this day is

2012-01-20T10:54:00.000-08:00

Oh, it's been a while.
A new year, and many changes, a few of which I'm not quite ready to say out loud yet. Suffice it to say that we've been back on the island since mid December, and we're smitten. (Again.) For so many reasons. Not the least of which is the beautiful snow we've had in the past few days, which is slated to be rained away later today, last I checked.
Today, D is up at work for a few hours while I sit with grits and a mug of hot tea fighting off the worst bladder infection I've ever had. Trying to drink + cranberry it away = bad idea. Really, really bad idea.

Soon, a road trip back East. Soon, so many good things. 2012, I'm happy you're here.

2011-11-04T14:03:00.000-07:00

Sweet potato soup and a day of Spring (Fall) cleaning; my folks and grandmother are spending the weekend at the farm and I need to carve a third bedroom out of our small, improvised office. The season mostly wrapped up, I'm using the occassion to pile nine months- three years worth of files into totes and haul it upstairs, to one of the only two closets in the house. We're making progress, but it's slow. Luckily, my family have a five hour drive ahead of them; I've got time.

I've also, I hope, got time to make my mother a cake of some yet-to-be-determined sort, and to make copious use of streamers and balloons. Her 60th birthday was a few days ago. My mother never missed a birthday of my brother or mine, to cover the house in streamers and balloons after we went to sleep and again before she went to work, for us to get off the school bus, decorations strewn in the trees at the bottom of our long, long driveway; it is an important tradition.

Soup is no more, back to that third bedroom.

2011-10-26T18:37:00.000-07:00

Google translating Cuban poetry from a battered soft cover copy of a text published when I was seven, bought in a sticky, bustling, diesel scented market in Havana; the most beautiful cover.

Pasting to preserve my typing:

Midwestern lawyer
the same mediocre lawyer
author of fifteen volumes of poetry
novels and
plays and essays
all of little value today
except the first anthology
Spoon River
one of the best books ever written that no man
never in any language
this type of work do some crazy nobody knows
Pro
not for fame
or money
or to worship anyone or anything
but in a natural way:
suchas child that smeared a wall,
an old man reading a newspaper in the sun
or the baker kneads the bread of the poor
each early morning of god

2011-08-05T05:27:00.000-07:00

Dear everyone: Be good to each other. Conjure happiness (not just for yourself, but for others as well). Don't send me thoughtless centre-of-the-universe emails, they might just be the first thing I read in the morning, and then I'll remember that you're an asshole for the rest of your existence. It's just one stream of bad energy against you, but do you really need that?

No? No.

Drglffffgachtljasfkddd.

Dear today: Be nice, please. Please?

2011-06-13T11:36:00.000-07:00

Two scenes from a (hazy) happy weekend:

I love these people. This place.

2011-06-12T14:43:00.001-07:00

A fantastic night, and a Sunday spent in pajamas and bedhead. A concert in a barn. Too much to drink, in wool socks on hay-covered wood floors. A party in the back of the farm van, on cushions, with bottles of wine and whiskey, and homemade pizza for the parking attendants. Old friends. New friends. This farming community, even in its wider radius, is a beautiful thing. We are so lucky.

Today, the two of us in our pajamas on the sofa, lying in a pile and watching dvds. A break for cookie making.

Now he works on the goat house, while I restore some order to ours. I wish Monday was more weekend.

2011-05-29T10:35:00.000-07:00

A beautiful night with parts of the crew and scattegories. And copious booze. And a cold pool. The first time in a while that I've found my way to bed after two.

Texts from a friend at Sasquatch, breaking my heart by naming off current acts.

Chapped lips and dirty hair. Today is going to be one for staying in. For improper clothes. For multiple small meals all day long. For books and the handmade quilt on our sofa. For strong coffee drowned in cream.

All of these things sound perfect right now.

Tomorrow, I make the farm a not-for-profit. Another thing that sounds perfect. Let's hope that it is.

2011-05-22T12:26:00.000-07:00

Dark greens, raw milk, and an afternoon of birdsong and fresh, warm air. Yes, please.

It's been a difficult week. Coupled conveniently with monthly shifts in brain chemistry, the past couple of days I could have done without.

Up until last night, when he and I had a cookout on the wood stove on our porch. Cracking open a jar of last season's pickled carrots, and snapping deadwood off the willow tree next to our house to use as roasting sticks. Watching the light drain out, in a pile on the floor, until the mosquitoes came.

I am envious of the folks who get long weekends. Scheduled reprieve, written in stone. Untouchable. In the Summer, no less. It's been long enough now that, thinking about it the other day I realized that I associated such things with being in University. With being a kid. It's easier that way, I do think.

Tomorrow we figure out how to fight for a spot in a market that's decided it doesn't need any more small organic farmers. (One, btw, is apparently the magic number- and it's not b/c that farm doesn't want us there.) I start working my way through the 13 page offer to proceed that we got last week (yay, costsharing! yay, honey extractor, and books, and infastructure and a vaguely frightening number of other things). We give the go-ahead to our C&E intern to create a non profit for us. And we plant, plant, plant, plant, plant (plant, plant).

But for now, I need a beer.

2011-05-14T05:32:00.001-07:00

Baking in our tiny kitchen last night, two of us, while he serenaded the room with his guitar. In bed at midnight, they, up at 6:30 to harvest greens and fiddleheads, while I snuck an extra hour of sleep. She is such a lucky thing to have found. At 20, so committed. I've missed waking to a house that smells this delicious.

The first market is this morning, in 30 minutes. Rain is forecasted all day. Still, in the park near the river, I'm excited to make up a thermos of tea and spend it there with friends.

An aside: hearing myself be called/considered "older" by this new generation of conscious kids is still a trip. What a deceptively accelerated time, the mid & late 20's. A few years ago I was a kid, now I'm an adult. The line is not blurred- but where did it come from.

Okay, coffee and getting out the door. Happy Saturday, folks.

2011-05-05T15:51:00.000-07:00

Holy cold. Day five and I've mustered up the strength to wear real pants and tidy the house. Feed myself things. Not sleep for 16 hours. Of these I am happy. Last night I was more miserable than I remember being with a cold since I was in grade school.
This aside, it's sunny as all out there, and this evening, I got this text. Life is a-ok.
PS: That's organic turkey litter he's referring to.

2011-05-03T13:13:00.001-07:00

I have been sick socks for days and days. Time is up, for it to be over, I'd say. Payback for not getting sick all Winter?

I want nothing more than a box of cereal to eat for the next three meals, but the interns are picking up our groceries when they go out for theirs, and I, red nosed and pajama clad, have to set a good example. Cereal, in Canada, is disturbingly overpriced; it's not in their budget, it shouldn't be in mine. Welcome to farm life.

Speaking of farm life, I have good feelings about this years' crew; I have good feelings about this year. It's a happy thing.

Less of a happy thing is all of this wet and cold. Dear Spring, don't you know we need you?

And that's the sort of post you get from me when I haven't washed my hair in three days. End.

