This Lid


Battered enamel, a little rust, but a lot of life left.

DH’s grandma is selling her house, and letting go of things she has had for years. I am amazed by how graceful she is at this- in the past few years,  she has given up living on her own, so she selected things to take with her to her daughter’s (my wonderful MIL’s) house. She has let go of her car, and has now made the decision to sell her house. I think we were all surprised at how fast it sold- 24 hours after it went on the market, they had an offer, and they will close in the middle of September. We went over  last week to help clean and box things, and hear stories. In the grand scheme, there isn’t that much stuff.

“Clean Sweep” is  a guilty pleasure TV show- I watch it, and think, “Well, I’m not as bad as those people!” One of my favorite people on it is Peter, the Australian guy. People on the show will be reluctant to get rid of something and they’ll say, my mother gave me that, and he’ll say, “this is not your mutha” in his Australian accent. He’s adorable.

At GGM’s house, I was talking about my guilty pleasure, and  I  picked up an enameled metal lid and said, “This is not your mutha” hoping to make people laugh, and GGM took it from me. She  said,  “One time I was cooking dinner, and my mother was there, and I had just put a pie pan on top of the pan, to cover it, and she said, “don’t you have a lid?” and I said no, and the next time she came to visit, she brought this one.”

I thought it was a cute story, and figured it was when she was first married, and just getting her house set up.

Um, no.

Great-Grandma had been in her 70’s, which meant that Great-Great- Grandma had been in her 90’s.  Moms. We never give up.

Of course, I asked if I could have the lid- it is now  on the cast iron skillet that lives on my stove top. I will use it every day, and tell the story to whomever will listen. There is a lot of stuff in my house that is clutter, but this lid is meaningful, and deserves to have a place of honor on the stove.

More babies!!! More quilts!!!


Laying out the petals was the hardest part.

A few months ago, I expressed the wish that people would have more babies, just so I could make more quilts. Well, I don’t know if that is the whole reason, but some people have obliged me. My awe-inspiring SIL and her husband are expecting in October, and I have been spending some afternoons in the basement sewing up an appliqued top. It’s better in the basement, since we don’t have air conditioning- I’ll sew, and the kids play with legos, and I’ll come up periodically to refill my iced tea and just be blasted by the heat.

I couldn’t find any patterns I liked, so I just imagined this one. I love the high contrast of the purple and red over the cream.  I also love that the cream has a very subtle pattern on it. Is it a flower exploding? Fireworks? The Girl thought the explosion should be centered, but I like the asymmetricality of it and the way the quilting lines flow off the petals. I mean sparks.

I just finished the binding this afternoon, and love how the red finishes up and ties it all together.

My math and my memory were way off when I bought the fabric for the back-I only got a yard of the dark blue with sparkly stars print. My solution was to add a panel of pieces from the front, an idea I got from a library book called “Quilts, Baby!” by Linda Kopp.

My backing fabric wound up 6 inches too short, so I added a panel of patchwork.

I probably wouldn’t have thought of it if I hadn’t seen it in the book, but when I first saw it while reading, I wondered why anyone would cut up perfectly good fabric on purpose, just to sew it back together. It is a question I ask myself regularly about quilting, actually. And yet here I am quilting…

I can haz bed for kitteh?

On a related note, there were so many scraps of purples and reds that I made the Hellcat a bed. It hasn’t prevented her from sleeping on the guest bed pillow, though. Sorry, Mom. I’ll change the pillowcase before you come.

Yes, I’ve gotten rid of Carl


Goodbye, annoying baseball bear, goodbye, ghost that used to say Boo! goodbye angel bear...

 

Out of the blue, the Boy started sleeping with his head at the foot of his bed. He liked looking out the window, he said. It really bugged me.

So, I asked if he would like to re-arrange his room so he could sleep with his head at the foot of his bed and still see out the window?  Then the plan snowballed, into choosing paint colors and a new rug, and getting rid of baby toys.

Yesterday, stage one of the plan commenced: sorting out the baby toys.  We had to clear off the desk in order to move it to the opposite side of the room. The pile of was equal parts Legos and mini animal figures, and rather than just sweeping the whole pile into a tub, we took the time to sort them into two tubs. These are the toys he plays with the most- on his desk, he builds very elaborate lego contraptions and creates animal scenes, which he narrates, documentary style.

