Category: another day in the life

Scenes from a weekend.

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Hot air balloons overhead, market, soccer, the Fiber Festival and Sheepdog trials (where I left the camera with Edie, only to find yet more photos of her toes), an unwilling photo subject,  inspiration for new projects,  a fermenting class at the cooking school, visit with grandparents and a grown up field trip on a dreary Monday to one of the nearby wineries.
Not pictured – new orange yarn that’s already being knit up into a yummy scarf, a home run on a homemade pizza crust, a sublime batch of sourdough bread served with the last of the bacon jam & melon jam, and confirmation that the okra pickles need a few more weeks before they are prime for eating.

Random.

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My left hip has been aching all summer.  It gets worse when I don’t work out, don’t wear proper footwear and don’t stretch it, but even doing those things, it’s been aching for months.  I’m starting to think I should have it looked at by a professional.  I’m convinced I have arthritis in it and that this is my long, slow decline into old age and frail health.  The instructor of the pedal & kettle class I take a few times a week keeps talking about this fabulous yoga class that she swears is almost as good as a deep tissue massage.  Pat & Edie do yoga, but I have always dismissed it, because I like cardio and only cardio. But this instructor made a convincing argument, so I thought, why not?  Yesterday, I took my very first yoga class at the gym. She did a good bit of Yin Yoga.  Holy moly did it cure what ailed me.  Hip pain?  Gone.  Tight IT Band?  Loosened.  Sore lower back?  No more.  I’ve become a yoga convert.  I will definitely be doing that more.

I had to buy Edie new soccer cleats last week.  Did you know the cheapest women’s cleats start out $20 more expensive than the most expensive kid’s cleats?  Of course she really liked the $105 ones.  And the $95 ones.  But settled on the $40 ones (as if she had a choice).   And then proceeded to leave them on the front porch in the rain, so even though they’ve been worn for exactly one game, they have that wonderful cat-pee like smell her soccer shoes never fail to develop emanating from them already.

Awesome. 

Her Language Arts teacher asked her if she knew what a Thesaurus was and if she had one at home.  Edie had no clue what the teacher was talking about, but as the teacher started explaining it to her, she volunteered that it sounded an awful lot like the word book her mother had bought and put in her bathroom, for when she ‘needed something to read’.  The teacher then told her it reflected in her vocabulary and to keep on reading it.

That’s my secret for having a smart sounding kid – leave a thesaurus in the bathroom for her to read.

I’m not even going to speculate on what that teacher thinks of our family.  At least I pulled out what Edie considered the owner’s manual to her parents.  That’s how I got the idea for leaving a thesaurus in her bathroom, as she really will read anything we leave lying around and if she’s going to walk around quoting things she read in ‘the office’ then, it had better be good.

Since I did the piece on The Festy working on becoming a zero waste music festival in last week’s Green Homes and Living, I am now on the press list for the event. I’ve gotten several offers to interview bands playing there this weekend.  I’ve decided this means I’m a food, wine, green living AND music writer.

I might be a music writer, but I had to turn down the free passes that I was offered for the festival.  Pat’s working Saturday, I’m working Sunday, his folks are coming, Edie’s soccer game is out in Crozet smack dab in the middle of the day Saturday (ugh, I hate schlepping out there), the Fall Fiber Festival is this weekend and I haven’t the slightest clue how I’m fitting that last one in.  Edie will not hear we might not make it to the sheepdog trials this year, so I suspect it will be another one of those GO Saturdays from start to finish.  Sigh.  I’m already exhausted from the weekend and it’s only Thursday.

We’ve gotten the next swap lined up for Sunday, November 11.  The Charlottesville Cooking School is swapping us to use the space.  I’m also trying out a new website that organizes your event for you.  I think I was able to link it to Cville Swap’s Facebook  page.  Technology can be challenging.

We had company last evening, who requested we watch the debate.  I’m over this election – the rhetoric, the vitriol, the multiple nightly polling questions (they love to call on Tuesdays.  Tuesdays we are guaranteed a minimum of 4 polling calls) thanks to the fact that we live in a ‘swing state’, the canvassers knocking on our door all weekend, all of it.  I’m ready for November 7th already. I successfully avoided both conventions and was hoping to do the same with the debates.  No such luck. Thank goodness for bourbon and knitting to distract me so I didn’t fully have to pay attention.  Even though I’m pretty much over it, I found myself liking the post Patience put up this morning.  Good food for thought.

Seriously Old School.