2011-04-21T15:04:00.001-07:00

Also: Last weekend we visited the local goat dairy, thinking of getting a couple for ourselves, as the failed vegans that we are. Low light (inside a huge barn in light of new babies and mid-April snow!?), and total distraction at the hands of herds of baby goats (!!) meant mostly blurry shots, but I like this guy (and because you probably weren't at your neighbour's goat dairy last weekend, I'll share it):

2011-04-21T14:55:00.000-07:00

A post I just put on the farm blog:

I learned of this project (click) a couple of years ago, but bumped into it again today, and was reminded of the Earth Day post we did a couple of years ago about the Pacific Garbage Patch because the two are in no way unrelated. Chris Jordan traveled to Midway Atoll in 2009 to photograph the effects of the Pacific Garbage Gyre on the Albatross populations there, specifically the chicks who, 2000 miles from the nearest continent, are fed remnants of our poorly discarded plastic by their parents who mistake it for food. The photos (click) here, speak for themselves.

On the eve of Earth Day, these lead me to reflect upon the largely unseen, but no less profound, impact even those of us with the best of intentions have on this planet of ours.

It also brings into question the things we, like the foraging Albatross, mistake as food, but that's another post altogether..

To a lifetime of consciously- and continually- stepping up our efforts, and to putting our energies behind the things we believe in.

To Earth Day, folks.

2011-04-15T08:11:00.000-07:00

Six sets of hands here to help us these days; the two of us make eight. Two more interns arrive before the start of May. And we may be taking on a young cook once school is out. It's officially the new season in these parts.

This morning, it's tea and pajamas and a rug covered in stacks of photocopies. A (very) Rustic Guide to Farming, V.1. A workbook of sorts for the kids, times six, one page at a time. I think they're about 50 pages each.

Yesterday we visited an elderly neighbour who had a deep freeze for us in his basement. His kitchen and livingroom were lined at the ceiling with all of the blue and red ribbons he had won in the past from farming. A small garage had been converted into a chicken coop, and he had built a couple of small stalls in his walkout basement for chicks he was raising. It was perfect.

2011-04-05T14:44:00.000-07:00

Oh, tofurkey, how I have missed you. We've pretty well given up all processed foods around here. The occasional box of cereal. Loaf of store bread. Chocolate bar. Bag of pasta. Everything else is single- or logical- ingredient(s). But on a visit to the GTA, the grocery store we picked up a helium balloon for our three-year-old niece in greeted us with the novelty that is good sandwich "meat". And with heavy spicy mustard on crusty buns, I have been enjoying it. If my stomach would allow it, I would probably have eaten it all by now, a sandwich for every meal. Oops?

I've been picking away all day at prep for our new interns. Two of them arrive within the next week. We're trying to decide to hire a fifth or not. And another email from a wwoofer rolled in this afternoon, asking if we'd like help starting this weekend. Putting together their binders, writing policy, making support materials, small assignments, etc for them, it's just now occured to me how strange my life is. I round up the kids (still v. close to being peers) whom I (we) respect the most, and then I invite them to come live with us for six months, with a handful of other peers who share the same drive +idealism + goodness.

I remember when I was about 19, coming out of small town USA, moving to the suburbs of one of the most forward thinking cities in Canada, reading about a little village on the edge of the sea, where you could come live, and surf, and squat, for free, as long as you helped out. For free?! Coming from a Republican heartland, I remember thinking this must be the most beautiful, perfect thing I'd ever heard.

19 year-old me would be proud of 29 year-old me.

Differently, I really want to play in clay. I really need a pottery wheel.

2011-04-04T14:41:00.000-07:00

Rain and mgmt. And notebooks and forms. And a clean kitchen and a camera.

Today I hallucinated a donkey into the yard.

Last night we had a crazy snowstorm. Snowspat? It didn't last long, but it came out of nowhere, under a big clap of thunder, and managed to re-cover the ground in white in a matter of minutes. I'm not complaining; I look forward to warmth, but I immediately miss the nighttime light that snow provides. Walking back from the barn the other night it took me a while to figure out what was so different; where such dark came from.

Hello.

2011-03-24T17:51:00.000-07:00

A clean kitchen, the last stick of incense, a pinapple and banana smoothie, the new Dadant catalog, Rumi, and the closely impending weekend (well, we're at the transition [our town name here] festival Saturday,but there's a bottle of whiskey and the best of folks lined up for tomorrow night;
it's near enough for me).Also: I am fully blissed out on Vampire Weekend's Contra. I know, right? Oops.D & I rented a car and ran away for my birthday earlier this week. A random town chosen on a map based on it's name and proximity to a freshwater coast turned out not to be a town at all, but rather a house at the end of an uninhabited 4k long single lane road. No room to turn around, equal parts of ice, sinky mud, slush, and bare dirt, hill after hill after sharp corner after sharp corner, bordered on either side by small trees, marsh, or snowbanks. The rental car had full coverage.
I giggled like a six year old while trying not to get stuck. In the middle of nowhere. It was lovely.

2011-03-18T10:30:00.000-07:00

My stomach has been broken for two days now. Eating nothing acidic (all the joy is acidic!), and nursing the shit out of it, I quietly mope at the thought of everyone else having a beer or baking a tray of (warm, gooey, delicious) cookies. And then, the second it's better, all I can think of is breaking it again in the form of coffee. Oh.

Instead, buckwheat crepes. And water. Like someone with a memory slightly better than a goldfish.

Looking out the window after waking up this morning, I could see the ground. We were away for the great thaw that was the new year. It's been months. I have mixed feelings about this. High hopes, but mixed feelings.

2011-03-17T12:30:00.001-07:00

I'm getting more used to the idea of being the organic farmers who go to the only diner in the nearest (two-blocks-squared) town and order a lunch of french fries, pie with ice cream, and tea. I used to think we needed to set an example. Now I think we're human, and sometimes we like ice cream for lunch. Tell me you don't.
Of course, what the small town doesn't know is that we've also been participating in self-imposed cooking classes all week. Yesterday was teamwork Wednesday, tonight is mine. The problem with running a small farm, you see, is that by the time dinner rolls around, you have neither time nor energy to make it. So you have pasta. Or cereal. Or cinnamon toast. (Okay, maybe it's not usually that bleak, maybe there usually is some chopping of fresh things, but you get the idea: we eat a lot of simple things over and over and over again.) But not this week. No, this week we've been alternating nights, and every night we've eaten like kings. Or at least like people who aren't trying to give themselves scurvy. I think it might be a new standing challenge. Tonight: rapini.

Which reminds me, I need to order the final bit of our seeds. Melons and eggplant, another variety of carrot, quinoa and amaranth, probably a couple other things I jotted down and no longer remember. The seedlings in our grow room look all sorts of happy; it's very exciting. Also exciting is the brick fireplace A is building in the hoophouse as we speak. It will have a flat, open top to boil syrup down on. Right now we are boiling on a propane stove, and the fireplace that's on the main floor of the barn. The propane stove goes as soon as his fireplace is finished. I love this mud/maple season. So much.
Even if, as we speak, my toes are still frozen from hiking out to check on our bees and take a look at the new hoophouse frame. I can't seem to remember to wear proper boots when we stop in at that side of the property lately; it's always on the way from somewhere else. Somewhere with sidewalks. Somewhere that lets me wear shoes made of thin cotton when there's still knee deep snow in some places. My mother always hated that. I'm glad that she didn't get to see me sink to my knees and trip when I was running back from the apiary. Although she would have had a good laugh. I sure did, especially when I didn't want to catch myself with my ungloved hands, so I used my elbows instead.

