tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89973822585219730712024-02-07T16:28:47.427-08:00The Magic of Seasons and TeatimeUncovering the wonder of seasons, living simply, trying to get the most out of everything and enjoying a spot of tea on the sideChristianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.comBlogger83125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-13768588453964280612012-10-15T12:37:00.000-07:002012-10-15T12:37:46.541-07:00The HaircutSo, you know by now: I cut my hair...<br />
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It used to be long and illustrious, see Exhibits A and B. (I'm digging this exhibit thing lately.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi8fuRUNlyU0LcbtmjXga4OjtvXvlwkjggKAvLHIbUfoETDps0jXk7YzW_txKIZPQMuOmXshFFVDtTVfZXabWiBy1OWm_UAZ70IiumdD1cGPh93pDXeRSFzuZf1UcZqbAVSYABhwJdeQA/s1600/100_7140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi8fuRUNlyU0LcbtmjXga4OjtvXvlwkjggKAvLHIbUfoETDps0jXk7YzW_txKIZPQMuOmXshFFVDtTVfZXabWiBy1OWm_UAZ70IiumdD1cGPh93pDXeRSFzuZf1UcZqbAVSYABhwJdeQA/s400/100_7140.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exhibit A</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje3YaaOp_tvD3cbhW8gjrq_MmzhGdOpthxFRzK_BzRVRpKu47b_jGLYAk8O_01Q8tZ6eUa-EnLsdCKrRXf-ICyJBuE5RximwYkk7T6R0ypNSyPDLjAhAwn4p-IuUnOsJ1aZOHU93NKJA0/s1600/100_7141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje3YaaOp_tvD3cbhW8gjrq_MmzhGdOpthxFRzK_BzRVRpKu47b_jGLYAk8O_01Q8tZ6eUa-EnLsdCKrRXf-ICyJBuE5RximwYkk7T6R0ypNSyPDLjAhAwn4p-IuUnOsJ1aZOHU93NKJA0/s640/100_7141.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exhibit B</td></tr>
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<br />
Then I cut it.<br />
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Now it's short. <br />
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Any questions?Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-58852277005321584952012-10-12T12:56:00.003-07:002012-10-12T13:24:05.336-07:00Of things October<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This morning was on the dark and grey side, as so many of these days in October have been recently. I was settled on the couch, nursing and cuddling my adorable baby (see exhibit A). I helped myself to some chai and cornbread muffins smeared with homemade apple butter. The day seemed predictable, rain, cold and indoor chores.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRX6saO3CpN5H8EWtnxMcodcBlYKBh6SKz6t36-IPr6GC68HmdRUilXid5e6vzJNevyvizOkUKd1r8c31HSD_d2LzZ9EZxU0eBbdH5SHQpWKjvf7tpYn3wj4DRY-eJcFKNfzk3Ugdln7Y/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+070.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRX6saO3CpN5H8EWtnxMcodcBlYKBh6SKz6t36-IPr6GC68HmdRUilXid5e6vzJNevyvizOkUKd1r8c31HSD_d2LzZ9EZxU0eBbdH5SHQpWKjvf7tpYn3wj4DRY-eJcFKNfzk3Ugdln7Y/s640/AutumnEtc2012+070.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exhibit A</td></tr>
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Then.<br />
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This happened:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChPwUfVES1SZs1Qoz4YmHCzc8YPD8HRkjdePyAaigcL3tkvOtkSR-8VrOjRj6FCjAtjTQ3Kgh80078Dfs-fUyV2aWviIPtLAwU1weU6xequggLtM-HqnxVdZDGCh2MJ1xAF9cdS8vmpY/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChPwUfVES1SZs1Qoz4YmHCzc8YPD8HRkjdePyAaigcL3tkvOtkSR-8VrOjRj6FCjAtjTQ3Kgh80078Dfs-fUyV2aWviIPtLAwU1weU6xequggLtM-HqnxVdZDGCh2MJ1xAF9cdS8vmpY/s400/AutumnEtc2012+153.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Which drew us out of doors post-haste.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9iw72MJl2GOlnkeOmOOsSPHGjgeHs61XvzFV5Z3GMofBHJtrawpCytGb18ggmdR2aFFzfEWthvh5wSdv0_ghiSw8tAUhfkX7r77L1RA5H_58TSZmnM4y_bWTLv9nHypgzsJr_KJ1VPgo/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+154.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9iw72MJl2GOlnkeOmOOsSPHGjgeHs61XvzFV5Z3GMofBHJtrawpCytGb18ggmdR2aFFzfEWthvh5wSdv0_ghiSw8tAUhfkX7r77L1RA5H_58TSZmnM4y_bWTLv9nHypgzsJr_KJ1VPgo/s320/AutumnEtc2012+154.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Like being pregnant again, but this time, with a second head</td></tr>
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We enjoyed beautiful sights and colours and breathed deeply the crisp air with scents of spices and woodfires on the breeze.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK4S1ie_kxXnRrhtOdm2IvEXfoJI4j4wRSMfwHuvzEGmrkPOS7BqM8syLsC78Px44f-zhsocT_lmyjUxMnH6-OIEZuQux77ISytJnL1MqEd-oYMDfehyphenhyphenH1ncDhTucdOteXwa6MnZ_wPKM/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK4S1ie_kxXnRrhtOdm2IvEXfoJI4j4wRSMfwHuvzEGmrkPOS7BqM8syLsC78Px44f-zhsocT_lmyjUxMnH6-OIEZuQux77ISytJnL1MqEd-oYMDfehyphenhyphenH1ncDhTucdOteXwa6MnZ_wPKM/s400/AutumnEtc2012+149.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB9lnXymJw0Y3goashk2NB4kWz7Dg8_OBazDFULyIUkXMzrSE2lIvOOwalZwHdn9vGQudqBUC7JI_I-HGDeBUWS9aosp5cX7dcOkiPM9-7RVPfhyphenhyphenxHkkSERbCCsfpQHE1tWz_3h0guh-Y/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB9lnXymJw0Y3goashk2NB4kWz7Dg8_OBazDFULyIUkXMzrSE2lIvOOwalZwHdn9vGQudqBUC7JI_I-HGDeBUWS9aosp5cX7dcOkiPM9-7RVPfhyphenhyphenxHkkSERbCCsfpQHE1tWz_3h0guh-Y/s320/AutumnEtc2012+150.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Constance soon fell asleep, the lull of being walked up and down the street and the warmth of being wrapped close to her mama was an undeniable sleep inducer.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-lZ_b0EmjJKUYbON3J5UU_CDOP36wgpqtvgtaRwehMygXR7-JWY9xyAOt4K6s634v9lNtXrVHI_IqjvuA3jm6cUoUnEY6QMgRaja90S9vvbVwObqGr3WlRZP8defXCD2RwAwyY5sqh5E/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+152.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-lZ_b0EmjJKUYbON3J5UU_CDOP36wgpqtvgtaRwehMygXR7-JWY9xyAOt4K6s634v9lNtXrVHI_IqjvuA3jm6cUoUnEY6QMgRaja90S9vvbVwObqGr3WlRZP8defXCD2RwAwyY5sqh5E/s400/AutumnEtc2012+152.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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The beautiful day reminded me of just such beautiful, clear, cold days from the year past. And as in years past, at this time, when the world is cooling down and people are bundling up....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ7ScL7oE9SzIKNCfzET3zqfXpcGrXTRd89KtWROC4FT0FciQwUnd3lzY7Jt7iO0xzLsf3ZmP9fkcf2RKFtQAdf4mXv8mV90ZRZyzgttfaxW0hGp3xm0-CcMUbJLwiesn_veFYrKFT8kc/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ7ScL7oE9SzIKNCfzET3zqfXpcGrXTRd89KtWROC4FT0FciQwUnd3lzY7Jt7iO0xzLsf3ZmP9fkcf2RKFtQAdf4mXv8mV90ZRZyzgttfaxW0hGp3xm0-CcMUbJLwiesn_veFYrKFT8kc/s400/AutumnEtc2012+126.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUdhEznh0ocZdXS8Eup2ST_RXOmYMPpMNVo7_S8th9QdP5BqhT1UGY5nHC3QL765nLrHS2VseI_Amw_jzN7yITvIzFDj7JPUDuCvMuKgLEmZwQFCAz4CL416aJvapNCWj7eyyYv4eE8NA/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUdhEznh0ocZdXS8Eup2ST_RXOmYMPpMNVo7_S8th9QdP5BqhT1UGY5nHC3QL765nLrHS2VseI_Amw_jzN7yITvIzFDj7JPUDuCvMuKgLEmZwQFCAz4CL416aJvapNCWj7eyyYv4eE8NA/s320/AutumnEtc2012+133.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This time when apples and pumpkins are ubiquitous and holidays celebrating such things draw near and people get friendly...and throw parties...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeXeqkp2JvsX9Ae34GHuOw8Tb5VcgV4VanGd50sBictF9clEpF8lqcsynazpRSq7JnFAL41weOfreBRI9-t_9beM09gbs6VtxdrfYvwhQw2Bq9U5b0QgUHGntlDKUCle9gHC3oFAFLEdg/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeXeqkp2JvsX9Ae34GHuOw8Tb5VcgV4VanGd50sBictF9clEpF8lqcsynazpRSq7JnFAL41weOfreBRI9-t_9beM09gbs6VtxdrfYvwhQw2Bq9U5b0QgUHGntlDKUCle9gHC3oFAFLEdg/s320/AutumnEtc2012+155.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Well, this time of year is also the time of year where certain people.... the insane and masochistic type, like to write...and not just write, but I mean <i>write. </i>As in writing 50,000 words in one month, kind of write.<br />
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Yes.<br />
<br />
It is that time of year again. And it got me thinking....<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSYvtgZ68MAlycoEfYTuzmllC_zvtXkVQ-gBXulFQxNNXajyK3f5fGKbpBLyiPPc508WptSTbYAVsJXFjuT_NTXVgnwIFsVA71ZO2VghyP0iU2Eg_baT8ni_IYYHP0OedFbKWEruc1fq4/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+065.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSYvtgZ68MAlycoEfYTuzmllC_zvtXkVQ-gBXulFQxNNXajyK3f5fGKbpBLyiPPc508WptSTbYAVsJXFjuT_NTXVgnwIFsVA71ZO2VghyP0iU2Eg_baT8ni_IYYHP0OedFbKWEruc1fq4/s640/AutumnEtc2012+065.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exhibit B</td></tr>
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I should do it. <a href="http://themagicofseasonsandteatime.blogspot.com/2011/11http://themagicofseasonsandteatime.blogspot.com/2011/11/w-is-for-wednesday-wonderful-words-and.html">Again.</a> If you do not know what I am talking about, I will tell you:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvlEroHeEK5A_uAbDXLte_Zig0YPUdEpOZ6Bae6selegFm884hBPwt90tTCo0BgxTq5AQ-IhvfqnLKFGuGbtMKt3SJ608lbU0qFAEyqqpzDkj0JBM7EKl8mt3vJPIYpDrWsmmO8OROAyo/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvlEroHeEK5A_uAbDXLte_Zig0YPUdEpOZ6Bae6selegFm884hBPwt90tTCo0BgxTq5AQ-IhvfqnLKFGuGbtMKt3SJ608lbU0qFAEyqqpzDkj0JBM7EKl8mt3vJPIYpDrWsmmO8OROAyo/s400/AutumnEtc2012+047.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exhibit C</td></tr>
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November = National Novel Writing Month. Nanowrimo for short. (See <a href="http://nanowrimo.com/">Nanowrimo.com</a>). Which means October is crunch month. "Crunch month" = run around like a madman figuring out what story you want to write and wondering what you'll do with your life for the next couple weeks while you wait for 12:00am 11/1/2012. Well, maybe some people do. But I'm going to wing it this year....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqFYGPSoMmE_vs1K4c3LJnyBPiryCSrkty_ySvAfAqsK3wvD_65txbQNSKqxWYttnOjnWwWXScTjCOxBvc4Bfs5ESTbx6rBJ2LWadSBmNPji8GlBTHhVIHDOxIeAzd3twHHl_HeVmF5zQ/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqFYGPSoMmE_vs1K4c3LJnyBPiryCSrkty_ySvAfAqsK3wvD_65txbQNSKqxWYttnOjnWwWXScTjCOxBvc4Bfs5ESTbx6rBJ2LWadSBmNPji8GlBTHhVIHDOxIeAzd3twHHl_HeVmF5zQ/s400/AutumnEtc2012+118.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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See, I had originally thought I'd skip this year, because I have this great excuse. (See exhibit B and C) but that walk today, and the cool weather and the inspirational smells and sights...well I just can't! I can't bear to let November go by without joining the ranks of insane and attempting to write a novel in a month. It's just too much fun! Even when it's <a href="http://themagicofseasonsandteatime.blogspot.com/2011/11/never-give-up-or-how-nanowrimo-is-maybe.html">stressful and crazy</a>, because <a href="http://themagicofseasonsandteatime.blogspot.com/2011/11/novelling-update-or-how-much-i-love.html">it's awesome too.</a> And so, I'm dedicated. I'm going to go sign into Nanowrimo RIGHT NOW... Done. Check me out if you want, my Nano ID is EkkThe5ifth.<br />
<br />
So besides that, there's a lot of other exciting things. Things like beautiful babies and pumpkins....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi80-YWYFDeSwCZbJLNLmgsb2pDTsnXsah2jDXSH_MvKnvFSr6xEcsR-aYxYWrcsZp7llv5yLY93VFPD8voL4O7LcYvc3Zu8g7je3C2tzJSXL8T437sZ4Q5y5pAHp5wa-qyZEiTfn6mhWI/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+086.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi80-YWYFDeSwCZbJLNLmgsb2pDTsnXsah2jDXSH_MvKnvFSr6xEcsR-aYxYWrcsZp7llv5yLY93VFPD8voL4O7LcYvc3Zu8g7je3C2tzJSXL8T437sZ4Q5y5pAHp5wa-qyZEiTfn6mhWI/s320/AutumnEtc2012+086.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaO2dD3SmkmT4EB8zgsXU6M1t7qT5bQRDkfD1pGvfEy8cRh5KT3mXSjZsyXueOW1qY_zqja-3TbbeLGHF9rpNYYZDUjnA6QFRQhZw1_MAHDJqSLt-B2nGCZ5lGlb1CJGjrU16NWxastM8/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+095.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaO2dD3SmkmT4EB8zgsXU6M1t7qT5bQRDkfD1pGvfEy8cRh5KT3mXSjZsyXueOW1qY_zqja-3TbbeLGHF9rpNYYZDUjnA6QFRQhZw1_MAHDJqSLt-B2nGCZ5lGlb1CJGjrU16NWxastM8/s400/AutumnEtc2012+095.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
...and apples...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiycn2rKcvVCh_mPlOlKhApkk7IpxP90t4E8BmYgWMYjYBYhAeYLhhcdQzQFI1U_UigoJkrRL7AMyaRgEHsxPHiTEudiyChIGjiMfiPbuG2PoMcSqicIBgBalD9WogjvD7IiKOKR6Jz22I/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiycn2rKcvVCh_mPlOlKhApkk7IpxP90t4E8BmYgWMYjYBYhAeYLhhcdQzQFI1U_UigoJkrRL7AMyaRgEHsxPHiTEudiyChIGjiMfiPbuG2PoMcSqicIBgBalD9WogjvD7IiKOKR6Jz22I/s320/AutumnEtc2012+156.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
And apples.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhojFum-HuXrrgeJVzmzKGO1fm2vSrZy1zQ8CxaipXEr9tYqufvkT8wIKQmhGtKCzv7ZZmBp9t6uhtgh2lf1xmy4fG_Poopql3vYrbO8DPXlBVpZY_ZbVHMmu3xiZC-GfH7dEKHbypfeD8/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhojFum-HuXrrgeJVzmzKGO1fm2vSrZy1zQ8CxaipXEr9tYqufvkT8wIKQmhGtKCzv7ZZmBp9t6uhtgh2lf1xmy4fG_Poopql3vYrbO8DPXlBVpZY_ZbVHMmu3xiZC-GfH7dEKHbypfeD8/s320/AutumnEtc2012+157.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
And apples.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMSY01qZy2IbCJ2gVeZ5jtJOtzWeP0h4ecqeRlL4EzV9sMrBVQVJJG6GQEy1imEKqGoPWnNYFjTRCdxhCxlLbCHKgrO39PXwH0ItbEk80KyEiSiTtRWqcE98lW1w1fAeXks21R2NsCdh4/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+158.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMSY01qZy2IbCJ2gVeZ5jtJOtzWeP0h4ecqeRlL4EzV9sMrBVQVJJG6GQEy1imEKqGoPWnNYFjTRCdxhCxlLbCHKgrO39PXwH0ItbEk80KyEiSiTtRWqcE98lW1w1fAeXks21R2NsCdh4/s320/AutumnEtc2012+158.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
And apples....<br />
<br />
oh, did I mention apples? John has been picking up all the dropped apples he's been finding on his rounds at work. He drives around a lot and this IS apple season. So, since we've had quite the abundance I got busy and made:<br />
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Apple butter! NOMS.<br />
Which brings us back to the beginning where I was lounging around snuggling with my little button. And considering indoor chores. Of which I have many still to do.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMh6MofpZl8oT-Hpz581P7laSxI427Fy76HoJtpKFue6XhhbYGa9ZB1d4vH8rL6JtyApxAQResxPtEz7y7XJ-EP00wr9VBuMxM_7Tas-hpp2ls4xvye0kVQrWbGccDgUwCigMJKODJlNI/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+108.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMh6MofpZl8oT-Hpz581P7laSxI427Fy76HoJtpKFue6XhhbYGa9ZB1d4vH8rL6JtyApxAQResxPtEz7y7XJ-EP00wr9VBuMxM_7Tas-hpp2ls4xvye0kVQrWbGccDgUwCigMJKODJlNI/s400/AutumnEtc2012+108.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sporting mama-made autumnal headgear</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZDcF_EQr7fwlS_ahPVnU_gYNZ23-AnGnjhXxlqpjh7NY5ru-5EGKFfG1631Hvm11FHuZhAxEPq0lo7WB93pHrvsb5A3lJaXw3qruBfEVkG67ZtxtFx3PFsF7y-PVwqG8FGhTcWw0yF0c/s1600/AutumnEtc2012+105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZDcF_EQr7fwlS_ahPVnU_gYNZ23-AnGnjhXxlqpjh7NY5ru-5EGKFfG1631Hvm11FHuZhAxEPq0lo7WB93pHrvsb5A3lJaXw3qruBfEVkG67ZtxtFx3PFsF7y-PVwqG8FGhTcWw0yF0c/s320/AutumnEtc2012+105.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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the end</div>
Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-62169682205199262012-09-14T09:46:00.001-07:002012-10-12T13:20:07.954-07:00Constance FernMy baby is a little over five weeks old, now. She was born August 8, 2012 at 6:41 am. She weighed 6lb 4oz and was 18 inches long. Here's some long expected photos!<br />
<br />
Of the day she was born: <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkwPGOU9TQdzj4zB8xuGnlv6HT66IlKklyaPFRHT7bzHHredb0g9M81XGBJIH4RQRcR7qzi282bFlE7e299HymCHyVU9KJK9yRYWlkdAWCKeikdaomVvh10_wkQZaGRO8GAyhh0qUhHH4/s1600/PrimarilyConstance2012+026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkwPGOU9TQdzj4zB8xuGnlv6HT66IlKklyaPFRHT7bzHHredb0g9M81XGBJIH4RQRcR7qzi282bFlE7e299HymCHyVU9KJK9yRYWlkdAWCKeikdaomVvh10_wkQZaGRO8GAyhh0qUhHH4/s320/PrimarilyConstance2012+026.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpihgXK8cWSsTMOPLXQI-NYwXg88zzOBIN5gcWQZuEPQoQkP4JisILzHv31vQok_8DaGEs85O5zDauVqlFpmfcFFSK-gn-wdXIii7nL71M-pzvQf00Q_LbNj-CkU-1do7MUK1MyQCjrOM/s1600/PrimarilyConstance2012+018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpihgXK8cWSsTMOPLXQI-NYwXg88zzOBIN5gcWQZuEPQoQkP4JisILzHv31vQok_8DaGEs85O5zDauVqlFpmfcFFSK-gn-wdXIii7nL71M-pzvQf00Q_LbNj-CkU-1do7MUK1MyQCjrOM/s400/PrimarilyConstance2012+018.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC2XPRfSSizgzU5LHL4g-ySP4knP2pAVv0wvN58pP0AQXdcUlNNOOHkWlwAfq1Y74v70C1F8RTNjY35WMuGR8pASSjAifwS71_gpBaIDvdOcLOyeMjs0DLfpztxqdCxcrWdv0_ovNgV-s/s1600/PrimarilyConstance2012+036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC2XPRfSSizgzU5LHL4g-ySP4knP2pAVv0wvN58pP0AQXdcUlNNOOHkWlwAfq1Y74v70C1F8RTNjY35WMuGR8pASSjAifwS71_gpBaIDvdOcLOyeMjs0DLfpztxqdCxcrWdv0_ovNgV-s/s320/PrimarilyConstance2012+036.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
And the day after:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRAC_IBXXmwKio1S8aYEqgOeUewGYAqAXvjx25jxSU2bkJuhltdzZpInJd2xw5LTl36ygYr2PBw9UdUcLV_T0n0ZMswuTaglNE_1K4F79RmadBPkOHpyI821rhuqz3LpHR3efhBabPqww/s1600/PrimarilyConstance2012+037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRAC_IBXXmwKio1S8aYEqgOeUewGYAqAXvjx25jxSU2bkJuhltdzZpInJd2xw5LTl36ygYr2PBw9UdUcLV_T0n0ZMswuTaglNE_1K4F79RmadBPkOHpyI821rhuqz3LpHR3efhBabPqww/s320/PrimarilyConstance2012+037.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9tVywSzFgxHB7_Hsx9cZD622hJfsn8Jl7qa93XH46aHwJ1CT4YJ6lYvJ-4uOLZ7-qDyZxElkBRJmq8G0B2CNk9xmGjxTEuvpag7VPRq5_VFf-3D87bfau_Wi-bdYnxeNgHbMeF7kgynw/s1600/PrimarilyConstance2012+049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9tVywSzFgxHB7_Hsx9cZD622hJfsn8Jl7qa93XH46aHwJ1CT4YJ6lYvJ-4uOLZ7-qDyZxElkBRJmq8G0B2CNk9xmGjxTEuvpag7VPRq5_VFf-3D87bfau_Wi-bdYnxeNgHbMeF7kgynw/s400/PrimarilyConstance2012+049.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP4j359l_swP7PY9MBR9pr_qqdGfbLcXDalVUNzgwtyU3l-AHSVoAGcUao9ipNv7mPF6q8mfi6R41w0TfgqoniEIF2ulluhxSAYxZ2KtNgC5Jv6DPNbTREKhDGDKdkoQ4sis9oaUZ_pHU/s1600/PrimarilyConstance2012+052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP4j359l_swP7PY9MBR9pr_qqdGfbLcXDalVUNzgwtyU3l-AHSVoAGcUao9ipNv7mPF6q8mfi6R41w0TfgqoniEIF2ulluhxSAYxZ2KtNgC5Jv6DPNbTREKhDGDKdkoQ4sis9oaUZ_pHU/s320/PrimarilyConstance2012+052.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4j42-xSNQFe7rkYuCgxsQ4bN-rWmXzflRXSfuhjDnDERoQDXYNXW3xFussHUmHxV176XnFAe5QAKZKb_q0jOe4dnf4xno5F-SShBB0n_3EOGxxakNVa6sBjRG67o7K4SIfoq0UNvEfH8/s1600/PrimarilyConstance2012+055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4j42-xSNQFe7rkYuCgxsQ4bN-rWmXzflRXSfuhjDnDERoQDXYNXW3xFussHUmHxV176XnFAe5QAKZKb_q0jOe4dnf4xno5F-SShBB0n_3EOGxxakNVa6sBjRG67o7K4SIfoq0UNvEfH8/s640/PrimarilyConstance2012+055.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
And some memorable moments since:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEM08902KReN04MBfZhq-6g6v1PKjQIDTi8FIQMp783q4cnJV5P3dSrO0_jHufR5uKCHr0wPLmQZnEQ8H2UVguG9GGlUBql8D-axnWCObxHWHqfUys37bMD8WBVEUJGTIz6muZ2jTWUFI/s1600/PrimarilyConstance2012+075.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEM08902KReN04MBfZhq-6g6v1PKjQIDTi8FIQMp783q4cnJV5P3dSrO0_jHufR5uKCHr0wPLmQZnEQ8H2UVguG9GGlUBql8D-axnWCObxHWHqfUys37bMD8WBVEUJGTIz6muZ2jTWUFI/s320/PrimarilyConstance2012+075.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Her baptism at 4 days old. My dad, an OPC pastor did it while he was visiting.<br />
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Her papa reading her first novel, Watership Down by Richard Adams, aloud to her:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByQyxuk6fp25ncTpO5BWTM0YhrxpJg7DrQ2mpxhTKrb__LdMv4C-mj1ScWCcWLMMMWGLHbCP7-L7nmhd9AVc1feOrgFzdIwAdwG7Yg6bjP5BZEGFK1VXdsYAkIi7qoYfCL82Pg8g4W34/s1600/PrimarilyConstance2012+106.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByQyxuk6fp25ncTpO5BWTM0YhrxpJg7DrQ2mpxhTKrb__LdMv4C-mj1ScWCcWLMMMWGLHbCP7-L7nmhd9AVc1feOrgFzdIwAdwG7Yg6bjP5BZEGFK1VXdsYAkIi7qoYfCL82Pg8g4W34/s400/PrimarilyConstance2012+106.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Papa! what's going to happen to Hazel, Bigwig, Fiver and 3 or 4 of the others?"</td></tr>
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First day at the beach! On her papa's birthday. He was out surfing...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeNUkSY7yQ_sbeMS-s2iYhSDQrtIKmemE4K55dskr4rN7Vw2Ab13tAkwPI3ntzQ2RqXozM7CPIGgt-mAyH6olJP9xjrKGAONv38c8-RqR-l-QqZXb5fPT_hpkzqWJseKk-et3eFk7Sbc/s1600/PrimarilyConstance2012+149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeNUkSY7yQ_sbeMS-s2iYhSDQrtIKmemE4K55dskr4rN7Vw2Ab13tAkwPI3ntzQ2RqXozM7CPIGgt-mAyH6olJP9xjrKGAONv38c8-RqR-l-QqZXb5fPT_hpkzqWJseKk-et3eFk7Sbc/s320/PrimarilyConstance2012+149.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She can't wait to learn to surf, too</td></tr>
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And her first visit to The Lake house, where she went on a hike and had a dip in the lake!<br />
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Labor Day weekend<br />
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We also went to King Richard's Faire where she posed as a faery babe and I showed off my new short haircut!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzElPfT4tSOpibkjorPM1YNwCyDoQosx6kppqPYHB8EPRgp0To4qzT_xwasUzlYp0Eeddyymvk9-gw1tP0sc3c5yYmTKNGSgSBE0vPhRhBGtykLiAgXWcWtiPClYdoZvOVVpfMlR6yP2k/s1600/100_7198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzElPfT4tSOpibkjorPM1YNwCyDoQosx6kppqPYHB8EPRgp0To4qzT_xwasUzlYp0Eeddyymvk9-gw1tP0sc3c5yYmTKNGSgSBE0vPhRhBGtykLiAgXWcWtiPClYdoZvOVVpfMlR6yP2k/s400/100_7198.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matchin' outfits, yo</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The changeling</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The faery family</td></tr>
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More on the hair cut next time! I also want to write out my birth story on here. And maybe post a few more of the Medieval Fest pictures, because she was especially adorable in that outfit...<br />
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Meantime, this baby needs some sweet cuddles and maybe a walk on this fine day. Hope you enjoy the photos!Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-29360604231548957452012-08-02T10:11:00.002-07:002012-10-12T13:20:33.400-07:00A wedding cake!It's been, like, forever.... *ashamed-toe-in-dirt-expression* I know. *cough*<br />
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Anyway!<br />
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Remember that wedding cake I made in May? Here's a photo<br />
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I made that. Magical, yes?<br />
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Here's another:<br />
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I made two ten inch cakes besides the actual wedding cake so that at the party, people could enjoy cake and look at it too. Plus there were a lot of peeps at that party. It was a lot of cake. So, clearly, it was a very successful party. :)<br />
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Here's me.<br />
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Tada! A cake.<br />
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It took me like, a week! And a few weeks of planning and prep before that. Here's a few photos of production, if you're interested. (I know you are.)<br />
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Mix the flour and baking powders, salt, etc. Mix butter and sugar and eggs. Mix them together and add some buttermilk. Repeat like 12 times. Phew.<br />
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For the 32 cups of buttercream, I did this step a lot:<br />
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Eggwhites to fluffy clouds. I then stabilized them with sugar-water boiled to the hard candy stage.<br />
But before I could whip egg whites, I had to separate them from their yolky side-kicks...<br />
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yigh....It took like 4 dozen eggs!<br />
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And then- I added butter.<br />
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LOTS OF BUTTER<br />
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Like, a gajillion pounds of butter.<br />
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And homemade vanilla extract, measured in a heart tablespoon, for extra love:<br />
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The process made like, a gajillion cakes...<br />
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But it also made about the same number of dishes...<br />
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That's like, hardly a fraction of the dishes I ended up doing. Thankfully I baked the whole thing at my church's kitchen and had these ENORMOUS sinks to use. I could have bathed while I did the dishes, if I was so inclined....(I wasn't)<br />
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Then I crumb coated each and every layer.<br />