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Back in the day, Friday nights were Big City nights.  Big City was the underage club downtown that all the cool kids hung out at.  And by cool kids, I mean those of us that didn’t really fit in at our various area high schools.  It was really about the music, which was definitely not anything being played on radio.  The friends I made there had a far longer lasting influence on me than most of the folks I went to high school with – it was a friend I made via Big City that told me I should consider checking out this school in Alabama called Auburn.  And the rest, as they say, is history.
Friday night, in the town I grew up in, was the Big City Reunion.   I realized it was a great excuse to go see some folks I hadn’t seen in forever, mostly my old friend Amy.
I’ve known Amy since third grade.  We have moved in & out of each others lives ever since.  Separately, we are both strong personalities, together?  We are the people your mother warned you about.  Our own mothers warned us about each other.
In grade school we would walk back & forth the mile or so between our houses.  We’d walk to the mall and play Frogger for hours at the arcade.  We’d go to the roller rink and skate Saturday away.  We were Girl Scouts together.  We grew apart for a few years in high school, but by our senior year, we had rediscovered each other and Amy was the friend who introduced me to Big City, so it seemed fitting I go to the reunion with her.
No matter how much time has passed between visits with Amy, we always pick up exactly where we left off.  That much hasn’t changed since third grade.  Actually, there’s a lot that hasn’t changed between us since third grade.  As we were getting ready Friday, she opened up her closet to dress me, neverminding that I had brought an entire suitcase for a one night stay- and despite my initial horror that she owned a Kim Kardashian skirt, despite the fact that I swore up one side and down the other it was trashy as all get out with it’s studs and fake zippers, I tried it on and realized it looked fabulous on me.  All that gym time has definitely paid off.

So of course I proceeded to wear it. 
With the tag still attached of course.
Definitely not the first time I’ve worn something of Amy’s before she had.  Probably not the last.  At least this time she didn’t even bother with “You’re not keeping that” and just skipped ahead to “Go ahead and take it home with you”.  Which I totally did because I need to have something to wear to shows that’s not my standard circa 1992 demin skirt – instead, I’m going to rock my standard 1986 taken from Amy’s closet look. 
Really, the only thing missing from our Friday night ritual was Amy’s mother sprinking holy water on us. 
Amy had a pre-reunion gathering at her house. A.J. showed up and it was great to catch up with him there – A.J. lived across the street from Amy back when we were all in grade school together, and his sister was great pals with my sister from Kindergarten, so he was one of those people I just was used to having around back in the day.  And he’s still one of those people I like having around, who understands I need to carry a spare outfit in his back seat, just in case I change my mind about that skirt.
It was also Bike Week in York.  I knew it was Bike Week, but yet I didn’t really consider what that meant. I drove up the back way, avoiding the DC beltway, which meant coming up through Gettysburg.  The route is generally clear sailing until you get to Gettysburg and then you turn onto Rt. 30, which is the old Lincoln Highway and other than paving that route, I can assure you, the road has not changed since Abraham Lincoln was President.  It has been 2 lanes my entire life and what should be a 20 minute drive always turns into the last hour of hell on a roadtrip.  As I was coming into town past the fairgrounds, it hit me that it was bike week, because there was a line of cycles pulling in, queuing up for their parade in a few hours. 
A few hours later, neither A.J. nor I put it together that Bike Week was BIKE WEEK, so as we decided to ‘cut through’ downtown, we got caught up in the mess that was going on, which meant roads blocked off and bikes everywhere you looked.
 When I called home Friday afternoon after pulling into town, I mentioned to first Pat, then Edie, that it was bike week, and both asked if that meant motorcycles.  I forget how so very different the town I grew up in is from where I live now.  In Charlottesville, Bike Week would probably be a convention of road bicyclists, dressed in spandex, not leather.  York is the Snack Food Capital of the World, while Charlottesville has been named Locavore Capital of the World.  Very different foodie destinations indeed. 

The reunion itself was a grand time.  It was held at a bar, with a dance floor of course.  Five of the old DJ’s took turns spinning records and we danced for hours.  It was great to see familiar faces that I hadn’t seen in forever.  It was like a high school reunion, but with only the people that you really wanted to see and far better music.  The vibe was exactly the same as it had been all those years ago, especially so because you can still smoke in bars in Pennsylvania.
Best of all was spending time with Amy.  A hell of a lot has changed over the last 35 years we’ve known each other, but our friendship hasn’t.  She is truly an original free spirit, my best friend from third grade and one of my most favorite people in the entire universe.  And quite possibly the person your mother warned you about.

Starting with Split Pea Soup.