Now you know, internet; I hope your day is at least as graceful.

2011-03-06T17:26:00.000-08:00

This was last weekend, but this one felt exactly the same. Happy.
And now: an open-faced sourdough/sundried tomato/fresh dill/goats cheese sandwich, with tomato sauce and honey. (And then heading over to the barn to play with friends.)
Yum. (To both.)

2011-03-05T13:28:00.000-08:00

Lentil soup: curry and saffron brought back from Africa by a dear friend, sour cream, lemon, loads of olive oil. Yum.

The entire farm has been empty all day, save for me. If you knew this place, you'd know how rare that was. A dreary, quiet day alone on the property. D took our wwoofers into town to poster at about noon, a rare trip sans cell phone. I'm actually a wee bit worried about them, as were at 4.5 hours now. Thats what happens when you get so used to cell phones, I guess.

I keep being surprised at how luxurious having weekends off feels, now that they're mine again (however briefly, I am sure). To sleep in, slowly make crepes in my pajamas, go through the day with epic bedhead, tidy our home, cook, bake, read, compute, relax, etc; it's amazing. This compared to the four days at the end of the week being comprised of something like 4 or 5 odd hours of sleep, with baking and dishes and baking and market and dishes and baking on the other ends. It's truly lovely. And baking for myself again? We won't even get into that.

And the rest of the day? Dreaming of building a one room cabin in the woods. With a sleeping loft and a good porch and a wood fired stove around which all things revolve. Dreaming, but still. It's a happy way to spend a rainy day. And now to check the banana bread in the oven & greet the car I just heard pull up outside.

2011-03-03T14:33:00.001-08:00

I can not stop yawning.

I just clicked "send" on an email to nearly 400 people. A little bit terrifying.

Also, this ad makes me happy:

Wanted: Beekeeper, age 86 seeking partner/entrepreneur

Wanted: Beekeeper, age 86 seeking partner/entrpreneur to take over bee business. Accommodation and shop available. Education required, family would be an asset.

What a cool opportunity.

And now, back to work. Two enormously exciting plans in the work. I'll tell you about them once (if ) they happen.

Happy Thursday!

2011-02-28T16:09:00.000-08:00

Yay, 24-hour periods like today.

Wine with M, while (balloon) sword fighting with his six year old. A long drive to the airport for a reunion with a much loved friend who will be with us here for a while. A late night. A late morning. Lunch and tea and catching up with a friend we'd gotten used to spending half of every week with. Playing with a dog at a neighbouring farm while we dropped one of our interns from last year off there to get her fill of biodynamics this season. Postering in the big(-ish) town nearby. Two new books (one with two handwritten treasures tucked into the pages). The best (jerk tofu!) burritos in any number of nearby towns. An antique store with the motherload of vintage photos. (I should have bought the turn of the (last) century one of a circle of camels and two men digging a hole in the foreground. tattered corners. glued onto old black paper. it was beautiful.) Plans for two (wine/board games/mix tape) parties before Sunday. And a happy little mahem bar, to ice the chocoaley mapley hempy caramely cake.

Oh, cake.

And now to hunker down in bed with this quilt made by my great aunt, pj's, tea, and Rumi.

2011-02-28T06:11:00.000-08:00

The key to happiness is making yourself crepes every morning for breakfast. I'm certain of it.

What a week it has been. We've been blindsided by the politicians in this town. Instead of playing along, we're simplifying.

I can't tell you what that sigh of relief felt like.

Two on-going, long-term, much loved wwoofers are back and two interns are hired. 1-2 more may be rounded up in the coming weeks, depending on how the interviews go. We're so excited for the folks we have lined up to move in; it's a high bar this year for applicants. (Not that it wasn't last year, but we've learned some things.)

Today, in addition to getting our soil on the way, and me working on the never-ending budget, we're postering the local towns. Five of us in an old Landcruiser the colour of bananas.

But first, a shower.

Happy Monday, kids.

2011-02-17T12:11:00.000-08:00

If there have been days this stressful in all my life, I don't remember them. I hope I don't remember these, either. Holy. I woke up every hour last night to look at the clock, realizing it was only 1:30, 2:30, 3:30, etc. At one point he woke up as well, and mumbled some excited declaration about how it was the coolest version with the most advanced features. I was conscious enough to ask him what he was talking about. We agreed that it was an atlatl. Gotta get all your tricked out features.

Baking today before the sun rose. I still must dig us out from under the mountain of bowls, spoons, sheets, and knives that bound out of our sink four days a week, sometimes more. Hey, lets start a bakery without a dishwasher. Great idea.

Even better: let's start a bakery, talk of seriously expanding it, enter some strange, grown-up-style-turbulent sort of civic duty, work on two budgets at once (yay, starting another business that you have no experience in & don't know where to start, you just found your way through that!), hire interns, and feel the pressure of the ever so quickly approaching next nine months of your life on your doorstep, as the rain melts the safety of the snow..

I might be melting a little bit.

I need a drive down the Oregon coast. Yurts, dirty hair, and bottles of wine. Good West Coast coffee. Mountains. Sea. The air this time of year in places other than here. I need a proper vacation; the sort long and uninterrupted enough to do any good.

Not a restart, weeks away.

Oh, my. I think I'll have to settle on pizza and a milkshake. But first, I'll have to do these dishes and wait for the market to close so I can have my husband back until morning.

2011-01-23T10:36:00.000-08:00

I really, truly mean to be picking out colours, buying paint, moving furniture, rolling the walls, moving the bedroom, getting a new sofa, etc. Instead I'm sitting on the bed in the spare room, eating dry cereal in my pajamas, at 1:30 in the afternoon.

There are too many things that need done, the only solution, clearly, is to avoid them all. To revel in the fact that there is not a single other person on the farm besides the two of us. That, for another few hours, at least, it will be quiet here.

Oh, resolve.

2011-01-15T06:12:00.000-08:00

In bed sick. I may have slept half of last night.

Gave up baking plans, after a batch of delicious buttermilk scones, (next time to be made with a bit more lemon and a bit sweeter) to watch S2 of Breaking Bad in bed with my favourite person. He made me soup. Just like he brought me the Excedrin at 730 A, and told me he'd take care of today.

I sit here, still a lump, in front of a heater, in the flannel pants and bedhead I plan to wear for hours to come. A good thing about making scones while sick, scones that are left behind on your kitchen counter, is that you have breakfast, when you need it most. The kettle is boiling. A papaya is waiting to be cut. That's as far as my plans go.

2011-01-12T13:42:00.000-08:00

Two and a half weeks spend in the Motherland. In various parts of it. With various warmths. Days spent bicycling on the beach. Spent reading on the porch. Spent on organic frozen yogurt. Enormous amounts of sushi. On happy times with good friends. And the happy, lovely children of good friends.

The hardest parts of last year were sent up on little slips of paper into a bonfire on NYE. The best, planted in the centre of some palms, in a spot chosen by a six year old, who pointed out that the leaves made a heart above it. I'm taking this as a good sign.