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<br />
Imagine this, times 10.<br />
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And then filling and stacking:<br />
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2 ten inch cakes 2 layers each, and then the wedding cake, each with two layers, a 12 inch tier, an 8 inch tier, a 6 inch tier....Do the math. That's a lot of cake.<br />
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And a lot of frosting and filling....<br />
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But it was made with love, and I had a helpful sister along!<br />
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She read to me and kept the tea coming. So I was able to pull through.<br />
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See that stove clock? It says 9:34. That's pm. We pulled some late nights on this project....<br />
<br />
The final step was assemblation. That's a real word you know...<br />
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Dowels keep it from collapsing into itself. Very important, despite not being edible...<br />
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And then, I frosted it!<br />
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<br />
And decorated it!<br />
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Have another look at that beauty. Really, just look and be inspired by awe and majesty.<br />
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<br />
And have some cake, it's on me.<br />
<br />
No really, I had a lot of cake on me by the end of the whole thing.<br />
<br />
It was really good. I ate a lot of it. And received lots of compliments. And ate lots of cake.<br />
The end<br />
<br />
P.s I'm 40 weeks pregnant and 2 days, now, and the contractions this morning amounted to nothing special. Just thought you might like to know. I'd post a picture, but my new camera is still being figured out...<br />
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p.p.s Georgia also took quite a few of these photos, but I'm not sure which ones. Give her credit, though.<br />
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p.p.p.s I'm now realizing how many times I used the word "like" in this post. Forgive me, but I kind of think it sounds good, so I'm not editing it.Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-15235586822476581482012-05-16T08:46:00.002-07:002012-05-16T08:48:50.475-07:00A newsy update and some pregnancy photosExciting things happening this summer!<br />
And it's not even summer yet. Well, not officially anyway. It's beginning to feel a lot like it here though.<br />
<br />
First off, my sister Georgia is coming to town. She'll be staying with us for awhile, about 6 weeks I think. It will be great to have her and have all kinds of adventures together. The best part, is I think it will really make these last couple months of pregnancy fly by. (That's a good thing right?)<br />
<br />
Speaking of pregnancy, here's a little update on that. For folks like my family who may actually be interested:<br />
I am (I think.) 29 weeks along. I think that's somewhere around seven months, but these days it's really hard to translate weeks into months and still know what the heck you're doing. Because 40 weeks is clearly LONGER than 9 months. And what baby comes on his due date anyway?<br />
<br />
Here's a pikch:<br />
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<br />
And quite possibly the thing I'm most psyched about! (Except of course, about Georgia coming, of course.)<br />
*drum roll* <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>I'm making a wedding cake!!! </b></span><br />
<br />
Are you as thrilled as I am? No? Oh well!<br />
<br />
Boy am I excited. I love making wedding cakes. It's such a glorious undertaking. It's just one of those amazing challenges that when you've accomplished the task you settle back and feel good.<br />
<br />
And eat cake. And receive a lot of compliments.<br />
<br />
And eat more cake.<br />
<br />
This will be my fourth wedding cake. And this time, it's not for me or for someone to whom I'm related, so I feel like I'm really advancing in this career! My average so far has been a wedding cake every two years. So as you can see, this "career" is really hurdling a long!<br />
<br />
Anyway, I feel my creativity bounding and springing in all sorts of new directions. Inspiration is flowing and the ideas are swarming. This most certainly will be my most amazing cake yet.<br />
<br />
Have I mentioned that I love cake?<br />
<br />
I also have some plans to learn to surf this summer. Ever seen a hugely pregnant lady on a surf board? Neither me, it should be funny. Though some might debate that I look "hugely pregnant." A lady told me I looked "a month pregnant" a couple days ago. Sheesh.<br />
<br />
A month ago I looked like this:<br />
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Eh, about the same I guess. <br />
<br />
That's about it. For the next few weeks I may not get around to posting simply because sisters and cakes are serious business. Plus it's summer and that's the time to be outside!<br />
<br />
I need to go practice some cake meditation.... "Nommmm" (said like om, get it?)<br />
<br />
Nevah mind....Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-82905780636872302102012-05-11T14:30:00.000-07:002012-05-11T14:40:00.263-07:00Getting stressed about eating healthy isn't healthyI'm in the middle of making sage cupcakes right now, so I'm hoping to keep this short. But this has been on my mind for a bit now and I think I'm really starting to grasp it.<br />
<br />
I'll start here: I love food. You may or may not have guessed this about me. Less goes onto this blog than I think goes on it, but I <i>think</i> about posting about food ALL the time.<br />
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I'll go on to say: I also like being healthy. I like feeling good and strong and energetic. And since what I eat affects my health more than anything else I do, I therefore like eating healthy.<br />
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But I like eating yummy too. And when healthy and yummy coincide, that's the ultimate bomb-diggity, I tell you.<br />
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There's a strange myth out there that healthy food isn't yummy food. But I guess it depends on how you define healthy food and I'm thinking that it's because people get <i>healthy food</i> mixed up with "health food." There's actually a BIG difference between the two.<br />
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Health food is soy protein, "candy" vitamins, wheat grass juice, spirulina* and cardboard "fiber" cereal that most people I've met have independently nick-named "twigs and stones." Yuck. Yes, I agree, health food is grody!<br />
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Healthy food, however. Ahh, the goodness... don't even get me started on this. Okay, too late.<br />
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Real butter, fresh fruit and vegetables, homemade whole wheat sourdough bread, homemade pierogies with homemade sauerkraut. Homemade mayonnaise, ketchup, pickles, oh oh oh. I want to go eat something.<br />
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You're seeing a theme here: homemade = good. And it's true.<br />
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Of course, just cause it's made at home doesn't actually <i>mean</i> its healthy, but it's no doubt <i>better</i> than not homemade counterparts. I will never claim that my homemade marshmallows are "healthy" but they certainly are yummier than the jet puffed kind... <br />
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And you see, this is generally my motivation when it comes to food. I love making good food at home with real ingredients and, since I don't add superfluous sugar, chemicals or food-colourings, I really thought I was doing well. I was happy and felt healthy due to all this good food.<br />
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But then I read the first 70 pages of Nourishing Traditions. And I'd recommend you do it too, but I warn you: <i>you will get freaked out. </i><br />
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My first feeling was fear, then despair. I thought I <i>had</i> been eating healthy.<br />
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But no, I hadn't been soaking my grains, the milk I was using to make my homemade yogurt was nasty and full of trouble, my eggs weren't free-range and therefore hardly beneficial and I may as well be inviting hardened arteries and many other deadly diseases into my home by buying canola oil. And the fact that I was using white sugar? Forget it.<br />
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Oh what, those vegetables you buy aren't organic? You are dead, sister, or as good as.<br />
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I was scared. I was depressed. I was in complete distress. I thought I had been doing everything right! I mean, yeah, we still ate sugary laden treats every now and then, but I generally reduced the sugar... That's not good enough? Any amount of white sugar in my diet is going to kill me, wow, I had no idea.<br />
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So then I started wildly making changes. I soaked my flours for bread, biscuits, muffins. If I couldn't figure out how to make it without soaking the flour first I <i>didn't make it.</i> And if I had a whim to make something but hadn't thought of soaking, or if I had forgotten? Well, it simply didn't happen. I also did my utmost to stop using sugar.<br />
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Unsweetened oatmeal? gag it down baby, it's healthy and I remembered to <i>soak</i> it the night before. Mushy, flat banana muffins. What? You don't like them? Well, too bad, they're healthy so EAT THEM.<br />
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My good, delicious and nurtured baking skills and cooking talents went bye-bye for a while as I attempted to make things HEALTHY.<br />
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John did not complain. (much) He did mention the banana muffins "weren't particularly good" and he added his own sugar to his oatmeal (much to my alarm.)<br />
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But when I started trying to convince him of all the more money we'd have to start spending so that our food would be healthy... Well, he laid down the law. (Sort of.)<br />
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I had to calm down. Yes, spending boatloads of money on "organic" produce did kind of seem like a gigantic leap. Since our decision to to start saving money to buy a house we've tightened our belts, so to speak, on spending. Not that we spent a lot before, but I had decided I'd try to keep our monthly food bills under $130 a month. Then suddenly, I wanted to buy raw milk, organic vegetables, free-range eggs. These things are considerably <i>more</i> pricy than what we normally bought. My own mind's voice of reason yelled at me to calm down, and John's calm voice of reason calmly told me to calm down.<br />
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I was getting stressed out and feeling bummed about my non-organic potatoes in my gnocchi and at breakfast, I was cringing as I ate battery-raised chicken eggs. But I was also gagging as I ate unsweetened oatmeal and I was <i>longing</i> for a rich chocolatey sugar laden BROWNIE. I had to think of my <i>health!</i><br />
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Then it occurred to me. What's the point of food if it doesn't taste good? Yeah, yeah, I'll choke down some wild-caught salmon if someone else is paying, but really? I don't <i>like</i> the taste of fish. But it's healthy, and if someone else is paying, then I'm gonna get me some omega-3s down, baby! But when <i>everything</i> is gross because it's "healthy"? Um, no. I can't do it.<br />
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After all, I had to think of my health. Enjoyment of food is so very important to me that, I'm much more willing to eat something that's a little sub-par of the perfect health food every now and then, if it's yummier.<br />
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So I never figured out how to soak flour and get a <i>good</i> cookie out of it. No way am I giving up cookies! Right, yes, <i>limit</i> cookies, yes, yes. But give up sugar all together? No.<br />
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So I've drawn the line. Some things are more delicious when it's healthier, like homemade bread being a trillion times tastier than store-bought bread. And when you add whole-wheaty goodness? Yes! Oh and sourdrough bread? My gosh, I'm drooling <i>and </i>it's way more nutritious than regular old bread. And I was in on sourdough <i>way</i> before Sally Fallon approved of it.<br />
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Raw milk? TOTALLY worth the price for it's goodness and it's entirely more yummy than pasteurized, homogenized milk. My husband agreed and we've made that step. But some times you really do just need a little bit of sugar in your porridge, and if I forgot to soak flour before dinner, well, the non-soaked biscuits ain't gonna kill me. And dang it, I'm going to enjoy this peanut-butter chocolate chip cookie even if it IS slowly killing me due to non-organic peanuts and the fact that chocolate has caffeine and it has WHITE death sugar in it.<br />
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Obviously, real butter is better than margarine because it <i>tastes</i> better. Also happens to be healthier. And olive oil really <i>does</i> taste better than canola, so even if it's a bit pricier, I'll switch to using it all the time instead of just when the taste will make a difference.<br />
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Plus, John is happier. And by default, I am too. A healthy marriage is also an important key to being healthy, you know?<br />
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And fermented foods are FANTASTIC and healthier. And guess what, Sally <i>Fallon</i>? I discovered and liked fermented foods <i>before</i> I read your book. So there. *raspberry*<br />
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Okay, but actually, her book does have valuable information and I say "read it if you dare." But pick and choose your battles, because you can't win them all. I've even read some things saying that a certain amount of phytates (what I'm trying to get rid of by soaking my flour) are actually beneficial. So whats up with that? And while I, personally, never drink soda and find it absolutely disgusting, I don't think I would go so far as to call it "the veritable drink of the devil" as she does. And I also prefer my cook books to let me choose my own flours and not "allow" unbleached white flour in certain recipes. You don't allow me anything, sister! I make my own choices.<br />
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I'm so empowered and free now. Now that I figured out that stressing out about eating healthy isn't healthy.<br />
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And now I'm going to finish making my sage cupcakes and I'm going to put brown butter frosting on top that's CHOCK FULL of SUGAR.<br />
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But don't worry, they're soaked and made with sourdough, so it's not too bad.<br />
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*<i>I actually like spirulina, but don't tell anyone.</i><br />
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<br />Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-8006167210644408602012-05-03T11:28:00.000-07:002012-05-03T11:28:28.146-07:00Things I love Thursday: Dandelions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJYcUJWXUDgM9RiGSmNH3VtN-Yu1xAT7By_v5z3ontLdbozsQF5BlJIgYPSBTomeqL_sLcdnFgEfK45mJgDISwzky7iR2D2AKT6EzjQkZusH5H4MBmW9rJw_3MbByJzmcyOe2Q4MAWmWc/s1600/100_3945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJYcUJWXUDgM9RiGSmNH3VtN-Yu1xAT7By_v5z3ontLdbozsQF5BlJIgYPSBTomeqL_sLcdnFgEfK45mJgDISwzky7iR2D2AKT6EzjQkZusH5H4MBmW9rJw_3MbByJzmcyOe2Q4MAWmWc/s320/100_3945.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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If you haven't figured it out by now, I love <a href="http://themagicofseasonsandteatime.blogspot.com/2011/05/dandelion-update.html">dandelions</a>. I <a href="http://themagicofseasonsandteatime.blogspot.com/2011/05/what-can-you-do-with-dandelion.html">eat them</a> and <a href="http://themagicofseasonsandteatime.blogspot.com/2011/05/what-else-can-you-do-with-dandelion.html">make them into things</a> on a regular basis. Okay, on a springly basis. They're also very lovely to look at. And when they become little puff balls? ZOMG are they fun. I will spread those seeds like nobody's business.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Make a wish!</td></tr>
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One thing we <i>always</i> do when dandelions come out is make wine of the petals. Mmm, by always I mean we have every year since we've lived in New Hampshire. (Dandelions don't really grow as abundantly in the lower parts of Florida).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxgzAgbuZUBGGhLQfQnKcmXJe0wJJeWJNoG1ofJ0M4dqUoDgGApOkC4frtu7Z3OGChYCOW4nLVvMFTZH695fqME3yZ38yMEMK0qSWSWQVzkwmlSnh2cSPXfajpmgGEIpCyNnxVMcfdCM8/s1600/100_4935.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxgzAgbuZUBGGhLQfQnKcmXJe0wJJeWJNoG1ofJ0M4dqUoDgGApOkC4frtu7Z3OGChYCOW4nLVvMFTZH695fqME3yZ38yMEMK0qSWSWQVzkwmlSnh2cSPXfajpmgGEIpCyNnxVMcfdCM8/s320/100_4935.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wine production of years past</td></tr>
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In the four years we've been making it, and in the couple years before John moved to FL that he made it, we haven't yet found a perfect recipe. Mostly because we never remembered what we did the year before. We've tried at least 4 different recipes now. This year we decided to really buckle down and figure this out. Wine takes too long to to be so nonchalant about throwing it together. And while dandelion wine is relatively simple and since the main ingredient free, it's not an expensive wine, it <i>does</i> take some work. After all, we have to pull all those tiny petals out of the bitter green calyx part. That takes <i>time</i>, baby!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEJZ6t9KTRM2PxmyxQ0VJGqKHmpInZ3dR7ts_31IhjhpSWgc67VtJlbVtlcZru4k7HknsQpBo0xKk95x0tkJKPU9RMnx5peoynIegRYPp33-0nz1thas1Oj6EJE4LsduyJrbD_fskpzjg/s1600/100_3948.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEJZ6t9KTRM2PxmyxQ0VJGqKHmpInZ3dR7ts_31IhjhpSWgc67VtJlbVtlcZru4k7HknsQpBo0xKk95x0tkJKPU9RMnx5peoynIegRYPp33-0nz1thas1Oj6EJE4LsduyJrbD_fskpzjg/s320/100_3948.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thems are some hot, manly hands... Oh! I mean, see what hard work that is?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note the addition of tea cups to the process...</td></tr>
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Especially when you consider how much of those petals you need. <br />
<br />This year, we made two separate batches, and I very carefully recorded all that we did for each one. One recipe called for six cups of dandelion petals, and one four cups. I'm pretty excited to taste and compare them.<br />
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But wine isn't all we make of dandelions. I've told you about pesto and fritters, which I repeated a few times again this year.<br />
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There's also dandelion petal ice cream. The heavenly, light creamy confection that one friend of mine declared "tastes happy." It's true. This ice cream is happiness infused.<br />
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Unfortunately, I can't find where I wrote down the recipe, but I can gather from these two photos that I infused the petals into the milk and then pureed it all together. If you're adventurous, try it out. Make it up as you go or follow a vanilla bean ice cream and adapt.<br />
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I think I may have strained it then, but I don't know. This one I haven't yet made this year because my freezer is currently too full to freeze the icecream maker bowl. If I do get a chance to make it, I'll post the recipe for sure.<br />
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You can also make a nice tea loaf out of the petals as I did one year.<br />
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I don't have the recipe I used way back then, but <a href="http://imperfectlydelicious.blogspot.com/2010/04/dandy.html">this one</a> looks very similar. Try it out and be delighted by making something from your yard!<br />
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Dandelion potato soup is also a nice treat. Just follow a recipe for potato spinach soup (or even just potato soup) and put dandelions in instead of spinach. Puree and enjoy.<br />
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(If you haven't caught on to this yet, I'm using up as many past photos as I can find in relation to this topic. I meant to post most of these as their own thing, but as as per <a href="http://themagicofseasonsandteatime.blogspot.com/2012/04/twenty-five-for-twenty-five-birthday.html">facts 4 and 5,</a> this never happened.)<br />
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Two new things I've tried this year are dandelion tincture (extract) and dandelion vinegar.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dandelion infused vodka, essentially</td></tr>
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Since I just started them a few weeks ago, and these things take a fair amount of time, I don't know how they turned out yet. But I'm excited. I may be able to add a lovely dandelion flavour to my desserts and dishes any time during the year!<br />
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So next time you think of trying to eradicate the dandelions in your yard, why not try eating them instead?Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-82897579837964394142012-05-02T15:03:00.002-07:002012-05-03T09:52:56.490-07:00Real milk<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
For my birthday John has given me raw milk. He said I can buy 6 gallons (over a period of time, not all at once, of course). I've already bought one.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The good stuff. </td></tr>
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I'm not sure he realized it cost 9 dollars a gallon when he pulled the arbitrary number of "six" out of his head. It seems a bit pricey for a birthday present....(Hey, we're cheap, what can I say?)</div>
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But after we bought it he seemed to think that 9 dollars every other week or so actually wasn't too pricey for something so good.</div>
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I think it tastes amazing. John thinks it tastes "basically the same" as store milk.</div>
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It comes from a farm about 55 miles from our town. That makes me happy! </div>
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And as soon as possible I made a batch of raw milk yogurt. Cream top and everything baby. YEAH. Take that Stonyfields. *angry face* (As a side note, I still haven't written to them, I need to get on that.)</div>
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Sally Fallon in Nourishing Traditions says not to heat the milk past 110 degrees when making yogurt from raw milk so you don't kill the enzymes. Last time I was at the store, I meant to buy a candy thermometer so I could keep track of such a thing, but I forgot.</div>
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So I decided I'd try using my regular human temp-taking thermometer. I washed it. Then I put it in my milk as it was warming up. When the temperature reached 109.3 I pulled the milk off the stove and put the thermometer down. It started beeping frantically, more loud and urgent than I had ever heard it before. </div>
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Poor thing. It probably thought I was about to spontaneously combust with the worst fever of all time. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Make yogurt, not fevers.</td></tr>
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But the yogurt turned out good.</div>