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Yesterday I posted on Facebook that I was making my first batch of split pea soup for the year.  Split pea soup is Edie’s hands down favorite soup, one she requests frequently and since she’s been under the weather with some sort of bug, she got her request.

I was first introduced to split pea soup by my friend Beppy in college – back in the days when I lived in a party house with two male roommates and I myself did zero cooking and even less cleaning, I remember coming home one afternoon to find Bep elbow deep in a sinkful of dirty dishes, cleaning away, with a pot of split peas simmering on the stovetop.  Since then, I cannot eat them without thinking fondly of her. That kitchen had the best light, even if it was otherwise a crappy kitchen with no counter space and an electric stove that my cat liked to turn on by pressing the power buttons across the top, starting at least one small fire.  Those were the days….

The thread that followed my post was a mass sharing of recipes, not just for split pea soup, but for Chicken Corn Soup and White Bean & Kale soup as well.  It inspired me to put them down all down somewhere together.

First up, what started the whole thing, split pea soup.

Becky’s Split Pea Soup
Take a bag of split peas, rinse and cover with water in a pot. Simmer for about 45 minutes.
Saute sliced onion, celery, carrots, garlic in bacon fat (or butter or oil). Add to the split peas, as well as broth, salt,pepper, thyme and barley. Cook for about another half hour or so.

Ashley suggested simmering it with a ham hock. 
Mary Ann puts sliced potatoes, ham, carrots, onion, coarse ground pepper, garlic, sea salt and celery salt in her version.
Cynthia adds curry powder.
Carla adds smoked turkey legs and a jalapeño pepper in addition to usual onions, celery carrots, garlic, salt and pepper.
Cynthia also adds dill, sour cream or yogurt to make it creamier.                 

Vikki’s White Bean & Kale Soup Stem & chop one bunch of kale; bring a quart of salted water to boil and simmer the kale for 15 minutes or so, til it’s soft. Drain the kale, put it aside, & save the liquid; should be about two cups left. Warm 1/4 cup olive oil in your pot; mince 4-5 cloves of garlic, sauté them in the oil for a minute or two, then add a large pinch of crushed sage and give it a couple stirs. Throw the kale back in, mix it up with the oil & garlic, then add the kale water plus enough extra water to make about 3 cups of liquid, plus two cans of white beans (drained & rinsed). I like to add some chicken bouillon or scrapings from the freezer, but you don’t have to; another good option is a rind of Parmesan. let it all simmer for 5 or 10 minutes, then puree it smooth with an immersion blender, salt as needed, and thin with a little extra water if you wish. sprinkle it with Parmesan before serving. Bread is a must.      

Becky’s note:  I make a similar soup, but I don’t always puree mine.  I add sweet & spicy Italian sausage that I cook in a separate pan until it’s fairly well cooked, slice it and add it after I puree (If I puree).   

Holly’s Chicken Corn Soup
Put 5 boneless chicken breasts, a cup of water, salt and pepper and a chicken bouillion in a crock pot to cook over night.
The next morning, shred the chicken, add it back to the chicken broth and add: large can chicken broth, bag a frozen sweet corn, 2 cans of creamed corn, 4 chopped hard boiled eggs (do NOT use hard boiled eggs already made from the store-I made that ‘stinky’ mistake before), also add: 1 small chopped onion, 5-6 (cubed) white potatoes, finely chopped stalk of celery and a few tablespoons of celery salt, 1/4 cup of sugar, and pepper. I have it all in the crock pot and will cook on low all day. it is really good and simple to make. Serve with bread. Occasionally have added 1/4 cup or so of whole milk if you want it a tad creamier.

Last but not least, is this recipe for split pea soup that Bonnye sent me this morning.

Bonnye’s Split Pea Soup

1lb dried split peas
2 quarts chicken broth, water or mix
1 clove garlic, minced or pressed
1pkg Canadian bacon,diced dash cayenne
1 ½ cups onion,
diced ¼ tsp thyme
dash cayenne
¼ tsp marjoram 1 tsp salt ½ tsp pepper 1 cup celery, diced 1 cup carrots, diced

Place peas, chicken broth, Canadian bacon, onions and all seasonings into a pot. Bring to a boil. Reduce to simmer, cover and cook for 1 ½ to 2 hours. Add celery and carrots. Cook for another hour. Will thicken in storage so add water if you wish when you reheat.

So there you have it, at least 7 different ways of making Split Pea Soup, two ways of making White Bean & Kale Soup and Chicken Corn Soup, a Pennsylvania Dutch classic I grew up eating at the school cafeteria – back when they still cooked school lunches.  All thanks to Facebook.  Happy Soup Season everyone!