We got the desk in place, scooted the bed and cleaned up behind it. Umm, yuck, is all I’ll say.

The Boy’s attention span for clean-up was finished. Honestly, my attention was pretty shot, too, but I couldn’t face putting him to bed in a room that was all taken apart.

The last thing I made him sort through was the stuffed animals. 

Maybe 5 years ago, I was taking some toys to Goodwill, not anyone’s favorite toys, no toy with a name- I’ve seen “Toy Story”, I’ve read the “Velveteen Rabbit,” I’m not a monster! Anyway, the Girl saw a rainbow bear in the bag- she threw a fit, “no, not the rainbow bear!!!!”

I replied, “oh really? what’s his name?” I challenged. 

She only paused an instant, and said, “Carl!”  Carl was a colleague of DH, who was always super nice to Kate, a real sweetheart. I relented. Rainbow Bear Carl now had a name…he came out of the Goodwill box. But he still never got played with very much.

Five years on, I’ve gotten wilier. Rather than gathering a box of toys on my own, I had the Boy choose.  “Go through your stuffed animals, and pick 10 that you like best.” The Boy knows me, and negotiated to 12.  When he sorted, I saw him hesitating over a really cool jellyfish, so I threw that in as a bonus, because I like it. Carl didn’t make the cut. Goodbye, Carl.

Ode on the Potting Bench


Several years ago, when DH bought me my chop saw (best Christmas ever!) I built a workbench/potting bench for the back porch. I always see potting benches in magazines or stores that look like real furniture, and I wonder why- I would feel so hesitant using one of those. I would worry I was going to mess it up, damage the top, get it dirty… mine is perfectly ready to trash.

I built it out of 4x4s for the legs, with braces, so it doesn’t wobble. And I used planks for the top, with a bit of space between each one, so potting soil and sawdust just fall through. When I built the trellis for my vanilla plant, I just stapled the mesh to it so it would stay flat. When we have parties, I put a tablecloth on it, and make it into a drink station, but the rest of the year it lives to work.

Rhapsody in Terra Cotta


I love the way clay pots age- I have had this terra cotta pot for maybe 10 years- I remember being a little appalled at how much it cost- we were broke back then, and it felt like $20 was just so much money for a flower pot. But as the years have gone by, it has acquired such a nice patina, so earthy.

I have since budgeted more money for containers, and buy fancy ceramic pots with blue glaze, but I still really like these beat up old terra cotta pots.

Teepee


We've added prunings from the apple tree to the original poles- the more poles in the frame, the better.

Last summer, the Girl got very stingy with the playhouse, wouldn’t let the Boy play in it, etc. He came to me and asked if we would build him his own playhouse, and I suggested a teepee, instead. He was satisfied with the idea, and made plans to camp out in it with his cousins and everything.

Then I started researching the construction of teepees. There are a lot of places online offering to sell teepees, but not very many with instructions for building. The most helpful was here : http://www.shelterpub.com/_shelter/www_teepee.html  and it appears to be a scan of an old book.

I figured out that the fabric covering is basically a half circle, with the round end on the ground, and the center of the straight side goes at the top of the cone.  The support for the cone is at least three, but preferably more, poles. The height of the cone is the radius of the half circle of fabric, and that is also roughly the diameter of the footprint of the teepee. I’ve blamed teachers before for my lack of understanding of stuff like this, but in this case, it is totally my fault for not paying attention- this all would have been easier to figure out if I’d paid attention in 9th grade math.

So, I did a lot of drawings, and estimates, and decided I would make my tripod out of 8′ long 2×2 dimensional lumber. I decided they would cross at the 6′ mark. That meant I needed to make a half circle with a 12 foot diameter.  At this point I went shopping for canvas. Ouch. If I were going to do this again, and I might someday, I would have gotten a canvas tarp, cut the corners and hemmed the cut edges. Or, contacted a friend in the awning business.

Instead, I got 7 yards of  white cotton muslin, cut it into a 4 yard section and a 3 yard section. (it suddenly strikes me that the internet is international, and if  ever get any readers who think in metric this will be the worst possible form of blog post, filled with 2×2’s, 3 yards, 4 yards, 6 feet. On the other hand, it feels awkward to put metric translations on each number…I guess if you live in Germany and want to make a teepee, build it to fit yourself, and pay attention to the ratios)

I sewed the two panels together, then laid it out on the lawn. I hammered a piece of bamboo into the ground and looped a 6 foot piece of twine on it with a marker tied to it, and drew a half circle. I cut and stitched along this line- doing a zigzag stitch along the edge to reinforce it. Then I learned how to use the buttonholer function on my sewing machine, and made a double row of holes along the diameter, about 4 feet up from the bottom. These holes overlap each other when you wrap it around the poles, and small sticks thread through the holes to hold the cover on the frame.