Today, baking. The kitchen smells fantastic. Sugar and butter and spices. Heavy cream and wine. And this old The National album, that I've sent round and round all day. Now, to finish up these gougeres, and those cinnamon rolls, and to chill out for the night.

I am so happy to see these days lengthing again. It's amazing the difference it makes; it never did before.

I hope you're all well and lovely.

2010-12-17T19:29:00.000-08:00

Seven hours ago, as logged by FB, I was baking. Six hours before that I started.
There's at least another hour and a half left.

Funny thing is, I'm happy as all.

Covered in flour and on my fourth set of dishes.

The little unbleached takeout style boxes that fed ex brought me yesterday,
all tied up with string and a sprig of fir, filled with my handmade deliciousness?
Yeah, that makes me pretty happy.

And the quiche in the oven for the cafe tomorrow?
It will be all I can do not to cut a giant slice out of it tonight.

All is well in the universe tonight.
I hope that it is for you, as well.

2010-11-26T08:27:00.000-08:00

Perfect cheesecloth coffee and the first oatmeal of the season.
It snowed last night. It stuck last night.

It's still snowing now, and I'm in my pajamas, at 11 am, blissed out by the loveliness of a morning kept for myself. First snows are high on my list of favourite things. The first snowfall and then the first time it sticks. I love how the cosines factor of a home increases exponentially as soon as it falls.

I am a happy girl. I am thinking of bailing on plans to go out tonight, even, holing up in here just sounds so perfect. Plus: if it keeps up, I'm gonna need to take a sled down the hill.
You can't fail to properly greet the first snow.

Loosley on the agenda, as well, today, are the following things:
1) Work on my immigration application. (It's time, kids, it's been 8 years!)
2) Figure out the logistics of turning the farm into a non-profit.
3) Figure out the logistics of a mini-road trip, in a truck. I may have purchased a used kick wheel, four hours from here. Oops?
4) Bake: carrot (cup)cakes, carrot walnut scones, pies, shortbread, caramels, chocolates, etc. Saturdays are busy days at the market.
5a) If not bailing on the party tonight, concoct a costume on an open theme.
5b) If bailing on the party tonight, try to persuade others to do so as well, and have a sled-riding, hot cocoa, wood fire fest instead. (I adore that I essentially live on a small commune.)
6) Rework the CSA brochure.
(More of a weekend job, but in the interest of making immediate lists..)

Ah. I hope you're all happy and well. I hope it's snowing there, too.
xo

2010-11-18T07:19:00.000-08:00

AM baking for the market is quickly becoming one of my favourite things.A migraine last night had me down for the count for a good 3 and a half hours. Ew. Today I feel as though 1)I'm recovering from the flu and 2)I was hit in the head with a cast iron pan. Having been hit by a truck I find myself comparing these things to it. I know I met the absolute best case scenario, I have no illusions about this, my car was totaled, save for the exact space in which I was sitting. The space from which I crawled out and walked away with a mere bruise and a headache. But still, I was hit by a truck, and it was more pleasant than any migraine I've ever had.
Also: good old Scintillating Scotoma. Googling this last night to see depictions of the same geometric flickering rainbow bubble I am treated to, I am now certain of where early 90's dining furniture got its inspiration. Seriously. More proof it was never a good idea.If it holds, today I learn to make quiche. Any favourite recipes much appreciated. I'm not big on eggs, but we're on lunch duty again Saturday and Sunday at the cafe and it seems like a good plan. Along with panini. And chili.

Oh, I need to go back to bed.

2010-11-16T06:07:00.000-08:00

Good morning.
Really, it is.

We had such a lovely "weekend". Spent the day in bed, with intermissions to cook, make cookies, go for a walk, etc. Put away the first season of Breaking Bad.
Mindless relaxation? That hasn't existed around here for ten months.
No, really. It was incredible.

I also wrote a long, long letter to my grandmother this weekend,
while eating too many crepes and drinking the most delicious coffee.
It's all in the cheesecloth and the heavy cream, folks. In fact, I'm going to need to make some now.

Today: Learning about funding for small farms, buying tickets to the premiere of a good friend's film on Thursday, sourcing things for the cafe, learning to make delicious paninis, and (hopefully) sourcing a Paw Paw tree to plant for little Silas. And thank you cards to the vets. I need to get on that as well.

Soon (tomorrow?): Xmas treat b/makeathon with wwoofer J. Caramels and fudge and shortbread and the like to wrap up all pretty as gifts. Fun/Yum.

And, that coffee..

2010-11-07T18:45:00.000-08:00

Cut up fingers and too much coffee; we took over the little cafe in the market this weekend. We don't know if it'll stick, but it was happy and fun.

A reprieve from the fact that we lost Silas on Thursday. He's in the pasture, outside of the windows he spent so many days behind, lying in the sun which filtered in. It was so sudden. It is so heart-wrenching. He was only 5, our poor sweet little puppy-cat.

My socks are tired and sad.

2010-10-20T05:55:00.000-07:00

Perfect coffee, on the bathroom's brick floor, still in my pajamas, fast approaching 9 am. I meant to be in the shower by now. But it's warm in here. And the coffee. And the need to internet. And and and.

Yesterday I spent four hours in the car, driving deep into the Northern GTA. For jars. It was epic. It felt dirty. I'm happy to be back. In the country. (What a strange thing to mean.)

Today I get to drive to a little village to buy organic apples and cider from a fellow small farmer. Then we'll sell them at our little shop, and tell people stories about their origin, and their farmer. Its a romantic little circle.

I'm hoping that the little village (which I know is reasonably near by, but I've yet to google) is in the same direction as the best little pizza shop. I want to bring the farm home lunch. The "farm" that leaves in a week and a half. How surreal is that? A big autumnal party on Monday for them. Followed by camping or cottaging, up North a bit. A proper send off to the folks we've spent most hours with since early Spring. Ah.

And, lastly, I get to scheme about a new endeavor, with one of our wwoofers who wants to intern next year. And who can bake. Well. That makes two of us. And if there's one thing this town needs, it's good baking. Oh?

Okay. Shower. And moving forward with the day. The coffee is drained. (I must make more, post shower.) Mmm. Good morning!

2010-10-14T17:14:00.000-07:00

It's weird to be the town's organic farmer('s wife). I really wanted to buy a bag of smart food tonight. Alas. If I don't uphold food ethics, who will?

We've been working on the booth we're putting into the Community Market this week. It opens on the weekend. It's gorgeous. People are excited. I'm excited. It's strange to know all of the town's business-folk, to be in on something like this with them. It's weird to be so establishing ourselves as solid residents here; as contributors to the structure of this place.

I've made labels for our pickles with old family photos on them. I can hardly wait to show my grandmother (it's her family).

And now: a bath in a giant old fashioned tub and yummy tea? I think my Autumn might be constructed of this new ritual. These cold nights, the scent of that air, it's the perfect marriage.

PS: Have you had Komatsuna? It's new to me, it's our first time growing it- it's so good. I am sad that harvests are nearly over.

That's all!

2010-09-20T23:12:00.000-07:00

This Western coast is beautiful. Moist and green with the perfect balance of sweet and salty air. Clouds cling to every hill. Strangers say hello. It is lovely.