It happens.

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I used to hear women say they hadn’t had time for shower that day and I would wonder to myself, how freaking hard is it to take a shower?  Especially when it was women with older kids – you didn’t have to worry about what they were doing while you took a few minutes to lock yourself in the bathroom with hot running water.  And most especially when it was women who didn’t work outside the house.  Really, what were you doing all day that left no time for a shower?

I now find myself among those women and I sincerely apologize to all of you that I had previously mentally judged.

Take yesterday for instance.  I got up, got Edie off to school.  I had made plans to meet Nancy at the gym for a class at lunchtime, so I ran some errands and got dinner started and figured I’d take a shower after my workout.  No need for two showers really. I sat down and put together the schedule for my Girl Scout troop for the year, having had a mom’s gathering the night before to finalize our details, and got it sent out.  I realized I wanted to take Snapfish up on their 99 prints for 99 cents deal that expired yesterday because I haven’t printed out any photos in eons and I really should.  So, I started going through photos and uploading them, finding the process much quicker than I had anticipated.  I took off to go to the gym, dinner halfway done, photos halfway loaded, feeling pretty good about things.

And then, somehow, my day got derailed.  I spent a little more time than I had intended at the gym, when Nancy convinced me to try doing pull-ups with her after our workout and stretch.  She’s in great shape and I have noticed a difference in my clothes since I started working out with her on a regular basis, so if she asks me to try something, I figure why not?  Instead of paying for my own personal trainer, I just work out with her.

So I came home and thought I’d finish uploading photos which shouldn’t take too long, because the first round didn’t take long. First the website showed I’d loaded them, then it didn’t, so I went back through and reloaded, only to discover that the first process had gone through, so then I had to edit and sort through which photos I wanted to print.  We’re talking over 100 photos and next thing I knew, it was almost 3 pm.

It was a night I was doing Dinnaah, my meals to go, and I had quite a few orders, as I was serving a very popular curried sweet potato, spinach and quinoa dish.  I went out to the garden to harvest some of my spinach and somehow managed to clip my finger with my clippers while I was harvesting.  I finally got my main dish going on the stove when Nancy showed up, having just picked up her youngest from after school clubs, wanting to know if I could put some books I’d promised her on her Kindle.  So, dinner’s on the stove, and I’m looking on my hard drive for those books when Edie comes through the door with a friend, looking for a snack.  They have exactly 25 minutes to grab a snack, get their gear and head back up to school for soccer practice, so I hand Edie a loaf of baguette I’d baked the night before, tell her there’s cheese and fruit in the fridge, make a fruit & cheese plate.  Her presentation was flawless and even if she didn’t clean up the cutting board and knife, she did wrap the bread & cheese back up and put them away.   So, the girls are chattering away, nibbling on bread & cheese and fruit when Betty comes in, announcing that when I heard her son Ben yelling the afternoon before, it was because he had broken his arm again, the second time since June.  (Edie & I had heard him yelling for his mom and I had started out to check on him because I could hear in his voice something was wrong, but by the time I got up there, Betty was pulling out in her car and now I know they were headed to the ER).  So, while she’s telling the story of Ben’s latest ER broken arm adventure to Nancy & myself, Edie & Claire & Alayna were chattering away, I’m trying to figure out where that book is on my harddrive and making sure I don’t burn dinner.

Just as quickly as my living room filled up, it emptied out, as everyone had places to be.  I finished dinner, got orders wrapped up and was getting ready to start baking cupcakes for my friend Rebecca’s birthday, as I had invited her & her daughter down for dinner in celebration that night.  The phone rang and it was Rebecca, asking if I was ready for her to drop Charlotte off.  She’d asked if Charlotte could come down and play when they first got home when I had invited her to dinner on Thursday, as they were getting ready to go on a trip and she wanted to get packed.  I had somehow forgotten that Thursday was Thursday, meaning that Edie had an after school club followed by soccer followed by an immediate playdate that I had set up for her with Charlotte, only she wasn’t home yet and she had homework she hadn’t done because she’d had yoga club followed by soccer practice and Thursday is THURSDAY.  So I told Rebecca to go ahead and drop Charlotte off, Edie wasn’t home yet, but Charlotte could help me make Rebecca’s cupcakes.