Anyway- love the teepee. Very sculptural. My friend in the awning business (yes, I really have one!) has suggested I let the kids paint designs on it, but honestly, I am way too much of a control freak for that- What if the designs came out horrible, then we’d have this ugly teepee in the backyard. As a white cone, it glows in the sun, and makes a cozy hangout for either kid. Actually, when the Girl saw how cool it was last summer, she insisted on playing in it as well. There hasn’t yet been a sleepover in it yet, but we’re hoping when the weather gets warm, they’ll roll out the sleeping bags.

On a lawn care note- I thought we would have to move it regularly in order to prevent the grass from going yellow, but the muslin is thin enough that it hasn’t been a problem.With heavier canvas, it might be an issue. When the kid from up the street mows, we collapse it like an umbrella and move it under the ash tree, then move it back on the grass when he’s finished.

Cold-Brewed Coffee- oh my gosh!


I’ve written before about deciding to spend less money on trips out for coffee, and I mostly have. The hot brewed coffee using the little Melitta filter funnel has been great. The magic moment, though, was when I learned about brewing coffee at room temperature to use as iced coffee.

 Holy cow- there are apparently devices that you can get to make it for you, but honestly, if you have a jar and a strainer…
Here’s what you do- put about a cup of coarsely ground coffee into a jar, then add a quart of room temperature water. I’ve tried it with filtered water and straight out of the tap, and I don’t think there’s much of a difference. We have good tap water here- if it’s good enough to drink, it’s probably good enough to brew cold.
So, where were we? Oh yeah, coffee in jar, water in jar, let it sit…I go about 12 hours, or as long as I can remember. A woman at City News, a non-Starbucks coffee institution, told me they brew it for 24 hours. I think the longest I’ve gone was about 16 hours. Then strain- I strain it through a mesh strainer, then use a coffee filter as well.It gets muddy if you skip the second straining.

No photos…jars with coffee… a more talented photographer maybe could make that work.

 I keep a jar in the fridge, and pour it over ice, with a bit of milk and a little raw sugar. I drink it through a straw, so I get little chunks of undissolved sugar on my tongue…bliss. Caffeinated bliss.

Artichokes, an excuse to eat melted butter


Bubble, bubble...

When I was a kid and my mom would go out of town, my dad would make special dinners- the kind of thing that either she didn’t like, or that she considered too messy. Artichokes were sometimes on the menu for these meals. And, funnily, I don’t remember anything else on the menu those nights, that was the whole meal- just artichokes, dipped in melted butter.
Daddy would cook them in the pressure cooker, spread out newspapers on the top of the portable dishwasher in the middle of the kitchen, melt butter in a tiny pan on the stove top (it wasn’t before microwaves were invented, but it was before we had one) and we’d all stand around, ripping leaves off, dunking them in butter and scraping the flesh off with our teeth.
Once we got down to the chokes, the feathery tiny leaves that stick in your throat, my dad would trim them with a paring knife and distribute the pieces of heart fairly. Fairness in heart distribution was a big issue.
It’s the kind of thing that if you don’t have a childhood memory of it, you probably don’t eat. They are a bit of a pain to make, and eat, and dispose of, as well as looking intimidating in the produce section.  However, they are so good- rich in their own right plus extra good with the butter….  Can I suggest that you create a good memory of it? right now?
To cook- trim off the bottom stem, and the bottom row of leaves- these are tough anyway, and take forever to cook.

At our house, 3 of us like artichokes, and cooking 2 is enough.

Place in boiling water. I sometimes throw in a garlic clove, but not always. Boil until a knife goes into the stem end easily, about 20 minutes. Meanwhile, melt some butter (aren’t those some of the most beautiful words in the English language? right up there with “you look so much prettier without make-up” and “I’ve folded all the laundry”)
To eat, you pluck off the leaves, dunk in butter, then scrape off the soft stuff from the insides of the leaves with your teeth.