It's also incredible how much lighter things are, waking up 3000-some-K from the farm; I remember this.

It's going to be difficult to turn East on Wednesday. I am so grateful for this time. This air. All that water. The bear we watched eat dinner at dusk on the long, windy drive home. Oh, BC.

2010-09-14T09:52:00.000-07:00

Our stove ran out of propane this morning, half way through baking. A cast iron pan overflowing with small potatoes and olive oil. I had a shower instead.

Now they sit on a plate in front of me, a hopeful recipe to my right- there are bushels upon bushels to preserve in the next few days. And then it all stops, because I have a secret: we're hopping onto a plane Friday afternoon, bound West, sweet West. For a period which promises to be painfully brief, but bring us much joy. And rest. I'm so hopeful for rest.

But first, there are a thousand things to do. A big decision to make. Enormous amounts of produce to put up. This perfectly soft boiled egg to eat.

2010-09-03T16:50:00.000-07:00

The best part of being sick and sleeping all day is waking up at the blue hour, opening the curtains, and staring in awe.

We live in such a beautiful place. (That we is collective.)

2010-08-29T14:02:00.000-07:00

I've spent an entire afternoon in my kitchen. It feels like it's the first time it's been this tidy in ages. I think all homes associated with farms should be given housekeepers, by default. Farming means extra, extra dirt, and there's never any time, and I'm one of those folks who put tidyness at the top of their priority list; I just don't do well in clutter, or with a sink full of dirty dishes. But last night. Last night we needed to keep our hands busy. So when we finally made it home from the hop grower and craft brewer picnic we spent the second part of the afternoon at, at 9:30, and before dinner, we went at it.

We went at it because the first half of the afternoon was spent at the vet, with Silas, who had in the course of a few hours lost the ability to walk. Kidney stones. His bladder was the size of your fist and his temperature was so low it wouldn't register. They told us the anesthetic alone could kill him. And then they said if they were going to operate, they needed to do it right then. I bawled like a six year old and told them to do it. And then we had to wait. He was critical and needed to make it through 24 hours before they could give us good news.

Animal hospitals are funny, because you can't stay and hold vigil like you might be inclined to, crazy as you know that makes you seem. So we went to the grower/brewer event we were scheduled to attend, and half met all sorts of people we should know. And felt like throwing up every time the phone vibrated.

But this morning. This morning they told us his temp was back up. This morning they told us we can have him back on Tuesday. And so this morning I slowly celebrated with cinnamon toast and endless cups of coffee in my clean kitchen. I get my kitty back on Tuesday. It's a happy day.

And that, folks, is how you write an entire post about your pet. I am now officially one of those people. I can live with it.

2010-08-06T13:25:00.000-07:00

It was the tenth anniversary of the night we met. So we rented a car and followed the St. Lawrence Eastward to the sea. We were greeted by seals. And increasingly salty, widening waters. And stunning rocks. And light. And sunsets. And by Quebeqouis beers. And an infinite number of milkshakes and french fries ordered from roadside stands in a vegetarian-unfriendly land made moreso by our inability to speak the language. There was much giggling, through every exchange.And there were 3400 K, in four-point-five days. A motel with the most lovely early-70's decor. Two campsites. And a night spent on a long haul (courtesy of the flat we got on the beautiful logging road we detoured onto), napping, and waking up on the outskirts of Quebec city. Brunch and bagels (& a parking ticket!) in Mtl. And a straight drive home.
Equal parts relieved to no longer be in the car, and itching to go again.Impromptu vacations are the best kind.

2010-07-26T04:56:00.000-07:00

Last night we lounged in front of the stove on our porch, playing scrabble and eating blueberries on a rainbow coloured Mexican blanket. The first night in a long time that I've been cold; it was lovely. I'm still digging Summer, this year more than ever, I think, but I've been dreaming of Fall & Winter as of late. Gorgeous, crisp leaves, that beautiful permeating scent of decay, fluffy white all around, the stillness and quiet, and the way four walls increase in perfect cozyness tenfold. Yum.
Still, Summer, don't get any ideas, I'm not through with you yet.

I've also been trying to decide where we should go next weekend. Next weekend which is apparently a long weekend and thus means that any dreams of a yurt in a quiet campground are snuffed. (Ontario's urbanites all flee, at the same time, to the too-few provincial parks in the Southern part of the province on long weekends, wholly occupying them; it's not a place you want to be.) So I've looked at Via Rail's routes, only to be reminded of how expensive they are (shame! we could fall asleep in Montreal and wake up on the East Coast!). I'm going to try Amtrak today, but my first choice, I think, is renting a car & driving into rural North-of-North Bay-Quebec. I have fond memories of that place, from well over a decade ago. And it promises two things: 1) the novelty of a weekend spent in French and 2) real quiet. Plus: Lakes galore! Last night I was choosing potential destinations based on the shape of the bodies of water there. Like Lac Manicougan, or the curvy lakes between Saseginaga and Hunter's Point, Quebec. There may also have been a plea to drive up to James' Bay. Twenty some hours in a three day weekend, that's okay, right? It's James' Bay! It's Northern Lights and Arctic Sea! Aaah!

Alright. Holy words. Finishing this coffee and convincing myself to hop in the shower.
Those are the orders of the morning.

Hello.

PS: Everyone should make this cake. Trust me. It's breakfast three days later and it's lovely.
You can't go wrong with that much maple syrup.

2010-07-24T06:21:00.000-07:00

The farm had a logo contest earlier this summer, among friends, with the prize being that we'd buy the beer of the winner's choosing for the whole crew, and spend an evening engaged in the activity of their choice. Well, the girlfriend of an intern won, and it just so happens that last night was her last night at the farm this season, as she's moving west, so the celebration did double duty. Sweedish Kubb on the lawn, with a cooler full of craft beers, the farm's pickled beets and beans, and some homemade hula hoops until dark. And then, it wouldn't have been a respectable farm night w/out hopping into some body of water in our underwear, lucky for us, the pool was right there.

Oh, and I made a killer vegan cake.

Now I'm making my dear husband breakfast, so that he can get out into the fields to work on the hops. There's a tour coming by on Monday, of local brewers, of local growers, and the hops have taken second cake to the CSA and the never-ending weeds inherent in organic growing, so it's catch up time.

And then, it's to the GTA for his sister's birthday. My fingers are still crossed for Hillside, but I'm having a hard time justifying paying full price for acts I don't know, in the predicted rain. So we shall see how we feel the day of, perhaps. Either way, I still have high expectations for the weekend. Our extended abstinence from the GTA has, truly, made me grow fonder. It's become some sort of strange curiosity, which is several steps up from where it has previously stood. I can appreciate it. As long as we continue to only venture in every couple of months, that is.

And now I must make coffee.

Happy 24th of July, folks!

2010-07-21T15:06:00.000-07:00

Came home from my first Buddhist meditation to find our little home broken into, a delicious caramel apple waiting for us in the fridge. I love this place. That person, and his accompanying family; I feel more and more as though they've existed my whole life.