Meanwhile, people were stopping by to pick up dinner and commenting on the fact that we had an empty keg sitting by the front gate.  (We are cleaning out the basement – Pat had intended to use it in brewing beer at home, but then realized that just wasn’t going to happen, so he posted it on Freecycle and left it out there to get picked up, making the entrance to our house resemble the entrance to all the houses I lived in college. The universe is shaped exactly like the earth, if you go straight along enough you’ll wind up where you were.) Charlotte was helping to man the door, help whip up chocolate truffle filled cupcakes (the recipe is one I’ve posted before from Cook’s Illustrated, it’s damn good and quite easy) and write some last minute photo descriptions as part of wrapping up my big free lance project.  Pat had to attend a public meeting on behalf of work last night, thankfully, this one was in town which meant he was only gone but a few hours, but it still meant he wasn’t home and Edie had a question about her math homework that I was totally unable to answer.  Edie surpassed my math skills at some point in second grade and why not ask Betty’s son Ben, who’s good at math. So we ran down there, saw the new cast and after a few eye rolls, both of them expressing complete disdain for me admitting to my shortcomings and making them actually speak to each other, Ben was able to answer Edie’s question in about oh, 5 seconds.

I’m really pretty sure she gets a good idea of what it would be like to actually have an older brother in her exchanges with Ben. 

By the time the homework was done, frosting made and on the cupcakes (again, with a huge effort on behalf of 9 year old Charlotte, who can whip some egg whites by hand I tell you), and I had finally managed to sit down to breathe with a glass of wine, Rebecca walked through the door and it was time for dinner.  We ate, had dessert, the girls put on a show and suddenly, it was 8 o’clock and I was still in the clothes I had worked out in, unshowered.  Cleaning the kitchen took the very last of the energy I had – I was cold, I was tired and I was sore – not sure if it was from my workout and my  big 5 pull-ups earlier in the day or leftover from an earlier workout in the week that I didn’t stretch enough after – or my marathon day that had gone off rail or if I was just sore from being cold, because I now get stiff and sore from just getting cold.  Awesome.  If this is September and I’m 42, I cannot wait for January when I’m say, 60. 

At any rate, by the time I finished arguing with Edie about bedtime and had delivered Ben some cupcakes, I was too tired to bother with a shower, so I just crawled into my own bed, realizing that when I worked in an office and had a younger child,  I had way more time to take a shower.  I’m not sure how I got to this point in my life, but here I am.  I really didn’t have 5 minutes to take a shower yesterday.

Breathe.

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The last two weeks around here have been busy.  Pat’s been overhauling his boat – which has been much needed but generally put off with all his other duties for some time.  This past weekend’s Clean Water Act’s 40th Anniversary Celebration and Rally in DC with the Waterkeeper Alliance and plenty of his fellow Riverkeepers about gave him the excuse he needed to just buckle down and do it. He had a volunteer help strip it, but he did the final sanding and then priming and painting.  He finished it up about 3:30 Friday afternoon, just as it was time for him to head up to DC.

I meanwhile, was up to my ears in a free lance project that you will hear more about next week, as well as attempting to sort out details for my next pickling class, doing my home cooked meals to go and picking up some catering as well as back waiting shifts for a friend’s restaurant, trying to bump up our cash flow, in addition to my regular wife & mom duties.

I turned in the last piece of my free lance project this morning, having done most of it last week, writing 4 articles in a writing frenzy last Friday.  There is much relief, although I still have things to wrap up, emails to respond to, an inbox to clean up, a hard drive to clean up, a desk top to find under a mass of clutter…and that’s just for that project.  The house isn’t in too bad of shape overall – moments where I need to procrastinate I found myself cleaning. 

My uncle’s memorial service was this past weekend. It had been pushed back and pushed back for a variety of reasons and Friday afternoon I realized I just wasn’t going to make it.  I was still finishing up one article and after the rush of the last few weeks, I wasn’t looking forward to making a mad dash up to Baltimore and back.  I spent the weekend here with my girl, intent on chilling out.  We had some nice impromptu fun with friends and neighbors, including dinner one evening.  At the time the service was being held Saturday, I was down in the chicken coop, shoveling out the bottom layer of composted leaves and chicken droppings to put some on my garden.  I think, wait, I know my uncle would have appreciated that, as we had many a conversation over the years on our shared love of gardens and chickens and how much better my garden would grow if I had my own source of chicken manure.