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<br /></div>Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-24446980198112518102012-04-27T13:07:00.000-07:002012-05-02T14:49:21.808-07:00The Garden: its history and future plansI love gardening.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7sDwNZIqTCkNsvAe4OLgzkqQojAb6Xlr2ybeNF4r8GuGhRZFmAZOF0T1kWbl6CB-ar_IJL4Gl7I-ldoPe5kgp4NV9w_zeo2CWHfY4PaIXV47nLaQP_dXqV_V45kyFalWuN26TMR23aIY/s1600/SmoresAndIvy+015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7sDwNZIqTCkNsvAe4OLgzkqQojAb6Xlr2ybeNF4r8GuGhRZFmAZOF0T1kWbl6CB-ar_IJL4Gl7I-ldoPe5kgp4NV9w_zeo2CWHfY4PaIXV47nLaQP_dXqV_V45kyFalWuN26TMR23aIY/s320/SmoresAndIvy+015.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Earthworms are awesome!</td></tr>
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I'm not sure if I'm good at it, but there's something wonderful about digging in the dirt, being warmed by the sunshine and getting fresh air. And if my plants grow, wonderful. If my own food comes as a result: SWEET.<br />
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My problem is that I've never had much of a chance at gardening. We live in an apartment that doesn't have a balcony, or even a front step. Our front door opens to a hallway. Blech. But I love plants. And being outside. And there's something about growing things that has drawn me in.<br />
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It started with mint. I wanted a pot of mint to keep on my windowsill and I'd water it and trim it and drink fresh mint tea any time I wanted.<br />
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Ah, another problem. Mint does <i>not</i> like pots. My mother-in-law says "You can't kill a mint." <i>Oh yeah?</i> I say, <i>well I have, TWICE. </i><br />
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The first spring we spent in our apartment, the associating apartment buildings had volunteers plant flowers in the beds around our buildings. People came out and beautified the lots of land around us with flowers and fresh mulch around the trees. But one little plot didn't get any attention. One right on the side of our building. It looked as if it had once had a couple trees or shrubs there, but they had been hacked down. Nothing but weeds and stray grass grew in this little patch.<br />
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So after a few months of watching it not be attended to, I decided <i>I</i> would use it. I took my third attempt at mint, already dying, down to the apartment yard. I pulled up a bunch of weeds and patchy grass so I had a clear area of dirt. I dug a hole and stuck my mint there. I poured water over it and walked away. I forgot about it. It was late autumn and I did not expect it to grow. I thought <i>maybe</i> something might happen in the spring, but I'd just have to wait to find out.<br />
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Then one day, the next spring, while walking passed, I saw it. It was flourishing! It may be possible to kill a mint, but bringing them back to life didn't seem too hard. I mean, when I had planted it, it had like two green leaves left on the stem. I was thrilled. In a few weeks more, I'd be harvesting my own mint regularly.<br />
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Ahem. Until the apartment association employed some landscapers to mow the lawn and whack the weeds and my poor little mint got whacked into oblivion.<br />
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Enter stones. In order to prevent such a thing from happening again, I gathered a bunch of smallish rocks to surround my plant. If it <i>looked</i> cared for and attended to, surely they would not attack it viciously with lawnscaping tools, right?<br />
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It worked! I was so pleased I planted oregano too, making sure to give it a rock boarder to protect it. And then I obtained some lemon balm and I planted that too. I had a regular little herb garden going. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC63i_fSD-1HlI-0UbOVSvco2s9Xo1rMJ4TNGlJ4mDZHQP8snFdfHGhGDt9Z_MXetx-tSs9nZT6ek54XwMJip5S_U_YaYeUKxIv_Ytv90JKUUDrIOvE20lxlcWdct0I9HS35DJFhTBs48/s1600/SmoresAndIvy+012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC63i_fSD-1HlI-0UbOVSvco2s9Xo1rMJ4TNGlJ4mDZHQP8snFdfHGhGDt9Z_MXetx-tSs9nZT6ek54XwMJip5S_U_YaYeUKxIv_Ytv90JKUUDrIOvE20lxlcWdct0I9HS35DJFhTBs48/s320/SmoresAndIvy+012.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As yet unattended to earlier this spring</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyP5EG6NLaLGv54Bb673aTNMleGp_7bGu2noabYSPHoEt1akJLI6H53kBjrDyFGnn7Kxw-JGqAp7Ll2914GJwaTw9ruzXB-sa42tMciaJhGW9ddcgQziVbW6PBa0ouICvYO5f6__rQNnM/s1600/BirthdayphotosSpring2012+049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyP5EG6NLaLGv54Bb673aTNMleGp_7bGu2noabYSPHoEt1akJLI6H53kBjrDyFGnn7Kxw-JGqAp7Ll2914GJwaTw9ruzXB-sa42tMciaJhGW9ddcgQziVbW6PBa0ouICvYO5f6__rQNnM/s320/BirthdayphotosSpring2012+049.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cleaned up and ready for planting</td></tr>
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My friend gave me some of her proliferating violet plants too, so now I have three little violet patches blooming. I was a little nervous at first, planting that first mint, that someone
would come along and ask me what I was doing. I wondered if I'd get in
trouble. But successive months passed and no one has said a peep. I haven't even seen any general notices put up in our hallways about "unauthorized planting in apartment yards."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzL-yL2OFzfYAubI_36Zy1pYj9l9sRBTY6JTi9KOg0Z9AvVuS24-MQ4k8h1JJmEuWrvYoam21lIuJEeXNRJ4By4M9PWQp1ektmT1Fb9VRJ1RQRH8wU-dwaldxxFdRq6vDhvxXlFvLW-d4/s1600/BirthdayphotosSpring2012+045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzL-yL2OFzfYAubI_36Zy1pYj9l9sRBTY6JTi9KOg0Z9AvVuS24-MQ4k8h1JJmEuWrvYoam21lIuJEeXNRJ4By4M9PWQp1ektmT1Fb9VRJ1RQRH8wU-dwaldxxFdRq6vDhvxXlFvLW-d4/s320/BirthdayphotosSpring2012+045.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sadly, my violets are white</td></tr>
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So, since my third year living here and growing invasive herbs has proven quite safe, I've decided to expand. It's still early and most vegetables (that I have access to, at least) won't grow until warmer weather, but I have some big plans. Tomatoes, peppers, squash!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCKEq-jZE3DH4Nqe8E3iJe18M0A1mpeYUoqowjnl1aSHKBaed-gxJ3lsOYikrBe3lcJsNes0IkDBN16-ttVmliT1WDFou8NkkHcm4vDC97rlVeR075PfbwO4yQsD4Pt3vfzcPSgy90JY/s1600/SmoresAndIvy+018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCKEq-jZE3DH4Nqe8E3iJe18M0A1mpeYUoqowjnl1aSHKBaed-gxJ3lsOYikrBe3lcJsNes0IkDBN16-ttVmliT1WDFou8NkkHcm4vDC97rlVeR075PfbwO4yQsD4Pt3vfzcPSgy90JY/s320/SmoresAndIvy+018.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saved tomato seeds, not guts. On the right are pepper seeds</td></tr>
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Okay, that's all. It's a small plot, remember?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVn55OrxQVueQOSlJjXx-RE2lLNcWbVZEKjd4cYYBfCov0Q2aA41k718SQX7JupQvoO9-MR8rM3cCIoNhHMwwY_Ur9uJSjaLrRVNVy2Xfd-ybJ3Aq36HDzw4GPvMIui8trIZbW2G8vrG0/s1600/SmoresAndIvy+020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVn55OrxQVueQOSlJjXx-RE2lLNcWbVZEKjd4cYYBfCov0Q2aA41k718SQX7JupQvoO9-MR8rM3cCIoNhHMwwY_Ur9uJSjaLrRVNVy2Xfd-ybJ3Aq36HDzw4GPvMIui8trIZbW2G8vrG0/s320/SmoresAndIvy+020.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Planted in egg shells, how clever</td></tr>
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So far, the tomatoes, sprouted from seeds are doing all right. The peppers haven't peeked yet, and it's been almost a month since I planted them. They may not make a show. This is what you get from store-bought vegetable seeds, I guess. Who knows if the tomatoes will actually bear fruit. They're from a Mexican hothouse and not organically grown, and quite possibly irradiated. And I ate that. gross.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMZDbBwPeLVjFdTmdA16ScW8mKsBmQhJQWWZVpCK6ziGAXcrGKc2tOnu0Vs0cA4dy3cLrWqFtgC48B1LAk8DmDrwVkffgWB7M5DSDSJsTxM3DSKWKxgj1tG0eEu5n6D3TYHwORondTpfA/s1600/BirthdayphotosSpring2012+004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMZDbBwPeLVjFdTmdA16ScW8mKsBmQhJQWWZVpCK6ziGAXcrGKc2tOnu0Vs0cA4dy3cLrWqFtgC48B1LAk8DmDrwVkffgWB7M5DSDSJsTxM3DSKWKxgj1tG0eEu5n6D3TYHwORondTpfA/s320/BirthdayphotosSpring2012+004.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Go little tomato plants, go!</td></tr>
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Here's hoping for fresh tomatoes this summer. If anything I know I'll have plenty of mint and oregano.<br />
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I'm hoping that I can use these apartment years to try my hand at gardening on a small scale, when I haven't put a lot into it and I don't have much to lose. Then maybe, if (when) I have a house with a big yard, I can have have a huge garden. I can feel okay buying seeds or little plants to put in and grow my own produce.<br />
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I keep thinking "be faithful in the small things." So that's just what I'll do. And when I have a chance, I know I'll be faithful in big things too.<br />
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I may even convince John that we can buy a cow! <span style="font-size: xx-small;">Maybe.</span><br />
<br />Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-54480086057527390732012-04-23T12:59:00.002-07:002012-04-23T16:28:29.576-07:00Twenty five for twenty five, a birthday postApril 21st was my birthday. I turned 25 this year. I'm wicked excited to reach this number. Finally, a grown up sounding age!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt_a6Ra4SSbm7Vm35079uDsxGSU8ViljPDQvELfVzquptqeBQwfBkc23FhQ07ezJ_lxuufYOA0plwVzlpBPhh7SiMJufA4BcAvXxA4Y5iPA81-rK0zs-husyZZ_u57W81w7f0zbytjOX4/s1600/BirthdayphotosSpring2012+012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt_a6Ra4SSbm7Vm35079uDsxGSU8ViljPDQvELfVzquptqeBQwfBkc23FhQ07ezJ_lxuufYOA0plwVzlpBPhh7SiMJufA4BcAvXxA4Y5iPA81-rK0zs-husyZZ_u57W81w7f0zbytjOX4/s400/BirthdayphotosSpring2012+012.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying sunshine and flowers on my 25th birthday</td></tr>
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There's a lot of preconceptions about age. Some people reach a milestone like...25 or 30, or 40, and groan (I've even heard a few lame-o's groan at 22 or 23, like that's "old" or something.). They worry and fret about "growing old." Not me, I love it. Every year God gives me on this earth is a blessing. Every full rotation I make around the sun is an achievement. Another year to learn, grow, experience.<br />
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But I'm still kind of surprised by my age. I think back to when I was just a sprout, eleven or twelve, when I met people who were "twenty five" they were <i>so</i> grown up. I know that when kids meet me, when they call me "Mrs." (To which I still haven't gotten the hang of responding) I know they see me as an adult. I am <i>so</i> grown up to them. I'm married. I'm pregnant. I live on my own in state far away from my family. Even teenagers probably view me as a full fledged adult.<br />
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So why do I still feel so...Young? I thought I would know a lot more at twenty-five. Maybe even be a different person all together. But I'm still me. I still have the same experiences and memories I had at 18, just a few more now. And the few more aren't enough to make me feel "Grown up."<br />
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Is it always like this? Every year? I thought I'd feel grown up at 22, honestly. When it didn't happen, nor the years after, it's starting to make me think... Maybe I'll always feel sort of "young" and inexperienced. Maybe I'll always just be Me, but with a new number attached. <br />
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I kinda like it.<br />
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But enough of philosophical rambles! Let's celebrate!<br />
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Because I love lists and I'm incredibly vain, here's 25 facts about me. (I remember thinking of doing this when it was floating around Facebook, but since I cringe at doing what everyone else is doing I refrained. Now I'll give in to that desire because after all, it <i>is</i> my birthday).<br />
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1. Purple is my favourite colour. Followed closely by green and then orange. I love these colours separately and paired. I wear them when I can, but purple tends to make me look pale. According to quite a few people, I look really good in orange and green though.<br />
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2. I think about what I'm going to wear often. Picking out unusual clothing combinations is my favourite. I love breaking "fashion" rules; mismatching my earrings, mixing patterns, skirts over pants, contrasting colours. I <i>love</i> when people tell me I have an interesting style. I probably seek this type of attention more often than is good for me.<br />
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3. I think about food even more than I think about clothes. Food blogs are my most frequent time-consumers. I love cooking, for myself because I LOVE food, but also for other people. I crave people's compliments on my food. I like making interesting and different food. I enjoy pairing unusual flavors in desserts. Like rose cupcakes with sea salt and black pepper frosting. Or lavender chocolate scones, or dandelion icecream.<br />
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4. I imagine posting to this blog 100 times more often than it actually happens. You'd <i>know</i> all these facts by now if I actually posted some of the stuff I think of or plan to post.<br />
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5. I have several albums worth of photos that I took specifically for use on this blog, that have never been seen by human eyes. (Uhm, except mine.)<br />
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6. I don't use shampoo. No, I don't use baking soda either (though I used to.) No, my hair isn't disgusting. In fact, its more perfect, beautiful and shiny than it's ever been. I used to have a major greasy hair problem. No longer! (Should I do a post on this?)<br />
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7. I make my own deodorant. It's very effective, too.<br />
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8. I make my own laundry detergent.<br />
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9. I make my own mayonnaise (and ketchup and sauerkraut too, now!)<br />
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10. I make my own bread, and have done so for more than 3 years.<br />
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11. I make my own clothes frequently. Usually refashioned out of some premade thrifted garment. And except for a swimsuit, I haven't bought a new item of clothing in more than five years.<br />
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12. If it occurs to me that I can make something from scratch, instead of
buying it, I will not rest until I figure out how. Then I decide if it
was worth the time, effort or cost of base ingredients to continue doing
so. In the case of the above, it most certainly has been. Sometimes its
not, like home made tortillas, those things are hard work, man!<br />
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13. I hate consumerism. Can you tell?<br />
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14. In every pattern, print, blob, wrinkly curtain or bedspread, ceiling design, grains of wood, bundle of sticks or leafy bush there is a picture, a face, a figure. I will find it, I will find multiple ones. I will look at it from different angles to see how it changes. I will imagine stories about this animal or person. I will draw them. They will become mine. *cackle*<br />
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15. I want a house with a huge plot of land. I want to plant an herb garden just outside my kitchen door, and a vegetable garden in the back yard. I want lots of chickens that I can move around in a little chicken train to fertilize land as I need and eat their scrumptious healthy eggs. I want goats and cows and to drink their good milk and make cheese and yogurt every day. I want bees and orchards and berry patches. I want to be as self-sustained in my little farm as much as possible. My own homestead kingdom. This is quite possibly my number one desire in life. It is, no doubt, an idol that I should cast aside so I can focus on God again.<br />
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16. If I could choose any time period to visit, it would be early colonial America. Back when Americans were hardcore, rugged and awesome.<br />
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17. If I don't go outside in a day, especially if the weather is sunny and breezy, I get seriously depressed.<br />
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18. I'm a researcher and a looker-up-er. If I plan to embark on something I thoroughly search out all the facts, read the guides and pore through the information. Sometimes I'll do this multiple times before I do or decide.<br />
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19. The above fact is probably why I have such strong convictions about what I believe.<br />
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20. But it doesn't necessarily mean I'll follow the rules, (directions, recipe, or whatever.) In fact, I'm very bad at following directions, even if I've read them over a few times. I pretty much can't follow a recipe without changing at least one or two things, if not more.<br />
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21. I have 8 siblings; six sisters and two brothers. I'm number four. I enjoyed baby sitting. (No, really, I did.)<br />
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22. I was homebirthed, breastfed, homeschooled and catechized. I plan to do the same with my children.<br />
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23. I'm very passionate about foraging and herbalism, though I'm still quite an amateur in the area. I would love to advance in my foraging so well that I can live off the land without planting a seed. Except I would plant a lot of seeds if I had room to. (see fact 15)<br />
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24. My husband, John, is my best friend. I love him more than anyone in the world. I can't imagine a more amazing man to spend my life with.<br />
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25. I can't imagine a life more beautiful than the one I currently have. (With the exception of my life added to fact 15.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRDGgkxuUjOvL0P4quuXO4maQrTRXFNHfvP50HXVQiyzh4yCBW5uEoefsvwdv6_KPfr7MIgYiEPPUTMbQwBt7w__Sn0BboEn7NGZ4UZsEYTcTHotNKL5sTqcqoh6xRnm2mBEwwK0bWAsI/s1600/BirthdayphotosSpring2012+013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRDGgkxuUjOvL0P4quuXO4maQrTRXFNHfvP50HXVQiyzh4yCBW5uEoefsvwdv6_KPfr7MIgYiEPPUTMbQwBt7w__Sn0BboEn7NGZ4UZsEYTcTHotNKL5sTqcqoh6xRnm2mBEwwK0bWAsI/s400/BirthdayphotosSpring2012+013.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-61225586940643928552012-04-19T08:37:00.003-07:002012-04-19T08:47:58.364-07:00Things I love Thursday: My cast iron cookware.<i>I'm going to try out this Things I love Thursday thing for a while and see if it makes posting on Thursdays an easy task. I'm on my own in this, as in I'm not joining some other blog co-op with it, since it was just a random idea I came up with. Though, I don't think I made it up, there's probably tons of other bloggers doing the same thing out there. I just love alliteration, really. You probably know that by now.</i><br />
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<i>This could probably be more appropriately called "Things I really like Thursday" but it doesn't quite have the same ring. </i><br />
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This week I want to tell you about my cast iron pots and pans. Why? Because I love them.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgygzSbLFOunphTLdmRUW277Q7Nf-8TQCfmynFheQh2IMDpMRgNhJUo0hVn4w3O7tQFJoJIkM3gvUliCgZpGM0KA9lQaP6owN5C6j9h8Awl4x2RmzL_FUZpDi1-F2YaiO9Cb4mNlxzbi_g/s1600/CastIron,Belly,Breadpuddingetc+038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgygzSbLFOunphTLdmRUW277Q7Nf-8TQCfmynFheQh2IMDpMRgNhJUo0hVn4w3O7tQFJoJIkM3gvUliCgZpGM0KA9lQaP6owN5C6j9h8Awl4x2RmzL_FUZpDi1-F2YaiO9Cb4mNlxzbi_g/s400/CastIron,Belly,Breadpuddingetc+038.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In my sunny living room for a photo shoot</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Why do I love them? Ah, let me count the ways...or tell you the reasons.<br />
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</b><br />
<b>I get amazing results when it comes to food quality.</b> Cast irons are fabulous for browning meats, sauteing vegetables or making sauces. I can make the most delicious home fries and hash browns with my pan. They hold heat like nobody's business and keep your food hot while you wait for your husband to wrap up his projects and come to dinner. And food cooked in cast iron pots and pans just tastes better. It has some magical taste properties that it adds to each dish, making it yummier than food cooked in a regular pan. <br />
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<b>It's indestructible</b>. You can use metal spatulas, knives, spoons, forks, you name it on these guys. All those tools that if you even hover one above a non-stick tefflon pan, wears and scratches the surface before your very eyes. I've scratched up the seasoning of my cast iron frying pan tons of times. All it needs is a little swipe of oil and some time in the oven and it's back to its good as new self.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The best set of pans a girl could wish for</td></tr>
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<b>It's non-stick</b>. Who needs that tefflon crap? I don't even know if I'm spelling it right, but I started my married life with a full set of pots and pans in that tefflon-coated line and <i>all</i> of them are scratched to death. Some have been thrown away in their unusable-ness. (Turns out, they don't withstand oil fires very well, either.) My cast irons, have been with me for about 3 years now. I got them all used or free, (with the exception of our wok, which I bought for John as a Christmas present.)<br />
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I've brought them camping and I've set them on fire, put them in the oven; I've used them as hammers and pounders, you can even use them as a weapon like the girl from Tangled does. I loved that!<br />
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This is reverting to the indestructable thing again. Where was I?<br />
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Ah, non-stick. So long as you keep them in good shape (and trust me, it's not hard) these things will release your eggs, crepes, etc. perfectly every time.<br />
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Which leads me to the fact that<b> they are very easy to take care of</b>. I'm lazy. I frequently go days without washing my pans, even when they really should have. It's easier when you do it right away, but even if you slack off, it's not too bad. You can take comfort in the fact that while you might take off some of your seasoned coat while you scrub with all your might, you'll still have a pan when you're done. And you can always put a new coat on.<br />
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Part of the ease in caring for cast iron is that it doesn't need soap. Just hot water and a good scrub. Then I dry it on the stove and wipe it down with an oiled rag. Good as new for the next go. And if you make sure to wash it right after your done using it then it hardly even <i>needs</i> a scrub, more like a swish. <br />
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Even when you get your pot super old, dusty, rusty and worn it's still good!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSp7XUdnahBxfdNKjXogXLXRZuB2M2yiLS0SL2G244WEGuABp2JD85SBZBZKyjRopfJKwiA9l5wxWPfVzDh8578LFmMa6dGs1hTasxpcYuTO2GSPMWvPeT6ODcM-0J6Lb6EwFZ2pIZUcg/s1600/DandelionWine-Sunnyday-patchwork2011+145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSp7XUdnahBxfdNKjXogXLXRZuB2M2yiLS0SL2G244WEGuABp2JD85SBZBZKyjRopfJKwiA9l5wxWPfVzDh8578LFmMa6dGs1hTasxpcYuTO2GSPMWvPeT6ODcM-0J6Lb6EwFZ2pIZUcg/s320/DandelionWine-Sunnyday-patchwork2011+145.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>See?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkSs3t7XOMZEz8ngnje4H7q41PKmy6tL-nOJF5BfUhZ6W0KqwUD-DDDVOi5knH1nLYpc0DKEhoVK7iHZfjXGiNb2l5naWDjHh-fEzy1-wLI_-zQ4fAYppEajKCOTysY3FSv-HdMNm5uh4/s1600/CastIron,Belly,Breadpuddingetc+033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkSs3t7XOMZEz8ngnje4H7q41PKmy6tL-nOJF5BfUhZ6W0KqwUD-DDDVOi5knH1nLYpc0DKEhoVK7iHZfjXGiNb2l5naWDjHh-fEzy1-wLI_-zQ4fAYppEajKCOTysY3FSv-HdMNm5uh4/s320/CastIron,Belly,Breadpuddingetc+033.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Good as new. Not bad for a free pot.<br />