Turn the leaves upside down and scrape with your bottom teeth.

 The closer you get to the center, the more “soft stuff”  there is- once the tops of the leaves turn purplish, you can bite off the bottom 1/3rd of the leaf. 

Once you get to the stuff that looks like chick feathers, trim that off, and you have the heart- distribute it fairly. Sop it in the rest of the butter and enjoy.

I have tried to grow artichokes here in zone 5, and it is possible, although they don’t overwinter here. In warmer places, they are perennial, and produce more buds every year. I have read directions on the interwebs about pulling the roots at the end of the season, and storing them in the basement, the way people do with dahlias. I’ll try that this fall with the plant I have growing in the basement under lights.

Trying to shake the million dollar coffee habit


Melitta Number 2.

John Prine has a song about a Vietnam-war-vet-heroin addict with a line that goes: “There’s a hole in Daddy’s arm, where all the money goes.” I’ve got a hole like that, but it’s for coffee. Starbucks coffee, usually.

The big reason I go to Starbucks is they haveperfected the art of the “third place” a place that isn’t work or home, but seperate. I can do work there, but don’t have to. There are no projects piling up, the dishes in the sink are washed immediately, the bathrooms are sparkly clean, it is a home that is much cleaner than home.

I spend a fortune there.

With Spring on it’s way (I’m on Spring Break now, and we’ve had so little snow all winter that I’m just going to count it as sprung already) I have decided that I will find someplace cheaper for my “third place.” We have a great sculpture park nearby, the library is close and free, and there’s always our own back patio. Free wifi…well, not free, since I do pay for that, but, you know.

Trash is another problem with buying coffee “out.” I occasionally bring my own cup, but usually forget, so there’s a cup, with a cardboard holder, and a plastic lid, and a bag for the lemon cake. I can be greener at home, I think.

The problem was coffee. I have a couple of French presses, but they are kind of a pain to clean. I have a big drip machine that I use for parties, but it takes up a lot of kitchen real estate. It lives in the basement most of the year.

I used to have a cone drip thingy, which makes really good, really fast coffee, but it didn’t survive a purge- maybe the last time we moved?

So, I went to the LKGE (local kitchen gadget emporium- it’s my own acronym) and found this adorable little one- person cone. $3.50. I’ll wait while you do the math. Yes, for the price of 2 regular drip coffees, I can make my own at home. I’ll have to buy coffee and cream of course, but I will still save money, and trips out to Starbucks can be reserved for special treats, rather than everyday guilt fests.

Book Review- Ratio


My only objection to the book is that the cover is yellow, but the spine is pink, so it is hard to find on the shelf. A small quibble.

I’ve mentioned this book before, and as I break it out to use to make cream puffs for my friend’s Oscar party on Sunday, I figured I’d write a full-blown review.
This isn’t like other cookbooks: it explains the why of cooking as much as the how. It does have recipes in it, but they are very simple ones, almost foundation recipes, and then you can vary them from there.

The chapter on roux has transformed (transformed, I say!) my relationship to gravy. And soup. The chapter on cakes has finally taught me the difference between sponge cake and pound cake, and the girl and I are now able to whip together a perfect little 2-layer-easy-bake-oven cake. It still takes forever to bake, because of the whole “cooking with a lightbulb” thing, but we can whip it up pretty fast.
There is a whole chapter on sausage making, which I can’t see myself ever delving into. Also, it’s fairly Eurocentric- no salsa, no rice, no stir-fries.  On the other hand, the 5 pages on making mayonaise is one of the reasons I asked for a stick blender for Christmas.

Michael Ruhlman is the author, I haven’t read his previous books, but this one is readable- he is a journalist who wanted to learn how to cook, rather than a chef who was hired to write a cookbook. One kooky detail is the blurb on the back,  by Alton Brown. It identifies him as author of “I’m Just Here for the Food.”  I didn’t realize he was an author, I thought he was a TV personality.

So, the recipes I’ll be using for Sunday are the pate a choux, which is a cream puff dough, and creme patisserie, from the chapter entitled “The Custard Continuum.” I love this book.http://www.amazon.com/Ratio-Simple-Behind-Everyday-Cooking/dp/1416571728/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1298677515&sr=1-1

edited to add: the cream puffs were amazing- we brought about 30 to the Oscar party, and they disappeared instantly.

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