It was good to spend some quality quiet time with Edie this weekend.  She seems to be making the transition of new school/new soccer team/bff moving to Guatemala fairly well.  She began last week complaining that one of the boys in her class from her elementary school had stopped her in the hallway to talk college football – the horrors!  I reminded her that she spent most of last football season talking football with this young man (as well as basketball during that season) and that he was probably in the same boat as her, dealing with new school, he was probably looking to talk to any friendly face he knew about anything he could and with her, he knew their common denominator was college football.  I was pretty tickled to discover that by week’s end, she had gotten over the horror of a boy (!!) talking to her in the middle of the school hallway enough to give me the scouting report and matchups for this week’s games.  When I asked how she knew, she just shrugged and admitted to having talked to said boy all week about football in the hallway as if it was no big deal.  I was quite happy to hear it. 

This week is already shaping up to be busy too, although not as frantic as the last two- meetings, get togethers or work just about every night, with a final editing session before my little project is sent to the printer.  I also have some big house projects planned – Edie’s room is getting a desk, but I need to refinish it first, which is prompting a basement clean out so I have space to work before I make over her room.  I also have a glimmer of an idea for a whole new business, because I don’t have enough irons in the fire, clearly.  Last night I dreamt I was pregnant and in labor and we had to get to the hospital before the floodwaters stopped us.   This morning I looked up what all those things meant in dreams – apparently dreaming you are pregnant is a sign of creativity, and dreaming about floods can mean rebirth or unhappiness.  Hmmm.  I can’t quite figure out what the two of them together mean.  Thoughts?

Updates

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I have a gazillion things to do, but being the structured procrastinator that I am, I thought I’d use a blog post to help me organize my thoughts and photos.  Or continue to put off what I really need to be doing…
First up, the chickens.

They are almost full size hens.

Ozzy has gotten even more bizarre looking.

Although she is beautiful, isn’t she?
We love our funky chicken.

Butters may very well be a he. 
But he’s well mannered and as long as he stays that way, he is welcome in the coop.
The first time he gets mean to anyone, he’s chicken pot pie.  I’ve explained this to him/her and I think he/she gets it.

Harriet and Cuddles.  Cuddles is still the fluffiest chicken around. 
Brian named Harriet in honor of the old show ‘Ozzie and Harriet’, trying to balance out the fact that we named a chicken after a bat-eating heavy metal rock star.  At least someone around here has family values.
Remember last spring when I was all about ripping up the back yard by hand and I was on a mission to find a metal table and chairs for back there?

Well, I found one.  When Edie’s bff and family moved to Guatemala,  I offered to save them the trouble of shipping their table and chairs by letting them store it in my back yard.  We plan on painting it at some point, but in the meantime, it’s getting alot of good use.
And the butterfly bush that I thought I killed not only made a come back, but it bloomed this year!  A small one and only one, but it’s a bloom. 

The patchouli plant has taken off too. 
I’ve been playing around with a nice camera these days and I just happened to snap this as I was wandering around the back yard.  I sort of like how it turned out.

All that time spent digging weeds up by hand, we still have lots of weeds back there.  Sigh.  Every time I think I make headway, it rains and things grow back.  Still, it’s getting there.  I do like the lush, overgrown look.

Although this zebra grass by the side of the road needs to go.  I seriously thinned it this spring and look at it.  Anyone want some zebra grass?  I’m hacking it back to a tiny amount and I hate to throw out living plants, but I have no other place for it.  Drop me a line if you want some ornamental grasses.

Another view of my new table and chairs.  Don’t they look sweet back there?  What color should we paint them?  Definitely something to hide the gunk that seems to collect on outdoor furniture.  Chocolate brown?  I know white is classic and I’d love, LOVE to paint them white, but they will show so much dirt and I’ll have to repaint them every year and I’m way too lazy for that.
The weather has finally cooled down, the humidity has gone away and after I tackle this deadline this week, I’ve got some house reorganization plans I’m a little excited about.  It’s never a dull moment here.

Although, I do wonder how many more moments like this we have left – where she drags her kitchen set and babydolls outside for a picnic while Pat paints the boat.  She yelled at me for taking pictures “WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO TAKE PICTURES?” but someday, she’s going to look back and be happy I did.
At least I hope she is.

Once in a Lifetime.

