain that curly mass was, sitting in front of me. Had a guess, but wasn’t sure. Hard to cook something up when you haven’t yet identified it! So, yes, they confirmed it as curly kale. Hmmm…..don’t really have any recipes to hand for that one. Drat.

Also, you may notice only four vegetables here, rather than the five I order. They forgot the cucumber for the week. Drat again.

As an added stumper, they also forgot to leave a nice little recipe leaflet. But, thanks to modern technology, an emailed copy comes to the rescue. So, in the spirit of experimentation, we are now adding Kale and Leek Pie to this evening’s barbeque. And that, like Irish-weather-for-outdoor-events, may have a very unpredictable result.

‘All life is an experiment.’             -Ralph Waldo Emerson

And so I take to heart Emerson’s commentary and try a few life experiments. We begin with the idea of growing vegetables…

Observation No. 1
We will not be able to have a sufficient vegetable garden out our back door in the city.

Reason 1:  Rabbit named Fern.

Reason 2:  Am guessing landlord will probably frown on digging up turf behind house.

Reason 3:  Even if landlord allowed it, space would not be sufficient and kids would play constant dodge ‘em with the veg.

Observation No. 2
We will not be able to get a garden allotment any time soon.

Reason 1:  Dublin City does not have any.

Reason 2:  Next nearest locale has two areas for allotments. I am No. 155 and No. 97 on the two waiting lists.

Reason 3:  During the next growing season, we will be spending July and August in the US. Hard to grow veg long distance.

Conclusion
Will try Absolutely Organic, home delivery service of organic fruit and veg.

Reason 1:  It’s all organic. Don’t have to hunt for markets or search for few-and-far-between organic produce.

Reason 2:  No charge for delivery, save on petrol.

Reason 3:  Well, I don’t have a third reason, which really bugs me because in my ultra-symmetrical-outlook-on-things, not having a third reason is a bit unsettling! Wait! It’s fairly reasonably priced, as far as organic veg goes….whew! Symmetry…..aaaahhhh…..

Okay, all ‘listing’ aside, the only down-side to the boxed scheme of having organic produce delivered to my door is that someone else is picking the fruit and veg for me. And actually, that would be fine, but I also don’t really have any control over which produce I’m getting….meaning, I’m signing up for a certain weight of 5 veg (not including potatoes) and 4 fruit each week.

Of the fruit, I know it will be a certain weight of apples, bananas, oranges, and the one other type of fruit. I can live with that. The veg….well, it’s a gamble. I mean, swedes and parsnips are not a regular part of our family’s diet. Can’t say I’m a regular cabbage eater either. Will it be something outlandish? I have no idea. But, you know, that’s part of the experiment, and it’s the thrill of the unknown that has lead to great scientific discovery!

Results
Hurray! Today’s the first delivery of the organic produce…

Now for some analysis…..

Right, kiwi were the ‘other’ fruit included this week. I think it’s about 2.3kg of fruit for €9. BUT, as I purchased it as a combo with veg, it actually was 6.50euro. Not bad. Gotta remember key word, organic. If I were to go to the supermarket, I would probably purchase more quantity, feeding a family of 4. But then again, there is usually some left-behind-yes-we’re-growing-penicillin at the bottom of the basket. So, this might turn out to be the proper amount….

Thankfully, no mystery veg. A lovely colourful array of carrots, onions, broccoli, tomatoes and basil. Hmmmm, when is basil considered a vegetable? Not sure about that classification. But, as compensation, they included an information sheet with a couple of recipes. This week—pesto. I’ll be using the wonderfully scented basil in that! The cost for this amount (sans potatoes), €15. Potatoes don’t come in the box I order. I couldn’t keep up with having that many potatoes every week, so I ordered them a la carte for 4.30euro.

The quality of the produce was gorgeous. It was nicely chilled when it came to my door. The delivery man was nice and friendly. So my total purchase this week 25.80 (because of the potatoes) but next week it’ll be 21.50. If the quality is like this each time, and considering I’m not growing my own, I’d say the extra-cost-cuz-it’s-pesticide-free is worth it!