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<b>Cast iron also keeps you strong</b>. When your frying pan weighs five pounds, you get a work out even when you cook! Carrying an eight pound wok FULL of food to the table builds your muscles big time. Add to that the fact that cast iron actually imparts some iron to your food every time you cook with it. Iron is a very necessary mineral to keep your blood working. Lack of it can lead to anemia and fatigue. Despite the fact that I rarely eat red meat I've been told multiple times that my blood's iron levels are absolutely fantastic. This is to the girl who was once diagnosed as "slightly anemic." Actually, that iron thing might be the reason behind why food cooked in cast iron tastes so good...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wondrous weighty workable wok</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>When I was reading Nourishing Traditions, the author mentioned that "non-organic" iron was bad for the body. Which made me worried for a little bit that she didn't approve of cast iron cook ware. But then in the "recommended equipment" section she lists cast iron pots and pans as a great alternative to aluminum or non-stick cookware. So no need to worry! <b>It's Sally Fallon Approved</b>!<br />
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If you're interested in cast iron, ask around or check out some thrift stores. I've found that people frequently have them laying about and are willing to part with them because they fail to see the value, <i>or</i> like my mother in law, they simply collect them because they can't get <i>over</i> the value. Even if you end up buying one new, you can be sure that it's a great investment. I mean<b> they'll last you forever</b>, your great grandkids might end up using them.<br />
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I've grabbed up a few cool cast iron pans that I don't even <i>know</i> what to do with. Like this heart pan.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Too bad I hate Valentine's day</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Cute, yeah? It was a dollar at our thrift store and even though I don't see my self using it often, it still makes a nice country kitchen kind of decoration. (You know, for when I have a country kitchen.)<br />
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Here's a link to a good guide on <a href="http://www.keeperofthehome.org/2010/11/my-simple-cast-iron-care-routine.html">seasoning and general care</a>. This is more or less how I do it, but if you look around you'll find everyone has their own little quirks; some people suggest a tiny bit of soap, others cringe at the thought. Some people won't even use water, preferring to burn off food matter. Some people are picky about what kind of oil they wipe in their pans. Do what works for you.Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-25705062296524554162012-04-18T09:14:00.002-07:002012-04-18T09:19:00.912-07:00Sally Fallon is making me paranoid: a milk rant.About two weeks ago, I used our inter-library loan system to check out Nourishing Traditions by Sally Fallon. I had heard the book mentioned a few times by bloggers I liked so I thought I'd take a look. I figured it probably had a great selection of fermented food recipes and maybe some other interesting stuff.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scary but fascinating</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
What I did not expect was to be scared out of my whits concerning nearly everything I eat on a regular basis. And we eat fairly healthy compared to the standard American diet. I make my own bread and every baked item we eat. I use whole wheat flour the majority of the time. I'm always reducing sugar in recipes if I can get away with it.<br />
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When shopping, I read labels and ingredients carefully. If a food item has more than ONE ingredient, I scrutinize it closely. The <i>only</i> product with high-fructose corn syrup that I allow into my house is ketchup (although, not anymore. I'll do a post on my homemade ketchup soon). If I can't pronounce an ingredient I put the item back on the shelf.<br />
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As I've mentioned before, I don't buy organic in general because of the cost. But we eat primarily vegetables and whole grains and if I'm going to buy meat I usually will splurge on that to make sure it's actually <i>good (</i>i.e hormone free). I do buy free-range eggs for when we eat eggs, but I still use the cheap store-brand ones for baking purposes. I even drink whole milk, because separating <i>all</i> the fat from milk just <i>sounds</i> nasty and wrong.<br />
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But even though I felt good about the fact that I love olive oil, real butter and whole milk, I soon became panicked. I used regular non-extra virgin olive oil for cooking (saving my good stuff for when I'm not going to be heating it up) but the way they process olives after they get the first press causes the resulting second pressed olive oil to be rancid and unhealthy. I learned that my butter was missing valuable nutrients because it came from cows who possibly never saw the light of day and have been fed soy-products (among other nasties). And not only was I putting undo stress on my digestive system because my milk is pasteurized, but I was also endangering my heart by the tiny fact that my milk is <i>homogenized.</i><br />
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<i>What the-!?</i> I didn't even know what homogenizing was!<br />
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Turns out, it's when they blast the fat particles of milk into tiny pores so they stay suspended through out the milk instead of condensing at the top. Sounds clever, right? You don't have to shake your milk...or whatever it is they do when people drink real milk.<br />
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But because it changes the chemical make up of the milk - making the fat particles tiny, as opposed to the large fat molecules they used to be - the fat is no longer healthy. Now, rather than hanging in the gut and intestines and drawing in toxins to help your body clean out, the teeny, teeming fat molecules go into your blood stream and contribute to hardening of arteries.<br />
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See why I'm so scared?<br />
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Added to the fact that since my milk is from cows who are fed GMO soy, corn and other crap (like other cows and their waste, no kidding), crammed into tiny space, given hormones to produce far more milk than any cow should be able to - even if I were to get this milk raw, unpasteurized, non-homogenized, it <i>still</i> wouldn't be a beneficial food product.<br />
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And I've been drinking this stuff for a good five years now!<br />
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So what do I <i>do?</i> One thing is certain, I cannot <i>not</i> have milk in my house. John - a milk addict - would go on strike, riot, rampage, foam at the mouth....<br />
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Okay, I'm joking. He actually understood fairly well when I explained my terrors to him. The alternative, however, is finding a local farm and buying fresh raw milk. Um delicious, and I wish wish wish, I could. But it's so <i>expensive</i>. And one day I'd like to own my own milk cows and live off that, but that dream waits until we have some land. <br />
<br />
At least turning my milk into yogurt arms it with beneficial bacteria and enzymes to promote healthy digestion. But it doesn't solve the homogenized problem. Even Stonyfield Farms, who I used to love and trust, started homogenizing their whole milk yogurt. It didn't occur to me to be mad about this until recently. In fact, I didn't even realize that the reason that their amazing, most-delicious-yogurt-on-the-face-of-the-planet cream top yogurt was non-homogenized until after it wasn't anymore. I just noticed that they stopped doing the cream top thing and started crying. (Well, not really.)<br />
<br />
Then when I started making my own yogurt (and I've got a batch going right now) I thought, "I want to try to make that cream top kind. How did they <i>do</i> that??" so I looked it up. That's when I found out they started homogenizing it, much to the <a href="http://madaster.wordpress.com/2011/01/29/stonyfield-replaces-creamtop-yogurt-with-homogenized-abomination/">dismay of many people</a>. But apparently it cuts their costs so they won't change (though I'm still going to write them to let them know my displeasure. You should too, if you care.) That said, I'll never buy anything from Stonyfield again. And that makes me sad because they're based in my state, a forty minute drive from my apartment, and I used to love them.<br />
<br />
So local farmers it is. I asked John if we could start buying local raw milk and he said... Well actually we had a really long conversation about it and it involved many other things, but what it summed up to was "maybe." The thought process went something like this: continue to buy gross cheap milk now and save enough money to buy a house quickly, buy our own cows (or goats), never spend a cent on milk again (other than upkeep costs) and drink the best milk we can imagine <i>in the future.</i> Or, buy expensive good milk now, buy a house <i>one</i> <i>day</i>, and then buy cows (or goats) and cut costs on milk then by drinking our own (and possibly make money on it by selling some too.)<br />
<br />
Course, let's be realistic here. I know <i>nothing. </i>Zilch, nada, zip, about cows. Or goats, for that matter. And increasing our food budget to pay five or six dollars per gallon of milk rather than $2.50, isn't going to set us back <i>that </i>much. Seriously.<br />
<br />
I'm trying to think of it in this way (and convince John to as well): Local raw milk (hormone and antibotic free, but I'm not worried if they aren't certified organic because that certification is just dang ridiculous.) Is not actually expensive. It that mass produced, hormone filled, pasteurized, homogenized, cattle farm milk that's <i>cheap.</i> Way cheaper than milk should be. I should look at the price of that milk on the shelf and think "Okay, why's it so cheap? What's the catch here?" And well, now I <i>know</i> what the catch is.<br />
<br />
Taking care of cows, even on a small scale, can be expensive (probably). But I <i>want</i> to support local farmers, small scale farms and real people making a living on growing real food.<br />
<br />
It's the culmination of several things, this new attitude and revelation. I've always approved of small farms and eating as local as possible, but, except for when I grow and forage my own food, I've never really done it myself. Then I read The Omnivore's Dilemma and I realized just how <i>bad</i> the food industry really was. But I <i>still</i> didn't do anything about it. And now I'm reading Nourishing Traditions, and then one of my favourite bloggers wrote<a href="http://becomingpeculiar.com/why-i-choose-to-spend-more-money-on-groceries/"> this article</a>, and I felt very convicted.<br />
<br />
I've known it all along.<br />
<br />
It's time to make some changes. I've been slowly getting around to it with my fermented foods kick, which has given me a new appreciation for what I can <i>do</i> with what I normally buy. But I need to change what I buy, too. So maybe we'll be drinking (homemade) almond milk for awhile until I find some local milk. And then we'll start small. We'll just have to cut back on our milk intake for awhile. A gallon every two weeks instead of one a week, whatever, no big deal. It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.<br />
<br />
Because even though I'm just one person, I think I <i>can</i> make a difference. Even if it's just a tiny oneChristianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-84687867706752720722012-04-10T11:30:00.004-07:002012-04-10T15:20:29.532-07:002011 reading round upHere's another one I've been intending to post for awhile.<br />
<br />
I read a lot. I've always thought it would be cool to do some book reviews on a few of the many books I devour, but I never seem to get around to it. In past years, I've found that I read so many books in a year and then look back and can barely remember which ones I read and liked, or disliked or found meh, so many books crammed into that little space I call "brain". So this past year I wrote down the title of each book as I finished it.<br />
<br />
Just having a list is helpful for recalling the subject matter and quality content of the book. I also annotated my list with a number of stars beside each title. From 0 to 5.<br />
<br />
My scoring method is as follows. <br />
<br />
Five stars means the book was amazing; positively life-changing and inspiring. And zero meaning I either found the content of the book to be very bland, disturbing, or out right lousy. For everything in between, I generally gave at least one star if it had even one thought-provoking concept, or a well written character, good descriptions or interesting premise. Occasionally, a few of these in moderate goodness were enough to equal at least one star.<br />
<br />
Here's the list of books I read last year, mostly fiction ranging from young adult fantasy to classics, and a few non-fiction<br />
<br />
<b>Books I have read in the year 2011, in basically the order I read them:</b><br />
<u>The Shipping News</u> by E. Annie Proulx - 4 stars<br />
<u>The Rag and Bone Shop</u> by Robert Cormier - 0 stars<br />
<u>Starlighter</u> by Bryan Davis - 2 stars <br />
<u>Cat's Cradle</u> by Kurt Vonnegut - 2 stars <br />
<u>Troubling A Star</u> by Madeleine l'Engle - 0 stars<br />
<u>Woman: And intimate geography</u> by Natalie Angier - 3 stars<br />
<u>The Book Without Words</u> by Avi - 3 stars<br />
<u>The Hiding Place</u> by Corrie ten Boom - 5 stars<br />
<u>Keturah and Lord Death</u> by Martine Leavitt - 4 stars<br />
<u>Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix</u> - 3 stars<br />
<u>The Silver Spoon of Solomon Snow</u> by Kaye Umansky - 4 stars <br />
<u>Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince</u> - 3 stars<br />
<u>Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows</u> - 2 stars<br />
<u>Magyk</u> by Angie Sage - 3 stars<br />
<u>Flyte</u> by Angie Sage - 2 stars<br />
<u>The Fisherman's Lady</u> by George MacDonald - 3 stars<br />
<u>Silas Marner</u> by George Eliot - 4 stars<br />
<u>Sorvay</u> by Celia Rees - 0 stars<br />
<u>Beauty</u> by Robin McKinley - 3 stars<br />
<u>Physik</u> by Angie Sage - 2 stars<br />
<u>Persuasion</u> by Jane Austen - 1 star<br />
<u>Starcrossed</u> by Elizabeth Bunce - 4 stars<br />
<u>The Count of Monte Cristo</u> by Alexandre Dumas - 3 stars<br />
<u>The Iron Thorn</u> by Caitlin Kittredge - 2 stars<br />
<u>Treasure Island</u> by Robert Louis Stevenson - 4 stars <br />
<u>Kidnapped</u> by Robert Louis Stevenson - 2 stars<br />
<u>A Curse Dark as Gold</u> by Elizabeth Bunce - 4 stars<br />
<u>The Truth</u> by Terry Pratchett - 3 stars <br />
<u>Tom Sawyer</u> by Mark Twain - 3 stars<br />
<u>20,000 Leagues Under the Sea</u> by Jules Verne- 3 stars<br />
<u>The Blue Castle</u> by L.M Montgomery - 4 stars<br />
<u>Twilight</u> by Stephanie Meyers - 1 star<br />
<u>Watership Down</u> by Richard Adams - 4 stars<br />
<u>Turn of The Screw</u> by Henry James - ?<br />
<u>Warrior</u> by Bryan Davis - 1 star <br />
<u>Sarah's Daughter</u> - 1 star<br />
<u>Serendipity Market</u> - 1 star<br />
<u>Queste</u> by Angie Sage - 2 stars<br />
<u>A Drowned Maiden's Hair</u> by Laura Amy Schiltz - 4 stars<br />
<u>The Aneid</u> - 2 stars<br />
<u>The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat</u> by Oliver Sacks - 3 stars <br />
<u>Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil</u> by John Berendt - 3 stars<br />
<u>The Girl With the Pearl Earring</u> by Tracy Chevalier - 3 stars<br />
<u>A Short History of Myth</u> - 1 star<br />
<u>Enter Three Witches</u> by Caroline Cooney - 2 stars<br />
<u>The Fellowship of the Ring</u> by J.R.R Tolkien - 4 stars<br />
<u>Of Mice and Men</u> by John Steinbeck - 4 stars<br />
<br />
Forty-seven books in all. <br />
<br />
Forgive me that some titles do not have the author's name beside it, I neglected to write this detail into my list on occasion. If you have questions about any book in particular or want a review, please feel free to ask! I would be happy to have a good motivation to write a book review.Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-4265237796225174962012-04-09T13:59:00.000-07:002012-04-09T13:59:39.473-07:00This is what happens when you put me in charge of the s'mores...John and I and a group of friends planned a cook out for this last weekend; a bonfire on the beach with hot dogs and tin-foil wrapped potatoes smothered in the coals. And of course, s'mores. As far as I'm concerned, s'mores are essential to any fire-centered party being successful. Well, since I'm so adamant about marshmallows and chocolate melted between two slabs of sweet cinnamon-and-honey-crackery goodness, I found myself being placed in charge of the s'more round up.<br />
<br />
I took my role very seriously. These would be the best danged s'mores of all time.<br />
<br />
It started when I made marshmallows...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcoIF2SFQ6UMLlnIiLpxHQ571LvzGAbvkIjWZ_sgwuHkoFx5L_wzPzv6iSy_zvOifR5G9JGLxqZXXSw-wKk_el3hAY7cVhyphenhyphen2LzKGIPWi-W_WAyFZYX0_joNPGWZg3dUfoyfM7GIVn26YI/s1600/SmoresAndIvy+057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcoIF2SFQ6UMLlnIiLpxHQ571LvzGAbvkIjWZ_sgwuHkoFx5L_wzPzv6iSy_zvOifR5G9JGLxqZXXSw-wKk_el3hAY7cVhyphenhyphen2LzKGIPWi-W_WAyFZYX0_joNPGWZg3dUfoyfM7GIVn26YI/s320/SmoresAndIvy+057.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Last year I had learned to make the whipped sugary gelatin confections. They were scrum-diddly-umptious, bouncy and fluffy. More yummy than any store bought marshmallow could even <i>imagine</i> tasting. You don't even need <a href="http://www.food.com/recipe/homemade-marshmallows-no-corn-syrup-384069">corn syrup to make them</a>.<br />
<br />
And the best part? You can <i>flavour</i> them. Any flavour you can imagine!!! ... Well, almost. I have a really vivid imagination when it comes to flavours and some pretty clever means of bringing them into existence...(though, I do say so myself. *cough*)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghiS8a6W7k_xCRl6Cr0vLVOnpXReHOHdzui-0RfzPvCewwY-DpdVEr1MN490LgVdOALMHHN9lHdLgL1hbg2gs6uesIwiVHeaSRi4tlaVFFCgO9P8DJme31pAMKyvcPoXyDCrFXf1qoC3E/s1600/Mushrooms-Camping-wine=Summer2011+103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghiS8a6W7k_xCRl6Cr0vLVOnpXReHOHdzui-0RfzPvCewwY-DpdVEr1MN490LgVdOALMHHN9lHdLgL1hbg2gs6uesIwiVHeaSRi4tlaVFFCgO9P8DJme31pAMKyvcPoXyDCrFXf1qoC3E/s320/Mushrooms-Camping-wine=Summer2011+103.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Of last year's production</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Last year they were Earl Grey flavoured marshmallows. This year, inspired by pine edibilities, I made them...of course, Pine flavoured. But in case my very <i>normal</i> friends thought this to be too outrageous for their taste buds I made an alternate Vanilla Orange flavoured batch. <br />
<br />
The result?<br />
Oh heavenly goodness. How could such lovely perfection be wasted with nasty, grody, waxy, <i>fake</i> "chocolate" as those hershey "smore sized" bars? No no! I would have GOOD chocolate with my marshmallows and that was <i>that.</i><br />
<br />
But the prices. Oooohhhhhhhh the prices. A bar of silky, cocoa-y, marvelous Ghiradelli chocolate was ever so expensive. They were being priced at more than NINE DOLLARS A POUND. Even the yucky Hershey chocolate was more expensive than I imagined it could be.<br />
<br />
So you know what I did?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigtwN_uP0wsjsmnijN58T5YIjOsFdfbJHVrn93vpkmTP_MjOgpbn-ENXrPZaWRcJazNspRqD_wkGRuouz_oT_RN222pbflFHHSeMS6eYaEMEb0soAWuGyQEM37nxXb9UUxXi-mAjP156k/s1600/SmoresAndIvy+036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigtwN_uP0wsjsmnijN58T5YIjOsFdfbJHVrn93vpkmTP_MjOgpbn-ENXrPZaWRcJazNspRqD_wkGRuouz_oT_RN222pbflFHHSeMS6eYaEMEb0soAWuGyQEM37nxXb9UUxXi-mAjP156k/s320/SmoresAndIvy+036.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I went to the BAKING section! Ah ha! Two 12oz bags of Ghiradelli semi-sweet chocolate chips for $5! That's under four dollars a pound! (I think...) Who needs Ghiradelli to put their chocolate in bar shaped slabs for an extra five bucks a pound? I could do that myself!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3UFLFJqb97QgQQh3DYZiS9cNcBuipEUwZL9uWCrYvEZWaENQlUpg4bwQK416vPFcxFRri_uhL2CBDotqrnzfuAU7uz_KS0CHomX9TVplR-xhaiEy8ytiIXpg5JoCuaNsYf0rkrd8_5mU/s1600/SmoresAndIvy+025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3UFLFJqb97QgQQh3DYZiS9cNcBuipEUwZL9uWCrYvEZWaENQlUpg4bwQK416vPFcxFRri_uhL2CBDotqrnzfuAU7uz_KS0CHomX9TVplR-xhaiEy8ytiIXpg5JoCuaNsYf0rkrd8_5mU/s320/SmoresAndIvy+025.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>And while I was at it I would sprinkle sea salt on them babies.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLY_VqKYH1FSnZ3Wk_iqVJulGcePvSWy8IVVI4FF7eT4VxUdtQGzANeNVLFJhXUKoQdGw1Qv0ZFmcrcGPN7_yGozjrfdE7QIFQu62h-4HdVVWdJo6MNMjA9dFsea42eF4rHb3epW2I6yY/s1600/SmoresAndIvy+034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLY_VqKYH1FSnZ3Wk_iqVJulGcePvSWy8IVVI4FF7eT4VxUdtQGzANeNVLFJhXUKoQdGw1Qv0ZFmcrcGPN7_yGozjrfdE7QIFQu62h-4HdVVWdJo6MNMjA9dFsea42eF4rHb3epW2I6yY/s320/SmoresAndIvy+034.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Noms.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi55SKdOLoV2TEgS1hLjtDVDGe2clE9cyfoaHfwdE7jIMPxoxn12j1YgO_aJJMLU7NmqhUgRj5A-pEhvQDgKkSjuDoMTqBSkjVw45DL1y-ouDP73uaLnLEjJPgDv4ahGsnygqK8M-KeVSY/s1600/SmoresAndIvy+038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi55SKdOLoV2TEgS1hLjtDVDGe2clE9cyfoaHfwdE7jIMPxoxn12j1YgO_aJJMLU7NmqhUgRj5A-pEhvQDgKkSjuDoMTqBSkjVw45DL1y-ouDP73uaLnLEjJPgDv4ahGsnygqK8M-KeVSY/s320/SmoresAndIvy+038.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Now that's chocolate. Better than any sub-par Hershey chocolate could ever <i>imagine</i> tasting.<br />
<br />
Well, that settled it. If I was going to go "cheap" and gourmet at the same time (funny how those two coincide more often than many people might imagine) I'd simply have to make my own graham crackers too.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpFO_fJ6usGZzSqB3zyg7Uo-JTCE_XwOt489sRg3afzAMZb51MmJDv2pmDBAOX0B047MilXIg_97K3U26OdzcsH7VAcTq1bUAYxa9MzgUs3_cbYljKe48OwWlDRPcg7cnZnzz0iHhAR4o/s1600/SmoresAndIvy+039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpFO_fJ6usGZzSqB3zyg7Uo-JTCE_XwOt489sRg3afzAMZb51MmJDv2pmDBAOX0B047MilXIg_97K3U26OdzcsH7VAcTq1bUAYxa9MzgUs3_cbYljKe48OwWlDRPcg7cnZnzz0iHhAR4o/s320/SmoresAndIvy+039.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Yeah, I've done that before too.<a href="http://smittenkitchen.com/2009/05/graham-crackers/"> And they were fantastic</a>. More delicious than any stale store graham cracker could even <i>imagine</i> tasting. So I did it again and they were the perfect top and bottom to my marvelous marshmallow masterpieces and my clever chocolaty concoction. <br />
<br />
The cookout was amazing. Fire + food + frisbees = forever fun.. (I'm fond of alliterating, you know.) How could it go wrong? Okay, well it was on a New Hampshire beach in April, so yeah, it was cold too. But that just added to the adventure.<br />
<br />
And the s'mores?<br />
<br />
Yeah, you know it.<br />
<br />
Absolutely amazing. Better than any combination of jet-puffed marshmallow, waxy Hershey chocolate and Nabisco graham crackers could have ever even <i>imagined</i> tasting. As far as I'm concerned, this is the only way to have s'mores.<br />
<br />
Wish I had a photo of the final product, but my camera is not beach friendly.<br />
<br />
Even my normal taste-budded friends were impressed. Please excuse me while I go and be smug.Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-37586985812409042102012-04-05T10:52:00.000-07:002012-04-05T10:52:47.242-07:00Considering life without a carThe state of New Hampshire requires yearly car inspections. If your car doesn't pass the inspection, you can't drive it legally. I think this is the case in most states, but I'm from Florida where the folk are blissfully allowed to drive their cars into the ground no matter what the car's condition. The first time I had even <i>heard </i>inspections was sometime after I met John. Now I have to deal with this every year in April, when I need to renew my registration etc.<br />
<br />