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So while most of my weekend was spent doing boring house chores like cleaning both bathrooms in a single day, I did have one interesting event of note.
I worked a catering job Friday night with a friend’s catering business.  It was a dinner thanking the supporters of the University of Virginia Marching Band, in their rehearsal hall. I drive past that building quite a bit, as I cut through Culbreth regularly, so it was neat to see the inside.  I hadn’t been wowed by it before, but having been in it, I can say that I am now.  Clean lines, warm finishes and lots of big windows with a great view of Lambeth Field behind it. 
While we were setting up Friday afternoon, we got to listen to the entertainment for the evening do a little warm up and sound check, running through the majority of their show for later on.  While they weren’t in costume for this performance, I think it was the better one of the two I saw.
Although their costumes definitely added something to the later performance.
That, dear friends, are The Temptations.  I took the photo on a friend’s phone.  They were dressed all in pink, right down to their shoes.  Warming up, they started their rehearsal with a few acapella gospel numbers before moving on to all their hits, including my favorite “Papa was a Rolling Stone”. Tell me you don’t find yourself moving to that beat. And “Ball of Confusion”, another favorite of theirs, although I was in my thirties before I discovered that they did the first version.  I always thought it was a  Love and Rockets original. I am an Eighties New Wave child through and through. 
Definitely a once in a lifetime experience, watching them warm up in a room of less than 20 people, although seeing them in a room with less than 150 folks later in the evening was a once in a lifetime experience as well. Pretty hard to top that, so yeah, other than seeing The Temptations, the highlight of my weekend was cleaning both bathrooms.  What an exciting life I lead.

Plan B.

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The plan was for an group playdate at the park for my Girl Scout troop after school yesterday.

Despite my saying we weren’t going to continue once they left their elementary school, they all asked if we could please do Girl Scouts again this year.  They have so many other activities, I hesitated to say yes, until I realized that what they wanted was the social aspect – they wanted to know that they had time set aside here & there for their old pack of friends in the middle of making new friends at a new school.  So I said yes.  I’m a sucker for those girls.

We’re not officially starting it off until they are more settled in school, but I thought a get together would be good for the girls.  I thought they could all walk down to the park, I’d have a nice snack and they could play together until they had to run off to their other activities.

I knew there was a chance of rain in the forecast, as there has been all week.  But for the first time in days, the sun was actually out yesterday.  Until about 10 minutes before the girls were due to be released from school.  The clouds rolled in, but I perserved, having packed my little red wagon with a cooler of bottled water, tablecloth and napkins,  a big bowl of grapes and a very special treat, what we call “Uncle George’s O’Henry Bars” – named for the fishing buddy of Pat who gave me the recipe after I downed about half a pan of them at his house one night.  One of the very recipes in my repertoire that isn’t completely from scratch and super healthy. 

Normally, I ask that parents send a healthy snack.  I specifically request fruit, no sugary treats, because I don’t give a rats behind what any study says, you put sugar in that group of girls and get ready to peel them off walls.

As the some of the girls came up the street, thunder boomed.  I had the girls break down the park set up and bring it back to the house.  I ran around my house, totally unprepared for nine 10 year old girls.  I moved the coffee table out of the living room, spread the tablecloth and declared it a ‘floor picnic’.  They devoured their snack, piled on my sofa and started crawling the walls. 

My living room is exactly eight and a half feet wide by eleven feet long.  It is not big enough for 9 girls.  It’s definitely not big enough for 9 girls who are crawling the walls thanks to the sugar I had just fed them because I thought it’d be nice to give them a treat and because I thought they’d be running it off at the park.  Rain plans are never my thing and usually, it works out for me.  Not so much here.

I tried capturing the sweet moment of all of them piled on top of each other on my sofa with a very nice camera I’m currently borrowing to see what I want to upgrade to.  Apparently that plan didn’t work out so well for me either, as I really don’t know how to use a nice camera, only my fancy point and shoot.  I have a whole slew of pictures that look like that. 
Sigh.
Finally, it stopped thundering, the anticipated downpour never happened and the girls asked if they could go outside.  So, back to the park we went and they happily spent the rest of the afternoon running around in the misting rain. Alls well that ends well, even if you have to scramble to get there.
Thank you all for your comments and emails after my last post.  There seems to be some bumps in being able to put my uncle to rest – things like no will – so for the time being, we are on hold as to when we will have to go up for any sort of service.  In the meantime, life goes on, even when nothing seems to go to plan. Which seems to be the plan.
Uncle George’s O’Henry Bars
1 cup sugar
1 cup light Karo corn syrup
1 cup peanut butter
Combine over heat until smooth.
Stir in 6 cups Special K
Spread in pan.
Melt:
1 bag semi-sweet chocolate chips
1/2 bag butterscotch chips
Spread on top.  Chill. Serve when hardens.

Go.