D&I have a couple of really good weekends coming up; I am excited for them. This, a goodbye party for one of the farm's favourite volunteers/a birthday party in the GTA for D's sister/a full day of Hillside, weather and ticket permitting (dear lord, pls!). Next, the ten-year anniversary of the night we met; we're stealing away someplace gorgeous and lovely for it (I still have to research where this may be!). But! Ten years! That's a long time, folks!

Oh, and we took Monday off to wander around some of the coastal towns of Lake Huron with his family. And, promptly upon returning, shrugged off all appropriate & otherwise omnipresent responsibility and lounged about on blankets on the lawn with our bookstore finds, fresh kettle corn, a balsa wood plane, and new strings for my banjo, with intermittent visits from M, his 6 year old and her friends, and Z. It was like we didn't own a baby farm. It was fantastic. That might have helped, but I'm feeling pretty zen like, folks. And I like it.

I hope you are too.

Off to pickle garlic scapes and make us enough pesto to last until next summer!

2010-07-08T14:00:00.000-07:00

Pond swimming and the documentation of mud volleyball ended with a deer fly bite that left my hand, four benadryl and 20 hours later, swollen like a catcher's mitt.

It's 30.5 degrees in our little home, for the third day in a row. As one of those people vehemently opposed to air conditioned homes, I am certain I am melting. The inlaws are visiting this weekend, from the coast which is a stranger to this sort of summer intensity. In laws who have spent the past week in a suburban home kept the steady temperature of your grocery store's dairy isle. I might cave and borrow a window unit, lest they never come back. I hear we've been promised a thunder storm; dear lord, it would be so welcomed.

Until then, this gorgeous garlic scape pesto, homemade yesterday, ice water, and the new love of my life, this old oscillating fan.

2010-06-28T06:08:00.000-07:00

A Monday morning of sleeping in, after an enormously busy weekend. An event with a booth next to a good friend; an entire day spent chatting, smiling, snacking. Spent meeting neigbours. Introducing strangers to the greatness that is scapes. Trying not to buy 16 ice cream cones from the organic dairy set up next to us. In love with the age demographic of so very many of the participants. It makes me proud of so much of this generation in this cute little town of ours.

Rain and birthday beers. Home just in time to collapse. Sunday spent.

Some work to do today, in order to visit said friend again to sell our jars at her pick up. Then four more days and we hop on a plane for a brief trip to FL for friends and a memorial for one of the most stunning men I've ever had the good fortune to meet. I wish it wasn't busy season, and that it wasn't to be so very hello&goodbye, but I am happy for it nonetheless.

Which reminds me, I have to figure out how to get to Buffalo from a weird place, at a weird hour. Learn about Philly for our layover. Pay my ticket. And get my camera sent to FL for me.

And enjoy this super creamy chai, and the cinnamon roll I had forgotten I'd made on Friday. Happy breakfast!

2010-06-19T16:51:00.000-07:00

Today I crawled out of bed at 5 am and hung out in our old barn, while a friend of our made us, and all our visitors, delicious crepes. On a table made of an old door, propped up on straw bales. At two pm, I promptly came home, had a shower, and crashed on a series of cushions in the sun on our porch.

Now, I'm drinking beer and making Chocolate Guinness cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. And looking forward to the contrast that is Sunday, after such a busy end of the week. Dear lord, sleeping in.
And: A photo of our bee girl listening to a frame. (Fun fact: Queens make a distinct noise when they're fighting. Two for one: bees buzz in A flat. We have the best bee girl ever.)

And now, frosting, and hunting down D & the crew at the pond for more beers + chocolate.

I live in a fairy tale.

2010-06-17T18:51:00.000-07:00

An evening spent organizing our barn with what has turned from a garage sale into a reasonably sized flea market, it seems. Tomorrow it will be the entire day (and evening); it's huge. My favourite part was when an antique dealer came by to scope it out, pre sale, and had his eye on every single thing that I had deemed awesome. D told me he tried to buy the pile that I had put aside for us. He made off with a chair that I dearly coveted, but the rest of it was protected, even though I missed D's calls, weeding the greenhouse, sans phone.

Maybe I should grow up to have a little antique shop? Oh?

And now, tea and brownie!
And then shower!
And then sleep! (Dear lord!)

2010-06-07T16:05:00.000-07:00

Sixteen people for dinner. Eight hours and bottles of good bourbon and tequila later, the last eight standing cram into our steam shower for sing-alongs, at four am. When I woke up this morning the tea lights I'd lit in the midst of it all still hadn't had time to burn out.

I am a wee bit in love with the happy randomness of this place we're building.

I am also in love with Havana. I can't stop looking at pictures of her. Holy nostalgia.

2010-06-03T14:13:00.001-07:00

Spent the day listening to heavy rain on this tin roof, in the company of an enormous to do list. Cinnamon toast, walnuts, and papaya for dinner, and an urge to run away this weekend that waxes and wains with great irregularity. Summer gets increasingly busy starting next weekend; it's the deadline we're up against.

I'm trying to move more slowly, less quietly, these days. I'm watching birds and weather. I'm trying to form new plans into unfamiliar contexts. I'm drinking dangerous quantities of hobo coffee with heavy cream. I think I'm, slowly, on my way somewhere.

I hope you are too.

2010-05-29T08:20:00.000-07:00

We picked up our first 3 (of 5) new nucs yesterday. Our first (un-babysat) bees! So exciting!
Also exciting: playing at the pond tonight for the first time this summer.
And: Two WWOOFers + a Katimaviker at the farm for the week.
The good- I think it's returned.
Happy Saturday!

2010-05-05T12:06:00.000-07:00

I've had at least four biscotti today. At 3 pm. With two hot drinks to dip them in. And a kiwi. A sure sign we need to deal with our broken fridge so we can keep more than small grocery runs at a time. Still having not replaced our car from my smashing of it, this makes food interesting.

They we're however, brought to us by a new friend, a trade for some straw for his garden. There's no beating friends bearing homemade food, really.

Today, in the warmest wind, spring cleaning. A bit of work stuff, to ward off the guilt. And a collection of 300 year old British recipes pulled out, in hopes of dandelion wine guidance. Perhaps some seeds for around our cabin planted, too? This is a farm, you know.

I hope it's as gorgeous where you are.

2010-05-04T13:19:00.000-07:00

I think I'm going to start existing on a diet of this gorgeous 10% yogurt and the honey our bees made last summer. Dear lord.

Today, in between work, a picnic-table lunch in the sun at our nearest diner, errands, and rainy cloud-speckled sky, I've begun to move us into an additional space above us in this little cabin. It seems to be strangely filling my much-repressed need to live in new spaces more often than we have been; it's a pleasant surprise. Plus, good god, all the light and fresh air up there. Sheesh. I can't help but be happy.

In other news: we have interns! Holy shit!

And, no more yogurt. Back to shifting. I hope you're well. I'm still here, I'm just (really, really, really) distracted.

2010-02-13T06:08:00.001-08:00

The way the day began, each, in slow, steady waves, with flocks of birds breaking the first silence, as though they knew how epic it all was. The density of scent and sound.
Oh, Havana, you're not even a full week past.

Into the shower, while D speeds away on the snowmobile to meet a potential intern at the farm.
Our home smells like pancakes.

2010-02-08T08:27:00.000-08:00

I am in love.