Meet my car:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsI58QqK-q3xRlysTDCCd5lZNF0ed5Lu0QKep2PFId2FKDnW6KaCYFToOPsuhDA1LcscYbnYt7hHUnmy-hCjv2OoClDBGlW-xqbhsfHaXzASfHvpf0FHB1ytoP1Fh73r1VJ79RaLTajOA/s1600/Winter-Solomon2011+154.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsI58QqK-q3xRlysTDCCd5lZNF0ed5Lu0QKep2PFId2FKDnW6KaCYFToOPsuhDA1LcscYbnYt7hHUnmy-hCjv2OoClDBGlW-xqbhsfHaXzASfHvpf0FHB1ytoP1Fh73r1VJ79RaLTajOA/s320/Winter-Solomon2011+154.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">96 Honda Accord, nice n' snowed on.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
(Well, not the greatest photo to show the actual car, but who cares? Cars is cars, they all look <i>basically</i> the same. Snow is prettier anyway.)<br />
<br />
Her name is Lady Lethe, and she is a super duper, great, great car! I bought her five years ago, used, for $3,000. And if I did not need to spend $30 on getting her inspected every year and <i>then</i> spend upwards of $400 on getting all the little things fixed in order for her to pass inspection, then I probably wouldn't have spent another cent on her other than gas and a few oil changes. None of these "fixes" for her to pass inspection were things that affected <i>me</i> while driving. <i>I </i>don't care if she makes a ruckus because there's a hole in her muffler, and I didn't care that the electric window couldn't roll down (despite lack of A/C) and I'm definitely not worried about the steering rack breaking on me suddenly while I drive! (I'm very reformed.)<br />
<br />
But the state of NH does. Or so the mechanic says.<br />
<br />
This morning I was told that the fixes needed to get dear Lethe to pass inspection will be more on the side of a thousand (more, if I bother getting break pads replaced). Since I spent four hundred on her last year and eight hundred on her the year before.... Well, John and I just don't think it's a good idea to spend so much on a car that will very very likely <i>not</i> pass inspection next year for some other random expensive broken part. She <i>is</i> a very old car, after all.<br />
<br />
This leaves us to figure out somethings. Buy a new car? Absolutely not. We want a house, not a car. Buy a used car? Possibly. Go without a car? Hmm....<br />
<br />
I remember when I bought my first car. I felt like I had just bought myself a whole new world of freedom. That car lasted about a month before it broke down. And so began my experiences with cars and the multitude of troubles they bring with their so-called convenience. Now I feel like <i>not</i> having a car would be freeing.<br />
<br />
Considering that we already walk to church instead of drive. It's about a 12 minute walk. When we drive, we're so close that time goes backward. We only drive if we're <i>really</i> gonna be late. As in, church starts at 10:30 and it's 10:35...<br />
<br />
I walk to my weekly bible studies (the ones that aren't at my house) and I generally walk to my friend's pottery studio when I'm going to hang with her. To go to her house would be a quick bike ride too. I generally <i>don't</i> walk to the library, because I'm not fond of carrying so many books back and forth and it's a bit more of a time and energy investment than I want to put into a quick book refreshing trip, but I could. It takes me about 30 minutes one way.<br />
<br />
Basically, if I have time and it's relatively close, I walk. I'd much <i>rather</i> walk than drive, when I have the option. <br />
<br />
So when <i>do</i> we use our car? <br />
<br />
Of the two of us, I use our car much more regularly, since John's work provides him with a truck that he uses all day long. I use our car, on average, about seven or eight times a month. I drive to the grocery store, because it would take me a good hour to walk there, and then back with groceries.... ergh, not gonna happen. I drive to a friend's house occasionally to help her out in her garden and herb studio. She lives pretty far, about a 20 minute drive. I drive to our local spring to refill our water jugs. The spring is not far; I could bike there in 15 minutes. The tricky part would be transporting six gallons of water home on a bicycle.<br />
<br />
John and I drive when we visit his parents, they're about a 40 minute drive away. We drive to the airport to pick up friends and family (when that happens). We drive to the beach transporting a surf board. We occasionally drive to other friends' houses if they've invited us for dinner. And we enjoy having the option to drive to John's family's lake house for summer frolics. We also frequently volunteer to give church folk rides and if my friend needed me to help her in teaching her pottery class again, I wouldn't be able to get there on my own steam (the school at which she teaches is a 45 minute drive).<br />
<br />
<i>If</i> we were to give up the car, we'd work out groceries and water fairly easily, by simply having John pick up what we need on his way home from work. When John is on call, one week out of three, his company prefers him to drive his truck so he'll be free to use it any time on those weeks. Those would be the weeks when we could visit friends or family, or take a trip to the lake house, but there's also be the threat of him being called out, since that's <i>why</i> he's allowed to use the truck anyway.<br />
<br />
Trips to the beach to surf would be right out unless John's surfing buddies were also going and willing to give us a ride (a distinct possibility.) I definitely won't be helping my friend in her garden this year, unless she wants to pick me up and take me home (not very likely). We'd also be in the "needs a ride" group rather than the "can give rides" of our church, which I wouldn't be too frazzled about.<br />
<br />
My final thought on this for the time being is that we <i>could</i> live without a car, but it would limit us a lot. It would take some adjusting to simply not have the option of hopping in the car and going somewhere any time I liked. And while I hate driving and prefer walking whenever possible, the loss of that optional ease does scare me a bit. But I also like the idea. Cars can really be a hassle. Plus, it would be nice to feel like I'm doing more of a part in being environmentally friendly (even though I hardly drive the one I have now.) For emergencies, we really <i>could</i> use John's work truck, though his company might not like it much.<br />
<br />
I also think it would be a lot more difficult to live without a car when our baby comes along. But we have till late summer to figure that out. And that's just as well; going without a car in the winter would also be trickier, since bicycling would no longer be an option with snow on the ground. We walk to church all year long anyway.<br />
<br />
The verdict on the car isn't totally out yet. We're checking with some other mechanics to see if it will <i>actually</i> cost as much as the first guys said. We'll also look into how much used cars are running in our area. We might go without a car for a few months and see how it feels, and if the perfect car comes along we'll buy it. <br />
<br />
Could you go without a car if you had to? Anyone local who can replace steering racks?Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-58839458871926866722012-03-30T10:15:00.000-07:002012-03-30T10:15:20.335-07:00In which I eat my friend's Christmas treeI should have posted about this a couple months ago... Actually, I should have <i>done</i> this a couple months ago. But it happened that a couple months ago I was in Florida and don't forget that I'm a bit of a procrastinator. It's worth the wait, however, as its awesome. Like foraging from your living room!<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC9AO__TVwdJGwkA0wt7tz32rRVBtUMgUSn2RRhe3rFCScSZDZriNwSCCaCfy5cZ5hDRgwvZCAwr_DfYz-L5E_4IMbBf8fe45Cyn7hWc1iNd5FJq9b55o2vHA9aq43djooosT4JTEcjak/s1600/EarringsChristmasMushroomcakeWinter2011+024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC9AO__TVwdJGwkA0wt7tz32rRVBtUMgUSn2RRhe3rFCScSZDZriNwSCCaCfy5cZ5hDRgwvZCAwr_DfYz-L5E_4IMbBf8fe45Cyn7hWc1iNd5FJq9b55o2vHA9aq43djooosT4JTEcjak/s320/EarringsChristmasMushroomcakeWinter2011+024.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My own Christmas tree</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Next Christmas, if you find yourself feeling rather sad about paying money to cut down a tree to be a temporary decoration in your house and then feel sad about throwing it away a month later, then here is something you might want to consider:<br />
<br />
Pine is edible.<br />
<br />
And it's actually pretty yummy. It tastes a lot like it smells, on the astringent side, and with a dash of bitter. It may be an acquired taste, but I find myself liking a lot of strange-ish things.<br />
<br />
If the taste doesn't suit you, here's something else to consider:<br />
<br />
Pine is antiseptic, antibacterial, high in vitamin C and other nutritious minerals. You can use your Christmas tree to make health elixirs, cough and cold remedies or even as an excellent cleaner if nothing else interests you. I've read from <a href="http://www.susunweed.com/herbal_ezine/April08/healingwise.htm">Susun Weed</a> that pine vinegar can even clear up a lung infection. This is some good stuff, folks. Seriously!<br />
<br />
And if one doesn't suit your fancy, try another variety. The taste can really vary, so don't give up if you try one that isn't so yummy.<br />
<br />
This year my friend* had a beautiful Christmas tree of a variety I had never seen before. It's needles were long and wide. They reminded me of rosemary. I asked her if I could taste it. Heh heh. Thankfully, my friend is used to me and my weird ways and told me to have a go if I really wanted.<br />
<br />
Well I did, and it was actually quite pleasing to the palette. Up until now, the best tasting pine I've been able to find is White Pine. Her pine tree (and I might have this wrong but I think she said it was called a Scotch Balsam) was lemony, slightly minty, spicy and (of course) piney. It delighted me. I asked her if I could have it when she was done using it as her temporary decoration.<br />
<br />
She happily obliged me, saying "I'm glad my super expensive Christmas tree is getting more uses than one!" And then I had a large bag of pine branches hanging about my house for about a month before I finally got around to turning them into things. <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguwUS4UdGlp22cxH56jKAoYkMRim4BPUwySKtAtt5gBWlGKrGmEj7X90Vh7MVKxet5hnp6UUNwF1Fqq-2ZXUqpciMrAY4gp2N9CvkYp28Rs6xbVQCnLP_7pyiHwKGrA5vL_840DMf-c_A/s1600/Christmastree-orangepeels+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguwUS4UdGlp22cxH56jKAoYkMRim4BPUwySKtAtt5gBWlGKrGmEj7X90Vh7MVKxet5hnp6UUNwF1Fqq-2ZXUqpciMrAY4gp2N9CvkYp28Rs6xbVQCnLP_7pyiHwKGrA5vL_840DMf-c_A/s320/Christmastree-orangepeels+006.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pine vinegar, pine simple syrup and a jar of pine needles</td></tr>
</tbody></table>So far, what I've made is: Pine simple syrup, for flavoring beverages and maybe even making candy.. (I think it might be fun to make pine lemonade, though John thinks it'll taste like cleaner....) Pine vinegar, which I intend to use in cooking as one would use balsamic vinegar. And pine soda.<br />
<br />
Yup! Pine flavoured soda. It's kinda wild tasting. I carbonated it using a fermented wild yeast starter that I learned to make here at <a href="http://www.learningherbs.com/soda_recipe.html">Learning Herbs</a>. Instead of flavoring my soda with blueberries, as in the linked recipe, I made a sugary pine decoction and turned that into soda. Good stuff!<br />
<br />
I also stripped most of the left over branches of their needles and intend to use them as an herb in cooking, the way one uses rosemary. But I could also put it in tea and blend it with other flavors. I'm thinking of chopping up the remaining needle-less branches and slow steeping them in olive oil for some piney oil. Which has many uses in and of itself! Salves, salads, wood polish...<br />
<br />
I love that I can eat my cleaners and skin care. No toxins here!<br />
<br />
For the simple syrup, I combined 2 cups sugar and 1 cup water in a pot. I added a bunch up pine needles and some of the smaller branches and stirred and let simmer under a lid for about 15 minutes. I probably could have let it go longer. The more pine you use, the more piney it will taste, (obviously). I thought mine was a little too sweet and not as piney as I hoped. I was following the Simple Syrup recipe in Joy of Cooking, but next time I think I'll use less sugar and more pine.<br />
<br />
For the vinegar, take a glass jar and pack it with pine needles and branches then fill the jar with apple cider vinegar. Put the lid on (if it's a metal lid, place something like wax paper or several layers of plastic between the jar and lid because vinegar really corrodes metal) label it with the date and wait 4-6 weeks. Then you can strain it (or not) and use as you please, on food, or your toilet! You might want to make two jars, one for each, you know, so nothing cross-contaminates, eh... <br />
<br />
So next time you have a Christmas tree, or someone you know does, try it out. Not all of them taste as good as others, but they're all edible and useful in so many ways. I was particularly delighted to find a tree that tasted so dern yummy, but there's loads to do with even the not-so-yummy varieties. You can even just go out to your closest woods and bring home some pine today if you can't wait till Christmas. Go ahead and try it!<br />
<br />
I wonder if pine ice cream would be any good...<br />
<br />
<i>* I didn't actually get to use my own Christmas tree this year for a couple reasons - it was not nearly as tasty as my friend's and I didn't want a pine overload in my house, and we actually forgot to water it most of the time we had it, so by the time we got to taking it down there wasn't much left to it. Don't let this happen to you!</i>Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-34276044536868985622012-03-29T07:51:00.000-07:002012-03-29T07:51:12.064-07:00I made yogurtYou'd better believe it, bucko.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheLuNlGCjU0WiRtF2kl9LjL-OG7OTWAYopDg51d1P-3PavRI4JPBU4tYbqyFLZy76_wQT2wlADqKXUSpeN0apZlJQRRmFy6qqDqfvHi9unOHwoJqLA8hDlXt2woNjOIx3R0n4NYmdyzP0/s1600/Ivy-Yogurt-komboucha-soupMAR2012+044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheLuNlGCjU0WiRtF2kl9LjL-OG7OTWAYopDg51d1P-3PavRI4JPBU4tYbqyFLZy76_wQT2wlADqKXUSpeN0apZlJQRRmFy6qqDqfvHi9unOHwoJqLA8hDlXt2woNjOIx3R0n4NYmdyzP0/s320/Ivy-Yogurt-komboucha-soupMAR2012+044.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In my recycled storage container. Resourceful, eh?</td></tr>
</tbody></table> Isn't it beautiful?<br />
<br />
And it's yummy too. And cheap! Now I can eat yogurt on a more regular basis and not feel guilty at how much money I'm currently eating.<br />
You see, I buy (or used, to, hehehe) Stonyfield's delicious whole organic yogurt. I love that they are organic (and honestly, I don't buy a lot of organic because it's very pricey, but this was one of my few exceptions) They have live cultures and are delicious. But at $3.69 a quart, they were one of the most expensive things on my receipts every shopping trip (unless I happened to buy meat, that time 'round). A gallon of (non-organic) milk is $2.49. So.... a gallon of milk can make me 4 quarts of yogurt for 2.49. That's a lot cheaper! I might even be able to justify buying organic milk for my yogurt making processes at a price like that! But we'll see about that.<br />
<br />
You know, we're kinda trying to save money to buy a house right now. <br />
<br />
I'm not going to go into super detail about how I made it, because there's quite a few picture by picture directions on the internet. The one I followed is <a href="http://theelliotthomestead.blogspot.com/2010/11/homemade-yogurt.html">here</a>, with a few back up researches just to make sure I had everything in a row. But it was so easy and <i>successful</i> I could explain it to you in, like, three sentences.<br />
<br />
Ready? Here goes.<br />
<br />
Take yer milk (and you wanna go whole, because it's the best, you know? I heart fat) put it in your crock pot, heat on low for 2.5 hours. Turn your crock pot off and let sit 2-3 hours. (The directions say 3, I did 2, because I was impatient, I think you mainly want it warm but not TOO warm) Add a little yogurt (I read the ratio was generally 2 tablespoons of yogurt per cup of milk) stir it up, replace the lid on your crockpot and cover with a towel to keep things warm. Let it sit for 8-12 hours. I went to sleep and in the morning: amazing! Yogurt!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4hpCnOCdywFUnMWi-BVBqwdlF5Q74R1PJNMqFqFHHGORQTC6BiWqVQ_-VNQnLNwuytI9wEzEVOzX28F7nRPZzmxLe_lLZK1vjXakGsTIyxwaxV9l9g0gW0nwc41fcFbG3dC66yTs-hBI/s1600/Ivy-Yogurt-komboucha-soupMAR2012+016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4hpCnOCdywFUnMWi-BVBqwdlF5Q74R1PJNMqFqFHHGORQTC6BiWqVQ_-VNQnLNwuytI9wEzEVOzX28F7nRPZzmxLe_lLZK1vjXakGsTIyxwaxV9l9g0gW0nwc41fcFbG3dC66yTs-hBI/s320/Ivy-Yogurt-komboucha-soupMAR2012+016.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Well, maybe that was a few more than 3 sentences, I wanted to put my own spin on it, you see?<br />
<br />
I also chilled mine before stirring it or disturbing it at all, because I read that it can help make it thicker. Not sure if this is true or not, though, because I never tried <i>not</i> doing it. But it's only my first batch, so maybe we'll try some right away and see if this is so...<br />
<br />
Some good things to remember:<br />
*save a half a cup or so of your yogurt so that you can use your homemade kind to start your next batch. *I've read that it lasts 7-10 days in your refrigerator, so only make as much as you can eat at a time. I have a feeling it will <i>probably</i> last longer, and if I find out, I'll let you know. But just in case, I only made 3 pints. One of which is already gone....and I just finished it yesterday!<br />
<br />
Even though I now have a method that works, I'm kind of curious to know the <i>how</i> behind it all. Why heat it up and let it sit? Why not just heat to the temp you need first and then add your yogurt? What happens in the milk that makes this step necessary? I'm kind of food-scientist in this area. I love just doing things that work, but I <i>really</i> love knowing <i>why</i> it works. Then I can change things all I want, so long as I know the rules.'<br />
<br />
So if I find out, I'll post about it!<br />
<br />
I also bottled my first batch of komboucha a few days ago. Sometime around lunch I'm going to break one open and taste it. I'm SO excited about it. I'll update you on that too, sometime soon.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYvC-Nk2J5pnUHp99sNURmjG1dCF-ACNQErVfbJY8_pCvLJTY1BgktTiiC0Ky1HAERjJkz4lM4trEXOm42dnZtuLPdcBoABL0WZy9QXU8RNzQmP3FgS6q_v_MSGHwmBnaV6LlCI1aXv8E/s1600/Ivy-Yogurt-komboucha-soupMAR2012+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYvC-Nk2J5pnUHp99sNURmjG1dCF-ACNQErVfbJY8_pCvLJTY1BgktTiiC0Ky1HAERjJkz4lM4trEXOm42dnZtuLPdcBoABL0WZy9QXU8RNzQmP3FgS6q_v_MSGHwmBnaV6LlCI1aXv8E/s320/Ivy-Yogurt-komboucha-soupMAR2012+008.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">tehe, love the empty vodka bottle.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Meantime, I want to give a little shout-out to one of my favourite blogger's new blogs. Even though she has no idea who I am (I'm not much of a commenter, see?), I've been a pretty regular reader of Kathleen's <a href="http://projectmonline.com/">previous blog</a> for about a year now. She just launched a new one that sounds <i>sooooo </i>interesting. So check it out at <a href="http://becomingpeculiar.com/">Becoming Peculiar.</a> If you're interested in Christianity, being kind of radical, or just like reading new ideas or new spins on old ideas, you'll probably find something that catches your fancy. I'm eating it up right now.Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-41799461948037902052012-03-28T12:52:00.016-07:002012-03-29T05:34:51.855-07:00How John and I came to Be Together, Part Three<i>This is the third and final post in mine and John's love story. See <a href="http://themagicofseasonsandteatime.blogspot.com/2012/03/four-years-of-marriage-boo-ya-or-how.html">here</a> for part one, and <a href="http://themagicofseasonsandteatime.blogspot.com/2012/03/how-john-and-i-came-to-be-together-part.html">here</a> for part two.</i><br />
<br />
Despite the fact that we weren't calling it "dating" what happened after that was more or less, us dating. We had a mutual fondness for each other and now that it was out it was a little hard to be strictly friends. We were still very good friends, but now we were more...sort of.. During his stay in the Keys, my family decided to take their vacation early because of an impending hurricane. Abby and I were to stay home because we had college classes to attend. To avoid appearance of evil, my dad arranged for John to stay at the church at night, but all during each day we spent blissful time together. John and I went out for companionable walks, he came with me to my college classes (the ones that weren't cancelled due to the hurricane) we went to the beach together and did some star-gazing together.<br />
<br />
On one occasion, we had the evening to ourselves because Abby went on a date with Terence. We made dinner together and dressed up a little and ate. After dinner John suggested we dance. I put on some Celtic music which we both enjoyed and we did some merry jigs together, feeling a little giggly and silly. The evening was growing late and John needed to be going soon. We decided on one more dance. It was a slower song, so we commenced to waltz. I remember we entwined fingers for that dance and as it went on, we got closer and closer. As the song ended and the next track came on, John and I fell into an embrace. We had taken to hugging each other before he left for the night, but this hug went past the normal duration of hugs. It lasted the entire second song. Then John quickly broke it off, he hastily placed something in my hand and closed my fingers over it before he said goodbye and quit the house in a flushed hurry. I watched him go with my heart pounding and then opened my hand to see what he gave me. It was a ring he had always worn. I was stunned, and that was when I knew I was wildly and madly in love with him<br />
<br />
Funny how after that we continued as we had before, but now our evening goodbye hugs lasted longer and I found myself wanting to look at him a whole lot more. One night as we looked at the bright stars together, John asked if he could put his arm around me; I readily agreed. And on the walk home, he asked me if he could hold my hand, to which I also agreed. After that, we always held hands when we walked.<br />
<br />
He did eventually have to go home, though. He had relatives in NC that were expecting him to stay with them on a particular date. They like things to be just so, so he couldn't extend his stay any further. He had already called his uncle and asked if it was okay if he showed up a few days late once, so he figured he'd better not push his luck. Since he wanted a place to stay on the way up.<br />
<br />
After he left but before my family returned, my house was so quiet. Abby was almost always gone because she had things to do with Terence and so I frequently was alone in the house. I had a lot of time to reminisce and think. I was happy that John and I had established a relationship of sorts, but I was also very sad and pensive about how long it would be before I saw him again. We did not have a "next time" planned, or figured out. Abby and Terence's wedding was coming up, and he had been invited, so he hoped to come to that, if finances allowed, but it was quite a few months in the future.<br />
<br />
We continued our long distance communication, staying up late chatting on the phone or internet. It seemed that we never ran out of things to talk about. Our conversations never got very sappy or romantic, but they were always so wonderful and encouraging. Sometimes, however, it was very difficult to be 1,800 miles away from the person you like the best. I think John felt it the most since it was mainly up to him to figure out how to get us together. In the mean time, I was busy with college and making semi indefinite plans to move to Tampa and helping Abby plan her wedding.<br />
<br />
Abby's and Terence's wedding got moved up in the calender, they wanted to get married before Abby's college semester ended so that they'd be settled for her first summer off. John didn't quite have the funds to make another trip to Florida so soon. He missed it and I missed him. I decided I would go to him, since he had come to me last. I got a job and bought a car and saved up for a road trip to New Hampshire with my younger sister, Julie. Unfortunately, my car was not the most reliable and it broke down a month after I bought it. Road trip being no longer possible, I decided to fly. We went that summer and stayed somewhere between two and three weeks with John and his family. It was one of the most delightful summers of my life.<br />
<br />