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My weekend:
Up early Saturday morning to hit market.  I bumped into neighbor Brian and wandered some with him, comparing notes on the chickens (they live in his back yard) and talking about what we need to do to winterize the chicken house.  I then ran into our friend Straz and wandered around with him.  Normally I make a quick run to the stands I like to patronize and then cut out of there.  Straz hadn’t been to market in a while and I found myself wandering and exploring the market like I haven’t made time for in at least a season, if not more with him.  Bonus, I got some impromptu quality time with Straz, which set my weekend off on a good note.  Thanks Straz.
Came home, packed up the fam for a quick little roadtrip.
Destination?  The Cowpasture River Preservation Association Annual picnic. The Cowpasture River are the headwaters of the James, along with the Jackson River and fall under the duties of my favorite Riverkeeper.

The Cowpasture is one of the cleanest rivers around.  It runs through the western most part of Virginia, in the Allegheny mountains.  It may be one of the most beautiful parts of the state.  As you can see in the above shot, the water is low.  We didn’t go out on the river, but we did enjoy mingling with the members of CPRA. They are a lovely group of folks.
This hollowed out tree was a popular topic of conversation.  Somehow it withstood the derecho while more solid trees around it were blown over.

The hostess of the picnic said there was an article published about it, but I haven’t been able to google it to link it.  It’s big and old and incredibly hollow.  It will no doubt outlive us all.
Another popular topic of conversation was the ensemble worn by the mini-me. The Picasso dress with zebra print rain boots.  Pretty sure only she could pull that off.  And don’t let this picture fool you – she was much friendlier to people who weren’t her mother and didn’t have cameras in their hands.
The ‘tween ‘tude is strong with her.
Johnny, one of Pat’s River Rats, so kindly put us up in his cabin farther down the river that evening.
Yet another quiet unplugged evening by the water….

I love the view from the front of the cabin.  Mountains and cow pastures with the river running behind it.  Quiet and soothing and a little bit of heaven. 
Sunday morning, we had to get up and book it back.

Cville Swaps  had our third swap this weekend.  We had planned it before I knew Pat had so much going on this weekend, so I didn’t have time to whip up any baked goods, but thanks to my pickling habit, I did have a good number of jars to bring.

Which Edie proceeded to swap to get herself some new earrings that Stephanie had brought.
I also brought home some BBQ sauce, peach honey, some of Vikki’s jams as well as her pickled blueberries.  (I am not the only pickling fool around.) My child is much more inclined to eat Vikki’s jams than she is mine.  I chalk it up to years of my bad jam.  I get it. It’s a big reason why we do the swap – so that I can get Vikki’s jams and jellies.  I got some cherry vanilla, peach butter and a peach jalepeno jam that I think is going to go well on a ham sandwich.

Robyn also brought some Paw Paws, so we covered all the bases of home made, home grown and foraged for foods this swap.
Swap over, we dropped Edie at a friend’s and headed south.
The James River Brewing Company was having a pre-opening celebration. Pat’s been working with them on a few things (including a possible pawpaw brew), so we were quite happy to pop in and try some of their new brews.  They officially open this weekend. Their tasting room is beautiful. In addition to the breaktaking white oak counter at the bar, they used reclaimed wood throughout. Warm space, good beer, worth the trek to Scottsville.

 

I sampled a few, the Green Eyed Lady being my favorite.  Pistachios were used in the brewing.  It has a higher alcohol content, which led me to calling it the One Eyed Lady.  A few of those and I’d definitely be one-eyed. 
We headed back into town and grabbed a quick bite at Beer Run.  It was packed and as we were finishing up our meal, we had the pleasure of being forced to listen to the rant of some returning UVa kid who had his parents and grandparents in tow, complaining how they had to wait 10 minutes for a table.  Oh the humanity of it all.  I was surprised they didn’t just pack up and leave he bitched so long and so loud.  Clearly he’s never worked a day in his life in the food service industry.  I was trying to have a pleasant conversation and date night with my husband, after spending a weekend running around going to work with him and here this guy stood right behind us yelling about how horrible it was he had to wait for a table.  It took quite a bit of willpower to not say anything to him, but I realized he’d just start yelling at me too.  It was bad enough I had to listen to him. It was bum ending to an otherwise busy, but good weekend.
And now I need a weekend to recover from my weekend.  The last three roadtrips I have just pulled dirty clothes out of the suitcase, made sure there were clean ones in there and headed back out.  I think it might be time to unpack it, maybe put it away and spend some time at home?  My house is starting to get that September old lady house smell that inspires fall cleaning and I really need to crack down on this regular bedtime thing.  That child must start getting to bed at a reasonable hour on a regular basis before I will allow her any wiggle room on weekend.  That didn’t go over well when I told her that but Pat did high five me on my mad parenting skills. So I’ve got that going for me.