2010-01-08T16:14:00.001-08:00

A morning spent drinking Jamaican beer on a friend's gorgeous, old sailboat. Taking pictures with Holga. Watching D crack open a small fallen coconut with a hammer and happily helping him eat it. Soaking up sun after hearing all morning about the snow and cold gripping most of the continent. After a week of cold in the relative-South.

Driving, slowly, towards the Everglades, with no concrete plans. Ending up in Chocoloskee, watching the colour drain from the sky, listening to the loudness that is the wings-in-flight of enormous sea-birds. Trespassing a bit. Hoping in equal parts to, and not to, see an alligator. Or a big cat.

A nice hotel, for a steal "Located in Fabulous Mysterious EVERGLADES". A friendly desk clerk who tells D that, in his culture, left handed people are said to have a gift. An early night, in pajamas, in Southern Florida. Life is lovely.

Tomorrow, the better portion of the Everglades, then up to Jacksonville for one (two?) last night(s) before the long haul home. I am equal parts eager and feeling-insane-for-choosing-to-return-without-sturdy-cause, but it feels like time. We've been away from the farm for two weeks. And we'll be away for another week the end of January (which is so soon).

PS: Can you tell I'm not writing much in my paper journal these days? Ha. There you go, internet- I am no longer concise. Oops?

2010-01-05T17:37:00.001-08:00

NYE in Asheville, NC. A day spend winding through the Appalachians, clouds clinging to the hills as though they had been poured there. Local beer at the turn of the next year, after an evening spent exploring by foot this new town, blue moon overhead.

We've been in Florida for a few days now. In a friends little guest house, with palms and citrus outside our windows. We can walk to the sea. We saw our first armadillo. Shame it's so cold out there. Apparently we brought the weather with us. Still, we wake to blue skies and familiar faces. I'll take it.

2009-12-26T08:51:00.000-08:00

Family not seen for three months. Enormous dinner. Raining snow. Endless treats.
A new best friend named Holga.

Tonight: A local microbrewery in an old barn (if you knew where I grew up, you'd know how enormously wonderful this is) with my brother, sister-in-law, and friends.

Yay.

2009-12-18T13:52:00.001-08:00

Cozy, insanely delicious dinner and wine. Fantastic conversation. A long, warm, 2am drive home with someone else's well stocked iphone in my hands.
I love these time so, so much.

Today, up after four hours of sleep, I am tired. And unmotivated re: doing things that would help that, like making dinner. I must conjure up enough energy to pay bills and do the last of the (speedy-delivery) xmas shopping. And then I'm promptly curling up on this rug,
on these heated (heavenly) floors, with a book, and pajamas, and calling it a night.

Such motivation, this one.

2009-12-15T14:59:00.000-08:00

Two for one: I just washed pine pitch off my hands with Grand Marnier. I am officially the coolest person I know.

Now to make dinner and drink beer next to the fire in the barn. Yes, please.

2009-12-14T11:20:00.000-08:00

Dear life,
Come on.
Gah.
K.

2009-12-11T17:53:00.000-08:00

Today I find answers easily and write them in my journal for safe keeping. I celebrate small victories. By smearing thin cinnamon cookies with organic peanut butter, and smiling.

There is much snow all around our small house. I haven't lived in the woods since I was all of 18, and things like the true darkness of winter, or the beauty of such vast untouched snow keep appearing as though I've never seen them in my life. I am grateful for these re-discoveries.

This weekend I intend to honour them from the warmth of this space, lingering in pajamas for as long as possible, drinking copious amounts of spicy masala chai, not showering, curled up in front of the radiator with the following pieces of this week's library haul:
Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude
Naomi Wold's Promiscuities
Coupland's Generation A
& the Jaina Tattvartha Sutra
I am greatly excited by this.

Enjoy your weekend, folks.

2009-11-30T20:24:00.000-08:00

Tired and sleepless seems to be the order of the last few days. Tonight, however, it seems appropriately cozy. Wrapped in a quilt made by my great-aunt, an anthology of women's literature from the mid 80's on my lap, a jar of spicy tea balanced on the sofa next to me, I'm okay with these heavy, open eyes.

2009-11-17T05:10:00.000-08:00

The last canning run of the year today- I know, I'm bad, it's mid-November, but I needed a break; it's no good if there's no joy in it, and our tree didn't give enough pears this year anyway. And there is joy in it again, I'm actually excited to get started; that didn't exist a month ago.

I made the most delicious biscuits the other day: fresh sage, caramelized garlic, and yummy soft mozzerella; they make lovely breakfast.

Leonid meteor shower tonight. I'm excited to cozy up with wine and blankets on the porch.

2009-11-13T09:45:00.001-08:00

I don't want to speak too soon, but I think the energy might have finally shifted back to(wards) good.

Oh?

2009-10-26T13:56:00.000-07:00

I'm so getting sick. Which is awesome.

Actually awesome: my addiction to Bambu. (Malt and figs and acorns in a hot drink that finishes like coffee? Come on.)

I need sleep.

2009-10-24T05:27:00.000-07:00

I wish I had potatoes and tofu to make a big breakfast.

Things have been hard lately; I've never wanted to start so many things over in my entire life.
(I've never wanted to start anything over in my entire life, perhaps.)

Still, I have faith in the randomness of it all; things always fall in the places they fit.
That's how the universe works.

This will fall that way, too. It will come back.

2009-09-17T14:17:00.000-07:00

My brain hurts. This is, apparently, the postdrome. As it is, what better time to vow to touch the internet less? ibook detox here I come. I'll see you in week or two. Goodbye, poorly formed sentences. Hello, big bowl of seasonal vegetables & the enormous list of things I hope to accomplish sitting to my right (written on paper, of all things). Fancy that.

2009-09-13T19:20:00.000-07:00

Waiting for rice to cook, wrapped in a brand new quilt made by the hands of my brand new sister in law, listening to modern lullabies in French. Fall is outside- the air turns crisp by night and the leaves are bright. An antique cider press smuggled into the country with us tonight, for use during a season of potlucks at the pond.

Yes, please.

2009-09-05T12:36:00.000-07:00

The in laws are visiting and I've decided to make a quilt for my brother's wedding; it's this weekend. Some things never change.

2009-08-27T16:11:00.000-07:00

No words, just images.

2009-08-19T16:24:00.000-07:00

Drinking a yogurt, mango, honey smoothie and listening to Mountaineer while packing the Wednesday baskets. Snacking on purple carrots which lost their tops in the untangling. Visits by a giant puppy. A Bienenstich cake picked up at the farmers market by my German mother-in-law waits in the fridge for my stomach to handle sugar again.

There are insects sounding outside of every window in our house. The air is sweet and warm. My feet are filthy from being bare on the cement floor of the barn half the day. As the sun sinks the flowers outside our kitchen glow golden. Perhaps this shall just be a blog dedicated to reminding myself why I am so very lucky. And why, even when I'm stuck up inside my head, I should remember, and be grateful.

And now, I must go buy jars to pickle beans and beets into. And more yogurt. And other nice things, all edible. Photos again soon (I've replaced my lens).

2009-07-21T07:07:00.000-07:00

A wee bit too much wine last night, after time spent in the hot sun, freeing little plants from the shade and shared soil of weeds. I can still feel it at ten am. But with good friends. And fleeting moments. And things you can't trade.