We didn't get a lot of time to ourselves, but any time spent together was precious. We hiked Mt. Washington and picked blueberries, canoed on his family's lake, did some archery and spent a lot of time exploring the woods behind his house. All these things included Julie and John's younger brother. Then one day we managed to convince Julie that John and I needed to be alone (she didn't seem to understand that we were in love) and we went on a wild round about trip to the beach. The night before we packed a picnic, then early, early, we rode with John's dad to his work in some north east part of Massachusetts. While he worked, John and I borrowed the car to find a magical beach in Maine called Ft. Foster. John had been there several times in his childhood but never drove himself. We took quite a few wrong turns and went in circles a few times before finding it. But when we arrived, it was wonderful.<br />
<br />
We had our picnic and frolicked in the waves and sat on a rock over looking the ocean. The wild New England coast is so different than the tropical waters of the Keys. While exploring a little stone turret and looking at the sea John took my hand and asked me if he could kiss me. I thought about it awhile. I had kissed Tod way back when, once and regretted it ever since. I didn't want to throw away kisses on every boy who asked me, even if I <i>was</i> sure I was going to marry him. I said no, and told him why. He understood and respected that. But the rest of the trip and especially after Julie and I went back to FL, I wished I had said yes.<br />
<br />
While in NH and staying with John's fabulous family, I invited them to come down and stay with my family some time. To my delight John's dad seemed to think it was a great idea and actually started to consider it. The time between visits was frequently difficult. I was happy to know I had a dedicated guy, but I longed to be with him. Money was the main obstacle that kept us from closing the distance more often, but sometimes, I wondered if my family was suspicious or disapproving of how often we attempted to see each other. I still hadn't told my parents because I didn't think they would take our relationship seriously. So when John's dad decided he wanted to see the Florida Keys, it was a real boon to John and I.<br />
<br />
Right before I moved to Tampa, early in the December after Julie's and my trip to NH, John's family came down to the Keys. Our relationship was still fairly secret, since it wasn't official in any way. John and I took every chance we had to sneak off on romantic walks and time alone. It was on one of these walks, while looking at the stars on the same abandoned bridge that he told me I was the only one for him, that we kissed for the first time.<br />
<br />
I can't even say who initiated it; we had our heads together and we weren't actually paying very much attention to the stars. But somehow our lips found each other and that was that. I remember thinking, when I realized how close our faces were and sweet his breath smelled that if he kissed me, I wouldn't pull back. It could have been on my decision alone that allowed it to happen, but it was perfect. The most romantic first kiss a couple could have dreamed of. It was John's first kiss of all time, and I heartily wish it were mine as well.<br />
<br />
It might seem strange to some how we moved along in the physical aspect of our relationship. I said no to John's first offer of a kiss because I wasn't quite sure or comfortable enough to allow that to happen. But between that summer and that winter, our love and relationship progressed to where I was one hundred percent sure of John. We didn't have many chances to kiss after our first one, on that visit, but each one was special and romantic. And by now we had a plan for being together forever....<br />
<br />
As I mentioned before, I intended to move to Tampa. The time came for me to make that definite move and January the following move was the time. The same year, John made plans to move his self to Tampa. <br />
He visited me once before he planned to move. In April, for my birthday. It was a sweet short visit, and we knew that the next time we were together, we would never have to <i>really</i> be apart again. <br />
<br />
While I established myself there, living with my sister and her husband, working at a health food store and going to the community college, John saved up his money and prepared to make his move. He had originally planned to move down with a friend who was interested in a particular school in Tampa, but then his friend found a girlfriend and decided he'd rather stay in NH. So John forged ahead on his own. And the plans all came together. The time between visits grew shorter every time. We went from a year and a half between meeting and seeing each other again, to eight months, to five months, to four months. Two months more and we'd be together forever. <br />
<br />
One of John's cousins were getting married in North Carolina in June. John's family drove there, and I flew in. They picked me up and we booked two rooms at a hotel. John's mom and I stayed in one room and John and his dad and brother stayed in another. We went to the rehearsal dinner and party where John and I sneaked off to a corner in the garden to make out and spend some time together. We had a jolly time on that trip with his family, stopping in Virginia on the way home to see some sites.<br />
<br />
Back in New Hampshire I helped John pack and we loaded up his Subaru. Not long after that we set out to drive to Tampa, Florida. Once there, John applied for a job at the same health food store I worked at and was hired on the spot (I had a good reputation). Then we went to the library and internet searched and craig-listed for apartments. My brother-in-law was unwilling to allow John to stay in his house for even a night, even though he never actually <i>said</i> "He's not welcome," he made it fairly obvious. Neither John nor I even bothered to ask. John slept in his car for three nights before he found a well-priced and reasonably close apartment. When I think of it now I realize how brave it was of John to simply pack up and drive down here with only a shadow of a promise for a job and no prospects of an abode. I felt terrible leaving him at the Wal-mart parking lot at night where he parked his car and slept, but it was certainly a sure way of him to convince me how much he loved me.<br />
<br />
And then he found a place. It was the most perfect apartment in the world. Situated directly on my way to work. I picked John up on my way to work and we spent nearly every waking minute together. Bliss. I left only at night to sleep at my sister's house. <br />
<br />
The rest from there is fairly obvious. We dated in real life like normal people for about two more months, then John proposed at the beach during sunset. It was romantic and beautiful. I burst into laughter and said yes. I actually was taken by surprise by his timing, but it was perfect. Sometime just before John moved to Tampa, I told my parents that John and I were dating. My dad gave me very similar advice to when I was considering Bert, strangely. Despite the fact that I had <i>told</i> them how serious we were, they still seemed very surprised - shocked, even- when we announced our engagement. Nevertheless, we were engaged in September and the following spring; the first day of spring, in fact, March 21st, 2008, we were married.We had known each other for five years and more or less dated for two.<br />
<br />
And we've been living happily ever after!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAubQSaCuxGSy0yTv7-U2DBPF3Bs3NaGj0qFmBqIBlttkqYXOYLvX_Nl-yDI4l0mC-fgIhLWhOph2aEnYjCStGx-uGf_oygLZmUZ1F2iUpUETO1tCsXkNd-E6ahRds9W2Yf7UlujUxKSo/s1600/BeforePics-Art-KitchenAutumn2011+111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAubQSaCuxGSy0yTv7-U2DBPF3Bs3NaGj0qFmBqIBlttkqYXOYLvX_Nl-yDI4l0mC-fgIhLWhOph2aEnYjCStGx-uGf_oygLZmUZ1F2iUpUETO1tCsXkNd-E6ahRds9W2Yf7UlujUxKSo/s400/BeforePics-Art-KitchenAutumn2011+111.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sign I painted for our house</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<i>So there you have the incredibly long and fairly romantic story of John and Christiana and all the hardships they had to endure between blissful visits with each other. If you've read this whole thing, I salute you.</i>Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-44743075434886840562012-03-27T11:19:00.000-07:002012-03-27T11:19:20.604-07:00How John and I came to Be Together, Part Two<i>This is the second part of how John and I met, fell in love and got married. For part one, go<a href="http://themagicofseasonsandteatime.blogspot.com/2012/03/four-years-of-marriage-boo-ya-or-how.html"> here.</a></i><br />
<br />
According to John, the night of the day he left the Keys he called his dad. "I met the most awesome girl in the world, Dad. She was <i>so cool</i>." He said. John's dad asked him if he was going to start a relationship with me. He was 15. He hardly knew me and he lived 1,800 or so miles from me. Some how, a long distance dating relationship did not seemed entirely too daunting to him. He settled with keeping in touch with me via email and AIM. <br />
<br />
Now I have to mention all the <i>other</i> relationships I had to deal with. At that time in my young newly turned 16 year old life, I was semi "dating" a guy I had <i>had</i> a crush on. He was a few years older than me but apparently didn't know any better. He lived in a different state, somewhere.... We'll call him Tod because that's totally not his real name and if he's some sort of stalker he'll still know I'm talking about him and be offended by my using an ugly name to call him. (Sorry if your name is Tod in real life.)<br />
<br />
Tod and I had had a mutual crushes on each other back when he lived in the Keys with his brother and he came to our church. As far as I was concerned I was going to marry him. But then he got tired of the no-where job he had at Kmart and how mostly boring the Keys can be when you don't have an interest in water sports, so he up and moved back to where he came from.<br />
<br />
I figured, well, I'd just have to date him <i>long distance</i>. I wasn't going to be of marrying age for a good 3 to 5 years <i>anyway.</i> Well, we kind of dated and we kind of didn't. He was a jerk and never responded to my emails or real life letters. He occasionally called me and then didn't say much. He wasn't a very good conversationalist. My journal at the time is filled with tearful entries of how confused I was that this guy with whom I was "totally in love" simply wouldn't communicate with me.<br />
<br />
Shortly before the New Hampshire Boys came in to our lives, a pastor from way north Florida, who was good friends with my family, thought that it was time my sister, Abby, at 19 was in a relationship. There aren't many eligible guys in the Keys and that's just that. How any of us expected to find husbands is beyond me. So our pastor friend sent down a very nice young man, we'll call him Bert, to meet Abby and see if they would fall in love and get married. They didn't.<br />
<br />
Instead what happened was he fell in love with me. Well, sort of. He remained friends with our family despite the fact that he and Abby were obviously not in love and visited us occasionally. While we were still friends but not in love was when we met Seth, Sam, Rob and John. I remember telling him about them over AIM.<br />
<br />
John's and my relationship was limited to friendly, funny emails and the occasional AIM chat. My relationship with Bert remained friendly as well, but I found myself seriously having a crush on him as my relationship with Tod spun wildly out of existence.<br />
<br />
A lot of things were happening in my life at this time, my family moved from living above the church to a new, beautiful house of our own. I started attending the community college in Key West and continued with finishing my highschool. I considered more seriously moving to Tampa to live with my sister and I also seriously wondered if any of these guys would be the one I would marry. I was growing up and figured I needed to sort things out.<br />
<br />
One day, around the age of 17 I decided Tod really wasn't the one for me. I liked Bert and he had told me that he liked me too. I wasn't sure if I wanted to be in a "Serious" relationship, as in courting or dating with intention to marry, I still felt I was a little young for that, but Bert was adamant that he was willing to wait for me if I needed time. (He was finishing college and moving to a real life big time job around this time.) I broke it off with Tod and wondered why I had taken so long to get around to it.<br />
<br />
My sisters' and my friendship with the NH boys remained fairly steady despite long lapses between conversations. Though while I was staying up til 3 AM talking to Bert over AIM, my correspondence with John became much slower. And once, Julie, chatting with John on AIM told him that I was in love with someone else. "They're practically dating." She had said. And looking back I think that may have been around the time when my correspondence with John had ceased completely, for a good three or four months. I hardly noticed, I'm sad to say. At this time I went to France for three weeks with Abby, our older sister, Bett, and her husband.<br />
<br />
Then one day, a couple of the famous NH Boys, Sam and Seth, came down with a few new friends, and we met more "New Hampshire Boy" gang. I remember being sad that John didn't come down too. Sam and Seth thought we ought to come to NH for a visit and see some snow and learn to snowboard. So that next winter, we did. Well, Julie and I did. Abby was forming a relationship with a fine man in town and was not interested in leaving him at the time.<br />
<br />
I'll never forget the night after we arrived in New Hampshire. We headed over to Seth's apartment and I remember asking Sam (at whose grandparents house we were staying, and who was driving) if there was a possibility of us seeing John. As we pulled into Seth's driveway I saw through the window Seth talking to a <i>very</i> handsome guy, whom I did not recognize. "Hey, John is here." Sam mentioned to me. I wondered how he knew because there were no other cars in the driveway.<br />
<br />
We entered the house and Seth grinned and hugged us, then I turned to the handsome stranger. My jaw musta' dropped. It was John. The same John I had met two and a half years before, but now his hair was short and while it was still a little wild, it was very dashing. His face was more chiseled than the 15-year-old boyish face I had remembered, but still freckled. I think my heart must have done a little flip flop when he gave me a smile and a nod and called me Lady Christiana. Then we cut with the formal stuff and gave each other a brief and friendly hug. And even though I was "practically dating" another guy and fully expected to marry that other guy, I more than enjoyed every moment I had with John on that trip.<br />
<br />
Like times before, when John and I were in a group together, we were side by side and generally in our own bubble. It felt like we hadn't spoken in aeons since we hadn't really emailed in awhile. We had a lot to catch up on. Just as easy to talk with as before but now he was handsome and dashing too. And chivalrous. On one occasion I had left my notebook in his brother's car and we had already taken off our shoes. He ran outside, barefoot, in the snow to grab it for me. When he got in, I remembered my pen was still out there. He ran out again. I thought I would burst with the romance of it all.<br />
<br />
Then, sadly, the trip ended. This time, however, John and I renewed our correspondence commitment, and we even exchanged real addresses for snail-mail. My life suddenly seemed a lot less bright and amazing when I had left John's side. Pair that with the reality of my relationship with Bert and I began to realize some very important things. Shortly after seeing John, I had a visit with Bert. I stayed with him and his family for a few days and while on the trip I noticed something about myself. And that was, that myself with Bert was very different than myself with John, or any of my other friends. I realized that due to the difference in age and stage of life we were in, I acted a lot more serious and grown up around Bert. Not that it was a bad thing, I think, I still had good times with him and we joked around together, but I found that I liked the way I was with John so much more than I liked the way I was with Bert. The insight gave me some serious things to think about.<br />
<br />
I was a few months from turning 18. I knew when I did that Bert would pressure me a little more about "officializing" our relationship. He would want us to formally enter a courtship stage and move on from there. I began to get panicky. I talked to my dad (a great idea). He told me I <i>was</i> still young, even though I would soon be of age for a great many things. He encouraged me to hold off on any serious relationships if I wasn't sure about them. Grateful for not only the good advice (which I kind of already felt, but it was nice to have it affirmed) but also the good excuse of "My dad doesn't think I'm ready." I told Bert. Tearfully; for we had had a rather nice relationship and he <i>was</i> a great guy and was always very honourable by me (unlike that scuddy Tod). I was mostly sad to break his heart, the idea of being free of any kind of serious relationship was a great relief to me, though. I told him I was interested in finishing college before I wanted to look into marriage. I told him I could not guarantee that I would still be attracted to him at the end of it (honestly, I was already pretty much over him, but I did still really like him). I told him not to wait for me. He, though saddened by it, agreed to this and we separated ways. Our relationship had not been a very strong friendship before it became more, and so we didn't have much in common any more once we broke up. But he said a funny thing in one of his last letters to me. "Whoever you end up with (and I have a feeling it will be that John fellow) will be a very blessed and lucky guy." I guess I must have talked about John quite a bit back then...<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, John's and my correspondence, both real letters, emails and AIM continued strong. He even called me occasionally. Then one day, perhaps a week after I had broken up with Bert, I was checking the mail again for my family, not expecting anything, for John had just sent me a letter a day or two before. There was <i>another</i> letter from him to me in our mailbox. My heart thundered. What could it be about?<br />
<br />
I remember I immediately went and hid behind my parents hot-tub and read it, the rest of the mail in a pile beside me on the ground. It was a proposal of courtship. I nearly fainted. I wanted to write him that same day with a "<i>YES! I would</i> <i>LOVE to date you and marry you!!!!!"</i> But then my sensible self chimed in. "Hello? You just broke it off with Bert with the excuse that you wanted to finish college before you had a serious relationship. If word gets around he'll think you just use that as a convenient excuse to date John." Oh yeah. I couldn't really do that, now could I? Bert had asked if there was anyone else I was more interested in at the time of my breaking up with him. I said (and honestly) no. Because while I was very fond of John, he had never made any romantic advances towards me. Our relationship had been only friendly.<br />
<br />
I wanted to cry as I wrote the letter saying I was honoured by his request but not interested in any serious relationships until I was done with college. I remember writing, with hope, that if his interest in me remained the same at the end of 4 years, I would be more than happy to date him then. We both agreed that even though he had asked me to date him and that I had refused, we could easily still be friends. And we did. But now it was slightly different. I now knew that he <i>did</i> in fact like me in a romantic way, and I returned the feeling secretly. We let the scenario pass after one complete conversation about it and remained friends just as before.<br />
<br />
Somewhere around this time I finished highschool. Proud of myself and feeling the need to celebrate, I decided to invite John to stay for a few weeks with me and my family. I asked him if he wanted to take me on Promenade. My sister Abby had had Sam take her on Prom and nothing romantic ever came of it, so I figured it wouldn't be very forward of me to ask. Whether it was or wasn't, John happily agreed and came down that September. For our promenade, we dressed in Medieval clothes and booked a short sail on a historical tall ship that did a pretty sunset sail in waters of Key West. My sister, Abby and her then fiance, Terence, offered to make a "magical" dinner for us. They set up Terence's patio like a medieval tavern and<br />
pretended to be inn keepers and served us shepherds pie and walnut salad. It was fun and romantic, even though John and I did not in fact, hold hands or exchange words of romance to each other. We were still strictly friends at this point.<br />
<br />
After eating, we spent some time at a dark beach looking at the ocean. Then we drove back to my family's house. Funny enough, it was the next day that we established our relationship. I was still going to the community college and John accompanied me to one of my classes. Afterwards, while driving home, I encouraged him to pass my street and keep going, I wanted to show him a pretty place further up my neighbourhood. There, on an abandoned bridge over looking a pristine green canal, John told me he was not interested in having a relationship with any one else. He was still interested in me and was willing to wait as long as I needed. These dedicated words warmed my heart and encouraged me. I told him that I returned this feeling. We weren't dating, but we were dedicated to each other, in a sense. I did not feel guilty that John was willing to wait for me the way I felt when Bert said the same thing. John and I were the same age and in the same stages of life. We were still young and in need of some establishment before any kind of marriage could happen. In the very least we needed to live in the same town. I now look back on this moment and think of it as the official start of our romantic relationship. <br />
<br />
<i>Okay, turns out this is way too long to do in only two parts. Come back tomorrow for part three! Concerning our dating and marriage.</i>Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-45831003169104419532012-03-26T09:29:00.001-07:002012-03-26T09:30:17.819-07:00Four years of marriage. Boo ya. Or How John and I came to be together Part OneOn Wednesday, March 21st, John and I celebrated our four year anniversary. I intended to do a post on that day but I'm rather far behind on this blog and of course, I was too busy cleaning my house and preparing a special anniversary dinner (and *cough*, making mugs and vases for fun on my friends pottery wheel....)<br />
<br />
Well, <a href="http://themagicofseasonsandteatime.blogspot.com/2011/03/its-snowing.html">last year</a>, for our anniversary I wrote a <a href="http://themagicofseasonsandteatime.blogspot.com/2011/03/soapbox-sundays-marriage-isnt-as-hard.html">long and boring post</a> on why I don't think marriage is hard. Or at least, that's what it was supposed to say. It was really just long and ramble-y. But this year, I think I'll write the story of how we met. It's way more interesting and pretty awesome too, although also very long. I'll split it into two parts for ya. Part one is how we met. Part two is how our teenage, long-distance acquaintance turned into a serious and beautiful relationship.<br />
<br />
But before I begin, do you remember this?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwqERDsLR-xpBYR6ADw8ASU85lJQCEnmjGff8OAZYKEREmHUA-rvBT34YJu2bdGHUn9VSQ7UAhqltCdGu49BW4Arf-WBXFkPVeBlXrxp6Pz_E6EGm4JJCBQG7U7Q8Xe0r6o8x4e11dWhQ/s1600/BeetWineBeginnings-beefStew-SeasonProject-CleanDirtyHouse2011+107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwqERDsLR-xpBYR6ADw8ASU85lJQCEnmjGff8OAZYKEREmHUA-rvBT34YJu2bdGHUn9VSQ7UAhqltCdGu49BW4Arf-WBXFkPVeBlXrxp6Pz_E6EGm4JJCBQG7U7Q8Xe0r6o8x4e11dWhQ/s320/BeetWineBeginnings-beefStew-SeasonProject-CleanDirtyHouse2011+107.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Actually, I don't think I told you about it. And I'm not sure why I took a photo of it either, just something kind of funny to me about an egg falling off my table and breaking on my carpet, I guess... On my anniversary. Last year....<br />
Except now it's especially weird because while I was making eggs and toast for John for breakfast on our anniversary this year, I broke another egg. Twice now, I've broken an egg on my anniversary. Good thing I don't believe in omens! Totally weird, but definitely coincidental...in as far as I believe in coincidences, which don't really exist because God is completely sovereign and has it all planned out from the tiniest detail to the big eternal picture. And this is pretty clear when you hear our story, because it's wild that a girl in Key West should marry a guy from the mountains of New Hampshire, isn't it? <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS71FcsiuvZS_V2WjYLdWDIbyAh1-lEl9MuaD4ejOgvWp11nty91UavZ7n5r1EZj0o_I4dUfETIZ2z5gE-4wYchclUNn_HCI-5Ar2iPgWAP8CeEUU4On7oieskxn3FKJI6aNXjSnMVtbw/s1600/Boston-BeerBottling-Spring2011+106.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS71FcsiuvZS_V2WjYLdWDIbyAh1-lEl9MuaD4ejOgvWp11nty91UavZ7n5r1EZj0o_I4dUfETIZ2z5gE-4wYchclUNn_HCI-5Ar2iPgWAP8CeEUU4On7oieskxn3FKJI6aNXjSnMVtbw/s640/Boston-BeerBottling-Spring2011+106.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In Boston</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Now, to the story.<br />
<br />
I grew up in the Florida Keys. My whole life. I traveled a little with my family, but not extensively, the Florida Keys was my world. And while I figured one day I'd grow up and move off somewhere, maybe go to college, that somewhere never really extended farther than Tampa, where my older sister lived. I was only fifteen.<br />
<br />
Well, it was the day before my birthday, the next day I would be sixteen. It was Easter Sunday. We were in church, my dad in the front being his pastor self, and the family sitting in the backer rows of the building. Right as the 11:00 service started, four young men entered the building and sat directly behind my sisters and I. They were kind of dirty, a little smelly and their shirts were really wrinkly. They all had long hair, some of them in braids. I didn't get the greatest view of them before they sat down, so I probably took these details in afterward, since obviously, I wasn't going to crane my neck around to look at them.<br />
<br />
I don't remember if I wondered who they were, or if they distracted me from the service or if I intended to introduce myself to them after the service, but then, I don't remember the sermon much either (sorry, dad). It just so happened, that after the service, Abby, my older sister, and I turned around. And there were four young men, standing there. We introduced ourselves to the visitors like model pastors daughters. Their names were Seth, Sam, Rob and John. Seth and Sam were brothers. Rob and John were brothers. This is how it happened:<br />
Abby said "Hi, I'm Abby."<br />
They said respectively "Hi, I'm, Seth, Sam, Rob, John" <br />
Then I said "I'm Christy" and they said, once again, their names respectively. Except for John who said "And I'm....still...John." Which immediately endeared me to him. Because I was thinking it was very silly that they were all repeating their names when I had <i>just</i> heard their names.<br />
<br />
They were from New Hampshire, they were on a road trip. They had been driving most of the night and slept, the four of them in Seth's five seater car, on the side of the highway. When the morning came, they thought they would like to go to church, it being Sunday and all, but they also wanted some better sleep. So they headed into Key West to sleep on the beach and while driving through the lower Keys they saw our church building, and the big sign that said "Worship at 11". Which is when they decided to come to our church because the service was the latest they had seen yet and therefore they could get more sleep before going to church.<br />
<br />
Cool how that worked out, eh?<br />
<br />
Well, while Abby and I chatted with these boys, it turned out we had common spirits. Not a lot in common, necessarily but similar attitudes towards life. That is, we did stuff that we liked and thought was fun, and didn't care if it was considered "cool" or not. Of course, that really means we just had our own definition of cool, because no teenager can <i>actually</i> not care about being cool. And since Abby was the oldest of our new formed group at 19, we were all teenagers.<br />
Seth was, had been, a snowboard instructor for the winter, Rob was an apprentice electrician, Sam and John were still in school, but the cool part was that they were homeschooled, just like us! We chatted about the merits and awesomeness of being homeschooled. We chatted about the retardation of public schools. We chatted about life in the Keys and life in New Hampshire. Then it was getting late, and no more people were in the church. They said they were going to go into town to see some sights and we invited them back to evening service, if they wanted.<br />
<br />
And they came. Much to Abby's and my delight.<br />
<br />
It now occurs to me how very unusual it is that four young men, on their own in a different state from their parents or anyone that they know, should come to church at all. But especially strange that they would voluntarily go to an Sunday evening service. And even more so, because their church at home didn't even have one. The first service means one thing, but I think their attending the second service might mean something else.<br />
<br />
After evening service, we regrouped and continued to chat. Our topics of conversation were varied and sundry and at some point, my mom and dad joined the conversation, which didn't phase any of us. When it came out that they didn't <i>actually</i> have a place to stay in Key West and that they intended on sleeping in their car or on the beach again, my Dad offered them a couple night's stay in our church's sanctuary. They gladly accepted and asked if there was anything that needed to be done around the church premises that four strapping young men could help out with.<br />
<br />
Turned out there was. Though it didn't really require their strapping-ness.<br />
<br />
My dad's <a href="http://www.keys-christians.org/">evangelistic ministry</a> puts out a quarterly newsletter. Back then, it was quite the process to get out. over 1000 people received our newsletter by mail, and then we always needed extra to hand out and keep on the church's back table. These newsletters needed to be folded in half, have the insert placed in the middle, and folded again. Then mailing sticker dots put on to keep them sealed shut and address labeled after that. It's a long and arduous process made better and faster by more helping hands and some good conversation. Abby and I already had been working on newsletters most of Saturday, so we showed our new friends the work room and the six of us sat and worked and chatted. Mom and Dad went home (which back then, was upstairs of the church) and late into the night four boys and two girls talked and folded paper in the church offices.<br />
<br />
It was during these hours that John and I sat beside each other compared interests. We actually <i>did</i> have a lot in common. Both being wildly interested in fantasy literature, reading and writing it. And while I was thinking <i>this guy is so cool, he's just like me! It's like we're the same. </i>John said aloud "You're just like me! We're practically the same!"<br />
<br />
I was smitten. He was moderately good looking, with his straw coloured hair in shoulder length braids, and freckles and blue green eyes, but what really got me, I think, was how much attention he paid me. And the fact that we had so much in common. He was cool and sweet and had a very funny sense of humour. He made me laugh more than anyone I knew, and best of all, he was the first person of all time (maybe the only one?) to tell me that <i>I had a beautiful laugh</i>. Up until that point in my life I had been told on many occasion, that I had a "weird" and"obnoxious" laugh, that it was "too loud," "sounded like a donkey," and "sounded like a pig." And once I had been told I should "get a new laugh." And he told me it was beautiful. <i>Beautiful.</i> Yes, I really was smitten.<br />
<br />
The next day was my birthday, and since our New Hampshire Boys (as we called them from then on) were staying beneath us, we saw them. They went to the gas station down the road and bought themselves a gallon of milk and some cereal, and then they had breakfast with us. Our family had cereal too, and would have gladly shared with them, but it was just as well that they bought their own, for all we had was soy milk and the healthy cereals....<br />
<br />
Being homeschooled, and it being my birthday, I declared it an official holiday and all my siblings followed suit. We took our NH boys on a walk around our neighbourhood and showed them the quarry were we liked to swim and the bridge where we liked to jump into the water. It was a jolly time. They expressed interest in seeing my dad's <a href="http://www.keys-christians.org/gospel-ministry-at-mallory-squ/">evangelism technique</a> in downtown Key West so we took them to the famous Mallory Square. More accurately, they drove themselves and myself down (since it was my birthday.) and my sister rode with my dad down. We played hacky sack and roamed Key West before going back home to have birthday cake with my family and then proceeding to the church offices once again to continue to fold newsletters. My younger sister Julie joined us then, realizing she was missing out on a lot of fun.<br />
<br />
It now occurs to me to wonder at the trust of my parents, both in their daughters and in complete stranger guys to allow us to hang out so much without any kind of chaperoning. All I can say is that my parents are incredibly reformed and very much trust God's sovereign will.....<br />
<br />
That night, we folded newsletters till about 3 am. When we ran out of newsletters to fold. After that, we talked a little more and then we got to playing card games and Mafia and all sorts of other stuff. It was the first and only night I ever did not sleep. The sky began to lighten. We walked down to the quarry together again and watched the sun rise and the morning bloom. It was nice.<br />
<br />
During this whole time John stayed by my side as much as possible. While Julie and Abby grouped up with the others, John and I seemed always slightly paired off and to the side, holding our own conversations. I felt very fond of him; I appreciated his attentions and loved how much we had in common. I had never had such easy exchanges. His humor and wit were hilarious and original, I didn't even know such funny people existed! Though I did not think him particularly handsome or hot, I did find him rather cute. He was only 15 after all.<br />
<br />
That afternoon they left, saying they had arrangements to stay with some friends in northern parts of Florida and then they had to be somewhere else soon after that. We all exchanged e-mail addresses and AIM names before parting ways. (There was no facebook back then, thankfully). I went to bed to take a nap, smiling in my sleep I'm sure.<br />
<br />
Stay tuned for part 2!Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-49169755443080867072012-03-22T08:16:00.002-07:002012-03-22T08:26:47.019-07:00Year of the Fermented FoodFirst things first. Pretty much everyone who knows me personally knows this by now so the world wide web may as well know too:<br />
I'm pregnant!<br />
Approximately half way through, too.<br />
Here's a cute belly photo: <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2UzfzAVyaM48wj_NRHDlzLMFQGxbLKEMjrZjH9RlDJDwp0k3KIJ_Bny4h5mCtnM8K9bndlMaSOJDTkBnxWi8iauWuLI4nfX0Zvxy6UP2u-KZRmDs7SkdkrZN8PBj5RYKHrsyFEAqwV8A/s1600/PregnantpicsAndsomeStarters+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2UzfzAVyaM48wj_NRHDlzLMFQGxbLKEMjrZjH9RlDJDwp0k3KIJ_Bny4h5mCtnM8K9bndlMaSOJDTkBnxWi8iauWuLI4nfX0Zvxy6UP2u-KZRmDs7SkdkrZN8PBj5RYKHrsyFEAqwV8A/s320/PregnantpicsAndsomeStarters+002.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">21 weeks, 2 days</td></tr>
</tbody></table>You can use this as an excuse for my absence if you like (but in reality I'm just lazy about blogging.) Now lets get on to the good stuff!<br />
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I hereby dub the year of our Lord two-thousand-and-twelve The Year of the Fermented Food. Let it be known through out the land that everyone should get on this fermented food bacteria probiotic bandwagon with me!<br />
<br />
I've always been pretty interested in getting good bacteria in my life but only recently has it occurred to me that I could <i>make</i> it... Sometime in January I made my first attempt at a naturally fermented batch of sauerkraut. Would you like to see a photo?<br />
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It wasn't successful, I'm sad to say. It was actually really gross. Like seriously nasty. It tasted like really salty old people...I told you it was gross.<br />
<br />
But I'm not one to give up easily; It was the beginning of many a fermented food experiment! And most of them have been successful!<br />
<br />
Since that fateful day that I have revisited my sauerkraut desires, following this <a href="http://www.learningherbs.com/sauerkraut_recipe.html">recipe/guide</a> and this time I was quite pleased with the turn out.<br />
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That being a marvelous triumph I turned my hand to other naturally fermented things. When I say "naturally fermented" I mostly mean by use of wild yeast. Though I have turned to my bakers yeast when things seemed a little slow or inactive.<br />
<br />
A little note on why: Fermented foods are crazy healthy and good for you. They fill your body with good bacteria that fight off the bad stuff. They improve digestion and keep your intestines flowing smoothly (sorry if that gives anyone a bad visual.) Obviously, I want some of this goodness in my diet! It's easy to get a probiotic boost from things like storebought keifer or yogurt or even straight up "probiotic health supplement". But those kinds of things tend to be pricy, especially when you want to eat them up as much as I do. And while I <i>could</i> afford such things if I wanted to, it's times like these that cause me to wonder: "Could I make it at home for less than it costs to buy?" And the answer is generally Yes.<br />
<br />
Which begs the question "Why buy when you can make!"<br />
<br />
Actually, that was an exclamation.<br />
<br />
So, friends, that is what I did. A head of cabbage with the outer leaves intact, a tablespoon or so of salt and a little effort and waiting time and voila! Really healthy, teeming with good bacteria, very inexpensive and not to mention yummy sauerkraut! Tastes good and is good for you! And is cheap! It's a win, win, win.<br />
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So I mentioned that I've tried a few other things too. Let me tell you about them.<br />
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Have you heard of komboucha? Man is it good stuff. Basically, it's fermented sweet tea, but it's not very sweet once it's done fermenting. Because the yeast eats the sugar, and that's how it gets big and strong. It eats sugar so I don't have to! Wait...I like sugar. Nevermind....<br />
<br />
The thing with komboucha is that you need a "mother" or a "scoby" to start your own process. Once you've got one, you can reuse it and reuse it, plus it procreates so you can give ones to friends. But where do you get one to start? Tee, hee. Oh the cleverness of me.<br />
<br />
Actually, the cleverness of google searches. Or the cleverness of me to <i>use</i> google searching... Anyway.... <br />
<br />
First, I tried "where to get a komboucha scoby" and found places selling them: "I'll ship you a great komboucha scoby for the small price of $15.99 plus shipping!" Uh huh, no thanks. I'm trying to <i>save</i> money here. Then I tried, "How to make a komboucha scoby" Ahhhh, much better. It did involve a monetary investment, but a much smaller one. And no shipping needed. Did you know that you can buy raw komboucha at healthfood stores? It's not quite a mother komboucha, but it has the potential to become one!<br />
<br />
I went to natural foods store and found in their refrigerated section a 12 oz bottle of GT's raw komboucha, citrus flavoured for $3.50 (this is why I don't buy this stuff on a regular basis). Back at home, I brewed a couple cups of green tea, sweetened it about 1 tablespoon of sugar per cup and then let it cool to room temperature. I put it into a quart sized mason jar and proceeded to dump the entire contents of my bottle of komboucha into the jar. I covered it with a muslin cloth and rubberbanded it. Then I shoved it into a darkish corner of my kitchen (all corners of my kitchen are dark, actually.) and left it for about 10 days. Depending on the coolness of your house, the time can vary. When I checked back, there it was: a slimy skin about half a centimeter thick floating on the top of my jar. Yum. My own scoby.<br />
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I'm currently working on my first real batch of komboucha, I kind of don't know what I'm doing. Just following various tutorials on the internet. You too, can do this.... If you want. But I would recommend finding someone who knows what they're doing and has done it multiple times to learn from. Here's a pic of my experimentation:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX4_I8Ue741v0cumRmfBFVCl6ieg4SR9FNGsRTVY0jH6y1znPdNhD4G8zVbtFq4eq-YOdwutwW0Aac_F2OvENdpU-0FxfEEgDPsq3fHUYVrxj4jKmtthkELAWZ2vwszmVFjpwr2DTVFmY/s1600/PregnantpicsAndsomeStarters+011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX4_I8Ue741v0cumRmfBFVCl6ieg4SR9FNGsRTVY0jH6y1znPdNhD4G8zVbtFq4eq-YOdwutwW0Aac_F2OvENdpU-0FxfEEgDPsq3fHUYVrxj4jKmtthkELAWZ2vwszmVFjpwr2DTVFmY/s320/PregnantpicsAndsomeStarters+011.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note the scoby slime on top, which I accidentally disrupted while trying to get a photo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I'll let you know how it turns out in a couple weeks. Komboucha brewing is similar to beer brewing. It has a primary fermentation in the carboy (or in this case, the half gallon pitcher) and then a second fermentation in the bottle, where you add a bit of sugar in some form to prime it. Course, there's lots of differences too. Komboucha likes and needs lots of oxygen to stay alive, and for priming "sugar" most people use fruit juice, while beer needs to be kept in a completely airtight environment while it ferments and then needs some real, simple sugar (such as corn sugar) to get that secondary fermentation carbonation kick.<br />
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Please note John's beer in airlocked carboy. I'm really excited about this one:<br />
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It's a maple pale ale. He used maple sap instead of water for brewing it and he's going to use maple syrup instead of corn sugar to prime it. Nomsy. Can't wait for this baby to be born so I can get back to alcohol!<br />
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Just kidding. Sort of.<br />
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I kind of do miss beer, though.<br />
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And now that it's warm and springy dandelions will be popping their merry little blooms up and John and I are intending to go big on the dandelion wine making this year. A five gallon batch!<br />
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Isn't fermentation fun?<br />
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There's other stuff I'll be telling you about, I've got two sourdough starters going now. One is on the older side, it has the most pleasing aroma but I've noticed it's rising power is weak. While I want to fix that, I also thought I'd try a second one, for the heck of it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL9WmamPOMJUewexeXuPNbw8C46LCeS6Vdg-VNtRirSk82-NkB5LY4Y7nKA8czG_A0iHXryENaKfui-RKKqBWTWz-h6E44E3drtHyhUt91HcBc3Mfv030ONvEUJNpC9k_7b7RqkqvYQSA/s1600/PregnantpicsAndsomeStarters+009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL9WmamPOMJUewexeXuPNbw8C46LCeS6Vdg-VNtRirSk82-NkB5LY4Y7nKA8czG_A0iHXryENaKfui-RKKqBWTWz-h6E44E3drtHyhUt91HcBc3Mfv030ONvEUJNpC9k_7b7RqkqvYQSA/s320/PregnantpicsAndsomeStarters+009.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">left is my older, very yummy one, right is the newbie who is already bubbly and promising</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I'm making my own apple cider vinegar:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUi1kz9AsV9-9RsM4fw5nu0lG5dO6_9yRMhnDIK5_ezH_oxMdaSRFmN-wAjadDWpyYTAU2bWiefsdGWqgRVE5X025BqoLbstUv2ZL96pM0oUTxJqciJUXt5D1ccCSbQp5D04J_87ELo8Q/s1600/PregnantpicsAndsomeStarters+010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUi1kz9AsV9-9RsM4fw5nu0lG5dO6_9yRMhnDIK5_ezH_oxMdaSRFmN-wAjadDWpyYTAU2bWiefsdGWqgRVE5X025BqoLbstUv2ZL96pM0oUTxJqciJUXt5D1ccCSbQp5D04J_87ELo8Q/s320/PregnantpicsAndsomeStarters+010.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Put those apple cores to use, baby!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
And I made soda which is carbonated naturally by fermentation, and I plan to make yogurt sometime in the next couple weeks too. Maybe this blog will get a little love and you'll hear about it.Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-13372413820883707122012-01-09T10:53:00.001-08:002012-03-29T12:52:59.514-07:00Happy 2012! and some cool but unposted projects from 2011HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! 9 days in but that's definitely still new!<br />
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Well, I've been away for a couple months but that's no surprise, right?<br />
<br />
I guess Nanowrimo really used up my writing juices for awhile. But I'm getting back into it, updating my journal, finally responding to my letters and last but...probably not...well, maybe it is, least...this blog! It occurred to me that I did a lotta stuff last year that I totally intended to do a full on post about and never quite did. My apologies, you're missing out and it's all my fault.<br />
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Let me know if you would like a more detailed post of any of the following, and I'll be happy to oblige. <br />
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I made a nifty thrifty little purse using half a cloth place mat and a long length of ribbon. Easy-peasy. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFBpwvc4I73WCGsTmfMuY-6bBhSgF3a-6YE2FxtPE-nj9X7mIn8TuvGzDj8W6TQYk-LWhEGFfZ2EICh02CJb6lbofFWreZTi2hUYZ5FFjygxbnwtXlOGcmE2u8wFDEsoqeX8BqGvtE3w/s1600/BustleAndCraftsSummer2011+020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFBpwvc4I73WCGsTmfMuY-6bBhSgF3a-6YE2FxtPE-nj9X7mIn8TuvGzDj8W6TQYk-LWhEGFfZ2EICh02CJb6lbofFWreZTi2hUYZ5FFjygxbnwtXlOGcmE2u8wFDEsoqeX8BqGvtE3w/s320/BustleAndCraftsSummer2011+020.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love the colours. And the adorable clasp.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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Foodwise, I made my first (and second) turkey in 2011. It was delish and now I feel all empowered with this new ability. I'd recommend always brining one's turkeys. Unless you're going to deep fry it, now that I'd like to try next. Noms.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwjDNF3e9LmqMPYa_ceISEYhOLQE4674F2j0Qpi6CpvLyTFOQ2cB-Dt2bZeE_xWZUVZ996ub3s-2Vjzmk0as-MPP78eYb0kK-7g4Xv3ldeWS_qHO0mQ0jF2qhnMrIWCRWhEVnxE43UBpA/s1600/Flowers-refashions-food-fall2011+030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwjDNF3e9LmqMPYa_ceISEYhOLQE4674F2j0Qpi6CpvLyTFOQ2cB-Dt2bZeE_xWZUVZ996ub3s-2Vjzmk0as-MPP78eYb0kK-7g4Xv3ldeWS_qHO0mQ0jF2qhnMrIWCRWhEVnxE43UBpA/s320/Flowers-refashions-food-fall2011+030.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not the greatest photo, but the only one I have.</td></tr>