Also: playing with cameras (is fun).

2009-07-17T06:42:00.000-07:00

This is the summer of avocados and coconuts. Two things that, by proximity, I should not be able to eat.

2009-07-07T19:56:00.001-07:00

Baking soda biscuits with feta, hot out of the oven at 11 pm. Crawling straight into bed with them.

Tomorrow and the next day, the second baskets, then home for the start of my brother's wedding festivities. When we return, we will have a roommate for the rest of the summer, a dear friend, back from BC.

2009-06-29T11:08:00.000-07:00

Things just fell through today. One after another. So, so quickly. But it's okay.

I'm trying to master the art of adjustment. Of needing less. And less. And less.

It's the best kind of exercise.

2009-06-22T19:22:00.000-07:00

Dinner at 10:30PM. It was too hot to eat.

I may have dropped my camera on brick floors whist drinking mojitos with leftover farmer's market mint this weekend. There may be fewer images until it's looked over and the lens is repaired. Maybe. For the record.

2009-06-20T06:44:00.000-07:00

So many good things in my half-awake head. Last night spent cutting wildflowers and making bouquets with drinks on the back step while the sun sunk low. Then baking cookies until 1 am. Both for the farmer's market that I'm headed to as soon as coffee is pressed.

I love this place. And this life. I am so lucky. And grateful. (And redundant.)

2009-06-17T22:12:00.000-07:00

I am reminded of how short, sudden, and beautiful life is. In equal parts. Oh, but that beauty..

2009-06-11T16:22:00.000-07:00

I adore this rain. And these end days of Spring + how near we are to the Solstice. I wish I could slow it down, these days of such good, good things.

2009-06-02T19:15:00.000-07:00

We've been building things. Of all sorts. Figurative and literal.

Today: I weeded baby carrots and peppers. I burnt my palm on a cast iron pan from the 50's. I watched the sun set. I type by candle light.

2009-06-01T17:18:00.000-07:00

Wine while homemade pizza bakes in the oven. Julie Doiron on the stereo. Legwarmers and sweaters pulled out of the back of drawers for the cold of this fog + rain. I crave BC through it all.

PS: how is it possibly June?
How does time so quietly move so fast?

2009-05-26T15:16:00.000-07:00

Hello! It's pretty out there. (Have you looked? Go look!)

Tonight, however, dinner should just appear. And a movie. And good things. Ice cream would help..

2009-05-25T19:43:00.000-07:00

The joy that is slowly filling a house with wild flowers. It smells amazing in here. It increases my happiness exponentially. Really. It's ridiculous.

PS: There's a new Wurlitzer in our living room. It's hideous and lovely at once. In all sorts of glorious pastel-keyed ways.

2009-05-14T05:52:00.000-07:00

Six hours spent playing around the greenhouse; I wish all chores could be so lovely. I wish the charm not to fade.

Today, rain. On our metal roof, it's perfect.

2009-05-11T20:18:00.000-07:00

That was the quickest weekend I've ever spent at home, and I've spent quick weekends at home.
I wish it could have drawn out.
I wish I could have eaten more frozen custard.
I adore my life.*

(*Note to self: Really. Even when you don't think you do, you do.)

2009-05-03T12:19:00.000-07:00

I adore quiet, slow Sundays. And berries, after a long winter without.

Next weekend we go home; I'm excited. It's been a long time. There should be a new lens waiting for me, as well, which doesn't hurt.

2009-05-02T18:13:00.000-07:00

An afternoon spent in Toronto, bouncing between galleries, strolling briskly, caught in the only rain of the day, eating delicious burritos, saying goodbye for another two months to one of our very favourite people; I wish she could remain.

Strawberries were on sale tonight. Gin wasn't, but it came home with us anyway. "I feel like an old man in really great clothes when I drink gin", I said to him in the parking lot.

I can't believe it's 9 o'clock. Or May second. How did we get here so quickly?

2009-04-30T13:49:00.000-07:00

Not far from here the earth is, briefly, red. This makes me happy. This headache makes me less so, but there is a lime in my water, a pen in my hand, and I am trying to ignore it and keep moving, however slowly that, today, may be.

The rain outside is lovely.

2009-04-27T05:24:00.000-07:00

I dreamt there was cake. Which clearly means I should make one. On this bright Monday morning, before a shower, or breakfast.

2009-04-25T07:16:00.000-07:00

Cinnamon toast on homemade bread and coffee strained through cheese cloth. He is off at a workshop on cold frames for the morning. I'm in pajamas; I intend to remain here, despite the brightening sun.

There may be a trip into the city tonight to meet up with old friends, one of whom we haven't seen in probably 9 months. And then, later, a bonfire to usher in this warmth.

Good morning.

2009-04-24T12:01:00.000-07:00

When I say that I feel lucky, it is not an exaggeration.

2009-04-15T10:44:00.000-07:00

The weather has been increasingly wonderful lately; that's still snow behind me, but I can hardly wait until it's warm enough to remain out here with beer, and books, and kitties. S is looking forward to it, too. For now, however, it's back to the (windy) fields to help frame out the greenhouse.

2009-04-13T18:44:00.000-07:00

It was a difficult weekend. There were good parts, reprieves, but when it's 2:1, I will say without reservation that I'm glad that it's Monday.

2009-04-06T16:27:00.000-07:00

The rate at which things seem to travel between inception and motion around here continues to surprise me. It's so ideal; the way you've stubbornly insisted since a child that it should be.
And here it is. However fleeting. So simple, so logical, so weightless. I'm very much okay with it.

2009-03-31T16:42:00.000-07:00

Last night we looked at the moon through a vintage telescope in our living room, one reprieve from a long day spent sick in bed. (Though, by the time D finished work, Vicky Christina Barcelona was rented, and we were splayed out in pajamas, I can't in good faith say that I minded so much.)

Now, birds are watched and identified in Audubon Guides. Plans have been made to go to an auction in the country this weekend; I'm excited.

2009-03-23T18:22:00.000-07:00

Nina Nastasia on the stereo. Fresh, fresh dinner built by D. Pajama pants and leg warmers, emerged from months spent in sealed boxes. Flyers put up in every post that will accept them. Fingers crossed that people will find them. Find us.

My sewing machine got its first exercise since late October, in the form of a small turtle for my niece's birthday. It's nice to have it back. And the space. And the colours. And a season of new everything.

2009-03-19T08:17:00.000-07:00

Home after four and a half months at sea. Deep breath.

2009-03-07T14:01:00.000-08:00

The old shack, built as a work project during the depression, has seen everything these seventy acres have had to share. Tonight it houses an old stove top and boils sap into syrup. 40 gallons collected for every gallon bottled. My fingers are crossed that it dips below freezing tonight; we have 25 new (old) taps to put in in the morning.

In the meantime: a drive at sunset, windows down.

2009-03-01T14:51:00.000-08:00

Collecting ice from the driveway with a hammer and pail to make homemade ice cream. Sharing the kitchen I grew up in with my husband, clad in flannel pajamas, baking chocolate chip cookies.

2009-02-21T14:50:00.000-08:00

Coffee and a cupcake at two pm. Cocooned in a blanket.