</tbody></table> I also made second place winning apple cinnamon rolls! Complete with whole wheat flour and deliciousness!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2yQacjjtjyXaMTfErVG4bVsPXc5d5xj4tAaKBrJUZUACvuVdHgqVf9QkDMORCXAqcIR3PC_LQd4KNRug-I66cFyMtnVw-_XiRXr0CKGI0BExVpu-WA1sgxYzpqWcUMvA6Zfm0R75mU_4/s1600/Flowers-refashions-food-fall2011+025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2yQacjjtjyXaMTfErVG4bVsPXc5d5xj4tAaKBrJUZUACvuVdHgqVf9QkDMORCXAqcIR3PC_LQd4KNRug-I66cFyMtnVw-_XiRXr0CKGI0BExVpu-WA1sgxYzpqWcUMvA6Zfm0R75mU_4/s320/Flowers-refashions-food-fall2011+025.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> And a first prize winning Pumpkin Pear trifle, my own recipe. This photograph is terrible but it's better than the other terrible photo I took. We were in a hurry to get to the baking contest at the church and a rushed photo is generally never all that great.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2qgPsFq87-5qvq_X0meZhLU4NgbM4MIr8n2moOAh9W_sYGl_t7pv3Ckzy_Gk7rCi0lPbgYXCMb8u9S1imQDIOCuu7HtJsemwsoItC_aEQu94-4Ms_HKevL5Vz_A4UOipMYVx2LhYNxVg/s1600/Flowers-refashions-food-fall2011+027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2qgPsFq87-5qvq_X0meZhLU4NgbM4MIr8n2moOAh9W_sYGl_t7pv3Ckzy_Gk7rCi0lPbgYXCMb8u9S1imQDIOCuu7HtJsemwsoItC_aEQu94-4Ms_HKevL5Vz_A4UOipMYVx2LhYNxVg/s320/Flowers-refashions-food-fall2011+027.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Crochet wise, I made a scarf and two cutie beret-style hats, which I unfortunately haven't taken pictures of. The scarf I already gave away as a Christmas present, foolish me. But I also made this awesome tea cozy, isn't it great!? I didn't have a pattern but it was pretty simple and it really works to keep my tea hot for longer!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT9rT4u0489cLTalFuGDjzYLgIF99vso7d_Hn54ke4fuXBA4AxYp_NDc5DirUCQ59JZB_DPAYKCXglkXj8Y2xzeDeB16ErX1KEkFHnxeCu1TlH66t0-4crtTiCNLirgx8_Q7LdwoSs244/s1600/Flowers-refashions-food-fall2011+067.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT9rT4u0489cLTalFuGDjzYLgIF99vso7d_Hn54ke4fuXBA4AxYp_NDc5DirUCQ59JZB_DPAYKCXglkXj8Y2xzeDeB16ErX1KEkFHnxeCu1TlH66t0-4crtTiCNLirgx8_Q7LdwoSs244/s320/Flowers-refashions-food-fall2011+067.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsAjOwkHnoGFJbPPvTXzaTwbpfi80VJ55on-NCS7BDAXRWJcz_pmAV7Hne0xOl1o8DwXX7iI517SlHj1HU7-tlqn7utEg-qBuFwUd38cBp61qUubvpcozee5KKdHIqySjQXB8v75tklv0/s1600/Flowers-refashions-food-fall2011+063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsAjOwkHnoGFJbPPvTXzaTwbpfi80VJ55on-NCS7BDAXRWJcz_pmAV7Hne0xOl1o8DwXX7iI517SlHj1HU7-tlqn7utEg-qBuFwUd38cBp61qUubvpcozee5KKdHIqySjQXB8v75tklv0/s320/Flowers-refashions-food-fall2011+063.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Herbalism adventures included making tons of extracts for using in cooking and a couple medicinal ones, the ones I can remember off the top of my head include Earl Grey tea, jasmine green tea, peppermint, rose, lavender, ginger, vanilla (duh, haha), yarrow and st. Johns wort.<br />
<br />
And herb vinegars too! A fire vinegar with ginger, garlic, thyme and cayenne pepper will knock the socks off of any cold or flu, and I made a pine vinegar which is tasty on salads and I'm considering doubling it's use as a cleaner...Blackberry and tarragon vinegars made it into my stock as well, this year. And <a href="http://themagicofseasonsandteatime.blogspot.com/2011/03/how-to-make-herb-infused-oils.html">herb infused olive oils</a> have been very handy for making salves, salad dressings and deodorants!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7eBhm7fKWd_CsZhHA5WwxKr283zTnc95pIyhmSDJuN6ibpn_tznhQaJNadfQAf7vO5RrXx0AwWaI5pt24_ce8KCirliI4NuHmqnXlaIo3tDHa9qUy1KjDUywvqg5Y92ZvCZZh5zJDCq0/s1600/Wine-Salve-ShellMirror-EndofSummer2011+047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7eBhm7fKWd_CsZhHA5WwxKr283zTnc95pIyhmSDJuN6ibpn_tznhQaJNadfQAf7vO5RrXx0AwWaI5pt24_ce8KCirliI4NuHmqnXlaIo3tDHa9qUy1KjDUywvqg5Y92ZvCZZh5zJDCq0/s320/Wine-Salve-ShellMirror-EndofSummer2011+047.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">oils</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgU18A9tEHtixNA2FS-z7e7PP_L1GxRxU-kdlfTwzoxLI2mFfnH_jZfcRxVVm2TtActXQqHKHUrBFKZoNw9GNn8JXxrG1JsjM5d_88Ptz-THh3v_jRJCY3gGFvNKQUycVcvQ2-APlm9-w/s1600/Wine-Salve-ShellMirror-EndofSummer2011+075.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgU18A9tEHtixNA2FS-z7e7PP_L1GxRxU-kdlfTwzoxLI2mFfnH_jZfcRxVVm2TtActXQqHKHUrBFKZoNw9GNn8JXxrG1JsjM5d_88Ptz-THh3v_jRJCY3gGFvNKQUycVcvQ2-APlm9-w/s320/Wine-Salve-ShellMirror-EndofSummer2011+075.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">fresh poured salves</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQEaQZJGAPsu3IM9VSe-Fr0tvIZr8rSrmJ2_D9szlyqpV4JtHcg6t7eagTQCPyHpNW4xrqY7lgc8CP89pB-fJk1lMxqzecV3hqixksuciHxX1JjShih8SJtiWREFScl4In06co7LOVTXg/s1600/Vinegar-beermaking-summerprojects2011+009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQEaQZJGAPsu3IM9VSe-Fr0tvIZr8rSrmJ2_D9szlyqpV4JtHcg6t7eagTQCPyHpNW4xrqY7lgc8CP89pB-fJk1lMxqzecV3hqixksuciHxX1JjShih8SJtiWREFScl4In06co7LOVTXg/s320/Vinegar-beermaking-summerprojects2011+009.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making fire vinegar</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpUeEBtDrkGrdQuLwXHM6JX5vDsCPDMevfm7kDuvS8CHOZAzEJw8TPQOQyVw4sdb8z7eSrWmabgs8nIbZX0pw4BecrV_ws7j1ecgPE0umnU_2xyElUrenv354ykCynp6PZ68a19MdkbFM/s1600/EarringsChristmasMushroomcakeWinter2011+040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpUeEBtDrkGrdQuLwXHM6JX5vDsCPDMevfm7kDuvS8CHOZAzEJw8TPQOQyVw4sdb8z7eSrWmabgs8nIbZX0pw4BecrV_ws7j1ecgPE0umnU_2xyElUrenv354ykCynp6PZ68a19MdkbFM/s320/EarringsChristmasMushroomcakeWinter2011+040.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The round up</td></tr>
</tbody></table> I've been trying my hand at making earrings too. Here's a couple photos of some of them. I made these with the intention to sell them, but only ended up selling one pair. I'm considering an etsy account, but maybe not just yet. What do you think of this style? <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMsfOB5pnBpfErE6mvoCfNPbtv66lM0Jkd7btgngjcHsogTbK9q7qk7QRpDI3B5ql8oGFD5PN9T2bjA_hMrktypJN-3WJXZPAol2vIHDEFYSsnS0xicDHs-LOUbLnU7TC4NCzIb1xZLo/s1600/EarringsChristmasMushroomcakeWinter2011+033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMsfOB5pnBpfErE6mvoCfNPbtv66lM0Jkd7btgngjcHsogTbK9q7qk7QRpDI3B5ql8oGFD5PN9T2bjA_hMrktypJN-3WJXZPAol2vIHDEFYSsnS0xicDHs-LOUbLnU7TC4NCzIb1xZLo/s320/EarringsChristmasMushroomcakeWinter2011+033.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue and Gold</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWNwi0b8RBZUjtdh-SH9HjBw1AkdSHEeTlnflvx2_iTq5x0yMocR9wqKd3262yupRpFshH693pSHGErWUeQ6HFpiQRj2rvItdFW3U9w9ACd2gSRSaqpeddpC90HihfEIFIKHYN-ISBthc/s1600/EarringsChristmasMushroomcakeWinter2011+030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWNwi0b8RBZUjtdh-SH9HjBw1AkdSHEeTlnflvx2_iTq5x0yMocR9wqKd3262yupRpFshH693pSHGErWUeQ6HFpiQRj2rvItdFW3U9w9ACd2gSRSaqpeddpC90HihfEIFIKHYN-ISBthc/s320/EarringsChristmasMushroomcakeWinter2011+030.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The pair I sold</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIQWtAdYkOUZi_9UyzSFUjjXW4UZUErAFsPvsIUtV4QUXPOonkZFbXQ8j0PuGRjrvhHbqYh3YoUakzbGfrytmJSNqzYdNh_4hK2_418Fy_U2h-1stZnYO9Pv_NNFx89CvYUUUxb_U2Ut4/s1600/EarringsChristmasMushroomcakeWinter2011+042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIQWtAdYkOUZi_9UyzSFUjjXW4UZUErAFsPvsIUtV4QUXPOonkZFbXQ8j0PuGRjrvhHbqYh3YoUakzbGfrytmJSNqzYdNh_4hK2_418Fy_U2h-1stZnYO9Pv_NNFx89CvYUUUxb_U2Ut4/s320/EarringsChristmasMushroomcakeWinter2011+042.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wedding earrings, get it? white lace, pearl and blue.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Well there's a lot more but time and space should be limiting me now.<br />
<br />
Here's to a happy new year filled with even more awesome projects and good food. Got any big plans this year?Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-74867762714901593242011-11-19T12:01:00.000-08:002011-11-19T12:01:18.038-08:00Never give up. Or, how Nanowrimo is maybe a little bit like a relationship.<i>tiny note. If you came to this blog post for the pumpkin spice latte recipe, then scroll all the way down to skip the crazed ramblings of a lunatic trying to compare writing a novel in a month to being married.</i> <br />
<br />
She stopped her frantic typing and dragged her hand down her face laughing dejectedly. " I have no idea what I'm doing right now...oh my gosh, this story is so lame...." <br />
<br />
...And welcome to what is commonly called the 12 days remaining blues. Or more likely, I just made that up.<br />
<br />
But apparently it's normal to go from thinking "I'm doing great, my story is really coming along, I'm ahead and this is going to be AWESOME!!!" to "this is crap, I can't even believe I'm still bothering to write in this loser of a novel." And yet, I keep writing. Our week three Nanowrimo pep talk came from Chris Cleave, a writer I've never heard of before. He wrote (among other things,) this, to encourage us:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">The more I learn about the writing process, the more I suspect that there is no such thing as a bad day at the keyboard. Sometimes you need slow days where you work through a dozen ideas that aren’t destined to fly.</blockquote>And he went on to say:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">The good days are when you perform; the slow days are when you learn to perform better. The only bad days as a writer are the ones when you are too cowardly or too lazy to sit down at the keyboard and give it everything you have. </blockquote>This is why I won't give up this hacked up piece of work. I won't stop to try starting a new more miraculous story. I won't allow myself to continue on the line of thought that this story simply wasn't ready to be written and I really ought to simply delve into another work of fiction that's been stewing in my mind lately. No, no no! I will reach 50,000 words before the end of this month, I will I will I will!!!!!<br />
<br />
Even if the only thing that this novel writing month activity produces is a better writer (as opposed to an awesome publish worthy novel) then it will have not been for naught.<br />
<br />
I'm kind of seeing writing a novel for <a href="http://nanowrimo.org/">Nanowrimo</a> like falling in love and getting married. You start the whole process and it's electric and exciting. It pervades your thoughts at all times. You can't <i>wait</i> to get back to writing. Words are flying and things are wonderful. You and your novel are soul mates!<br />
<br />
But then you get to know it. You see it's faults and the whole not-so-great-shebang that it is. The more time you spend with your novel, the more you see that it's really just regular, no more special than any other novel you've written or read. In fact, it's probably worse. A lot worse. The characters are all flawed and some of them are doing really, <i>really</i> dumb things. They've taken on problems bigger than they can fix and they're kind of getting under your skin. But you can't go back, because now you're committed. It's half way through the month and to try and find a new more exciting story to write would be very foolish, and very unfair to this novel, as well. Even though that story about alternative early America <i>does</i> sound super awesome and success-worthy, you can't go and try it out while you're committed to <i>this</i> story for November. Now it's not exciting or easy or even going very well, but you can't stop, because you've made this choice. You have to stick to it. You've promised this novel and your love is no longer an option, it's a necessity. You've got to write in it every day if you want this Nanowrimo thing to work! Nanowrimo is hard work, but it's very worth it.<br />
(Right, isn't that what people always say about <a href="http://themagicofseasonsandteatime.blogspot.com/2011/03/soapbox-sundays-marriage-isnt-as-hard.html">marriage</a>?)<br />
<br />
Okay, my illustration may be stretching it a little. Because this is really nothing like how <i>my</i> experience of love and marriage as been. It's quite possible that lots of people <i>do</i> have marriages like that - no longer a breeze, or exciting or heart-pounding and passionate and they actually have to remind themselves of their vows because they think their spouse is so lame and not worth their time that they wonder why they haven't hit the road yet to find someone new and exicitng.... I'm sorry for them, but if they keep sticking to it even after all that, props to them, they're probably better people than I'll ever be. <br />
<br />
Because mine is nothing like this. I don't think I could ever possibly find a guy as amazing, wonderful, and awesome as John. We no longer spend whole days making out any more (well, not usually, anyway) and yeah, <i>maybe</i> I'd prefer if John played less video games sometimes. But I know that if I looked for someone else, they'd have some annoying habit too. Everyone's got something wrong with them. (Because we're all sinners and no one except Jesus is perfect.) You pick the bad habits you're willing to put up with...Or rather, you pick the person whose bad habits you're willing to put up with. Like Bob Marley said "Truth is, everyone's gonna hurt you; you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for." Really, video games are a whole lot more preferable to me than <i>some</i> people's flaws. And I actually did know before I said my vows, that John was super duper into video games and I'm (mostly) okay with it. Even with John's video game habit, I still find him the most wonderful guy I've ever met. He's hot and super sweet and forgives a multitude of my own sins and annoying habits. (like asking him to do something he's about to do, which I HONESTLY did not realize he was about to do, but he doesn't believe me. And if he did that to me, I'd probably kill him, because that is seriously annoying.) Soooo....<br />
<br />
Somehow this update on my Nanowrimo progress turned into a dissertation on marriage and how it really is nothing like writing a novel during National Novel Writing month....At least from my own perspective of falling in love and getting married. In fact, I <i>wish</i> my experience with this current novel were more like my own marriage, because then I'd be only slightly annoyed or less than satisfied with it some of the time rather than wanting to punch it in the metaphorical face!<br />
Current word count: 35,010<br />
We'll see if I can keep this average up for the next 12 days. pffftttt.<br />
<br />
One good thing about today, at least is that I made a Pumpkin Spice latte. And it was awesome. Here are some pictures to prove it.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUSZ1EoBWFpeE_6S7cJ6no5Dx_Zpy5jodeorZ40i1jvglUBsPS3aWmwv2LfBtCCshBBXREc_YLDcwdjCIvlRSWbY_dzXwfD5yYP5hfyymoPJesi0wt9zFzHBrGyl7pvx3e6GTeP_FH6TQ/s1600/PumpkinLatteFall2011+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUSZ1EoBWFpeE_6S7cJ6no5Dx_Zpy5jodeorZ40i1jvglUBsPS3aWmwv2LfBtCCshBBXREc_YLDcwdjCIvlRSWbY_dzXwfD5yYP5hfyymoPJesi0wt9zFzHBrGyl7pvx3e6GTeP_FH6TQ/s400/PumpkinLatteFall2011+005.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>I kind of did my own thing to make a Pumpkin syrup and then added it to Jim's Organic Coffee Holiday blend flavour along with some heated milk and some freshly made whipped cream. It was delicious. So good in fact, that John claimed it "barely even tastes like coffee!" it was that good. I used these two recipes as guides and inspiration. (there were others, but I can no longer find them.)<br />
<a href="http://www.savvyeat.com/improved-coffee-shop-pumpkin-syrup/">Pumpkin Syrup</a> by SaavyEat<br />
and<br />
<a href="http://www.fullmeasureofhappiness.com/2011/10/09/pumpkin-spice-latte/">Pumpkin Spice Latte</a> by A Full Measure of Happiness (whose blog I totally love)<br />
<br />
I put a lot of cardamom in mine and it made it taste very chai-ish. Which I loved. It made my crappy writing day a little better. Hope it makes yours a little better too. Cheers.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd5zSzxos1Q_QwPKjyGalSqJMdogykng3lpHCbYYlRQ_tM-j5_6EqGObtKV1IKh3TRa20QeVLVPhGWq-xgVnE3hptEQY2QU7k6OiZF7pyRqeKGIf2rWMw9P4gw5aTt5MrESrfug0KIlb4/s1600/PumpkinLatteFall2011+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd5zSzxos1Q_QwPKjyGalSqJMdogykng3lpHCbYYlRQ_tM-j5_6EqGObtKV1IKh3TRa20QeVLVPhGWq-xgVnE3hptEQY2QU7k6OiZF7pyRqeKGIf2rWMw9P4gw5aTt5MrESrfug0KIlb4/s400/PumpkinLatteFall2011+003.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-8444612977345666382011-11-14T08:59:00.000-08:002011-11-14T09:03:05.803-08:00Is email a thing of the past?<i>Caution: This may get a little ranty</i>.<br />
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So about a month ago I deactivated my facebook because I felt it was encouraging superficial and shallow relationships amongst other things. I decided that from now on, when I want to get in touch with someone I'd call them or write them a real email, one with substance and quality. And I have several friends with whom I correspond using real mail also, so that's great. But I'm not much of a phone-caller. Unless it's a to the point phone call to establish some meeting or verify information I find phone calls a little awkward and they tend to make my ears get irritated. There's a few people I make the effort for and I really ought to try more on this, but really a letter or a real life hang out are better for me.<br />
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Sometimes, though, hanging out in real life is not possible and most people I know wouldn't have the time or self discipline to really have a snail-mail correspondence, so I don't expect it of them. Instead, I'll use email. Right? It's quick to type up something and sooooo easy. Everyone checks their email every day! Some people check it multiple times, supposedly. I mean...I probably check mine at least 3 times a week and maybe even a little more since I don't have a facebook account anymore. So this should be a great way to keep in touch, right? In the past few weeks I've thought of several people I wanted to re-establish relationships with or just thought I'd send them a nice email to stay in touch....<br />
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And not a single one has responded...<br />
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I understand that whole "I am so happy to get an email from this person and I want to respond but I don't have time right now, so I will later..." And then forgetting until a couple days later... But this has been a few weeks now. It makes me wonder. Does anyone even check their email anymore? Maybe I've sent these emails and no one has even seen them because they only look at their facebooks... Could it be? Is email a thing of the past?<br />
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Maybe in order to actually keep in touch with people I'll need to reactivate my facebook. I shudder to think of it. Facebook is a tool that can be used properly or improperly. Unfortunately, since everyone is connected you are subjugated to everyone's views on how it should be used. If one person feels that their facebook is the place where you badmouth your friends even though you'd never say anything of the sort to their face or if they think it's where they hold their family feud, yes their family and friends see it, but so do I. And I kinda don't want to. If someone feels that facebook is where you express your dislike of all your self-portraits (you know, the kind where you obviously just snapped some random nasty photo of yourself to immediately upload for everyone in the world to see), then I have to see that person's self-loathing too, even though I disagree.<br />
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In my personal opinion *insert pompous attitude here*, facebook should not be the place where you air your life's problems and how much you hate the world, or tell people how great your boobs look or even update everyone on the humdrum moments of every minute of your life. You wouldn't include stuff like that in a phone call or email, would you? My facebook friends pool was small. I limited it to 42 people and a large margin of that number were family. Immediate family, even. And yet, since I had to see what <i>their</i> friends were saying, I felt like I was being informed of everything ever, and some of it I didn't want to know. Plus, seeing strange boys outrageously flirt with my sisters and then claiming no they weren't flirting, they just wanted my sister to know she had super hot legs, was really irritating. And I also didn't want to see all those hot prima-donna photos my little sisters were posting for all kinds of weirdos to see. It's still happening, but at least I'm not seeing it. And don't even get me started about...right, nevermind. Should not be aired on the internet, right? Just, the amount of people I deleted because friends of their friends of friends and so on and so forth were just nasty and creepy.<br />
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So I feel like I'm suddenly out of the loop. I do have this blog so those of my <i>real</i> fans (lol) can still see what I'm up to (when I actually post.) But since no one ever comments to tell me what they think or how they've been doing...(excuse me while I stop to cry *sob, sob.*) I don't really know what anyone else is up to. Except the people I really keep in touch with, i.e my family, whom I call occasionally, and the people I see on a regular basis. And the four people I write real-mail letters to, of course (You guys are awesome, I love you!)<br />
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So how about it everyone? Let's just go back to simple ol' email! And while you're at it, write me back!<br />
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<i>dislcaimer: I am not targeting anyone specifically with this rant (with the exception of Priscilla. You shouldn't be posting such hot photos of your self for all kinds of weirdos to see!). If, however you get guilt-tripped into writing me an email all the better! Heck, even a comment on my blog would cheer me up.</i>Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8997382258521973071.post-8193449508866966072011-11-11T06:56:00.000-08:002011-11-12T15:25:03.256-08:00Novelling update or, how much I love Nanowrimo. (Also, autumn!)Allow me to ramble about my novel for a bit, will ya?<br />
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One of the things about <a href="http://nanowrimo.org/en">Nanowrimo</a> is that it gets your story out whether or not it's <i>really</i> ready. Sometimes that's good and sometimes its bad. For me, I think this is good. I tend to get caught up in time lines and how much of past should I put in and how can I incorporate flashbacks, and blah blah. And then I never seem to actually write the derned story. Nanowrimo encourages simply hacking out what you have, what you know and allowing room for improvisation as you go. And so far, I feel it's been working out really well for me.<br />
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I have parts of my story that are completely backwards. I changed my mind about a semi-huge aspect about 4 chapters ago and decided to simply go along with the story as though this is the way it's been all along. I simply added a note up near the beginning where the guy asks the girl to marry him that, no he actually doesn't do this at this time and we'll fix that later. (Funny enough, it was one of the huge exciting moments in my story way back then when I needed lots of motivation to keep it going. I liked it so much I used it as the excerpt to show off my novel.) So now, as I write and I decide "You know what, this guy actually <i>has</i> done this, or that and not this. And this portion isn't so great...." but one of the main rules of Nanowrimo is to NEVER delete anything. I am very impulsive at times about my writing. I revise as I go, editing and frequently deleting and simply rewriting. So the parts I have are oh so perfect and the rest is never done because I realize I needed to actually <i>not</i> have that proposal scene there but oh-my-gosh it's so well written how could i ever delete that amazingness???!!!! <br />
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Thank goodness for Nanowrimo and the deadline and the enormous goal that prevents me from having the <i>time</i> to go back and do these horrible things to myself. That proposal scene is pretty good, but it's not perfect. And since it's not deleted, or revised in anyway yet, I'll have the time later when I'm not hurriedly tapping out 50,000 words to really mull over it and figure it out and what I should do with it. Can it be recycled? Easily changed to fit the new and improved story version? We'll see!<br />
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In the meantime, I've decided to not be afraid to really change it up if I have to. I can always go back later and put together all these puzzle pieces I've written for myself, right? Right! I simply put notes beside the places I know will eventually need to be changed and guess what's also awesome? Those notes are adding to my word count! Is that like cheating or what?<br />
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LOVE IT.<br />
But here's what you really wanted to know...<br />
Word count update as of 11/11/11: 19,337.<br />
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I hope to get to 20,000 later on today. You know, to really celebrate that whole 111111 thing. <br />
Anyone doing anything fun for this special date?<br />
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Okay, now that I'm done with that love letter to Nanowrimo for helping me get out what I think might be one of my best stories ever, I'll update you on other things that I love.<br />
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Autumn! Heart, heart, heart. This is shaping up to be a glorious autumn. The colours have been madly different. I never knew so many shades of brown could look so glorious together! And these crazy lime-greeny yellows! I apologize that my writing has kept me from really taking many pictures but I have a few here for you to gaze at in gazemazement. (a little Strongbad reference fer ya, there.)<br />
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Aren't my woods beautiful?Christianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15957434735310008107noreply@blogger.com0