Happy fifth of July!

In my “tribe” there are three of us with July birthdays. The beginning of July is also the approximate anniversary of the closing on my house and those long, sweltering, messy weekend trips to it to paint bedrooms. And then, of course, there is the Fourth of July. So I thought it was high time to throw a party.

Do you feel festive yet?

There was a birthday trifle, loosely based on Battenberg cake. This is yellow cake (some of it dyed pink) with vanilla whipped cream, strawberry-rhubarb jam, marzipan, and fresh raspberries. Mmmm. There was also, sadly unphotographed, a staggering turtle (as in chocolate, caramel, and pecans) cheesecake.

And cornbread… and fried chicken… and green tomato pickle. Mm.

We tried to eat out on the deck, where the morning glories are going wild and giving a pleasant jungle atmosphere to things, but it was just too hot and eventually we retreated to the Great Indoors.

And I even got a birthday present. This is a cut crystal snuffbox with a silver repousse lid (and the box it came in–tee hee). Someone has me pegged.

Come out of the garden, Maude

Phew. Let’s go indoors for a while. All of that sunshine is getting to be a bit much.

There are plenty of pretties to look at indoors, though. Last night, in one of what’s becoming a long run of sleepless nights, I found my ribbon box. Awwww. They’re all so cute! And just imagine all of the ridiculously adorable things that can be done with them–birthday presents tied up, kittens decorated, little girl’s dresses adorned, hand-knit sweater bindings reinforced. The possibilities are endless.

And then I found more ribbon,

And then I found more. These three are extra-wide and extra-special. I think these are appropriate only, really, for tying up birthday packages–don’t you think?

Also there has, mysteriously, come to be yet another pile of fabric in my craft room. Where CAN it have come from??? Such mysteries. This will be another quilt, though, possibly another queen-size quilt, possibly the Radio Flyer design from Miss Rosie’s Quilt Collection… or possibly something else entirely. I just don’t know yet. I only know that these fabrics are absolutely edible.

And I don’t feel guilty about these new mysterious pile of fabric, because sleepless nights mean that this…

Is turning into this.

All right already!

I have zucchini, and not cucumbers! Gee. What’s a little confusion among cucurbitaceae?

I think it’s less embarassing than last summer’s gaffe, in which I was absolutely sure that a pansy was a sweet pea–just because I had planted sweet peas in that pot. I eventually conceded the point.

Here’s a picture of Pudding to distract you.

Thar she blows

Behold:

In another exciting development, a commenter thinks that my “cucumbers” are zucchini. I do hope she’s right! Yes, I planted zucchini, and cucumbers too–only one hill germinated, and I had thought it was in the cucumber’s spot. I hope I was wrong!

The garden news, July 1, evening

To be redundant… “and the garden bloomed and bloomed, and new miracles happened every day.”

Bug shot!

A better shot of the forget-me-nots

The gladiolus have had their leaves at full mast for months, but, bless their hearts, they’re doing something different now…

Tomorrow morning, I’ll have a PINK morning glory!

The cucumbers are OUT OF CONTROL!

July!

Ah, July. July July July! July is my month–my birthday is in July. I’ve always felt that the Fourth of July was my own personal holiday… that midsummer’s firefly-speckled glory was especially for me… that red, white and blue are my sunshine colors… in short, that life is sweet at this time of the year. Swimming, picnics, sweet corn, strawberries, and sunshine. Excellent.

The morning glories are beginning to come into their own. Here is the dwarf variety I planted, which was supposed to come in pinks and lavenders also, but only the blue have bloomed. Aren’t they lovely? Next summer I may plant only these–the regular morning glories are getting out of hand.

This is the only regular variety that is blooming yet. Just look at that shade of purple. I haven’t been able to get a clematis going, but I’m getting my purple fix right here. I go outside to look at them before work, while I’m eating breakfast.

I have them growing in planters beneath the bench seats on my deck. I had hoped they would drape over the edge of the deck, creating a wall all around it. They have other ideas, though. They’re growing right up through the seats.

In other news, the shasta daisies are getting ready to bloom like mad.

And the forget-me-nots, bless their little hearts, already are. They are waist-high. I never expected them to grow so well.

And to complete my personal triumvirate of colors–the red snapdragons are recovering from whatever ailed them, and beginning to bloom, even the ones I bought in March that got frostbitten.

The garden news, June 27

I have heard reports that some airports are hanging signs above the area just past security–you know, where there’s a table and chairs–that say “Recombobulation Area”. I think that’s awesome. I have been home from my Grand Tour of family homesites for a few days now, so I think that I am sufficiently recombobulated to resume blogging.

The garden is flourishing. This end of the perennial bed looks so good that… I’m showing you a picture of the whole thing, instead of closeups of whatever looks good at the moment. The Canterbury Bells are gathering their energy for a second bloom, the foxglove has sent up short secondary stalks of blossoms, and the pinks are going crazy. I was down on them, earlier in the season, but they’ve taken off in the warm weather and it’s all love for them, all the time, now.

This other end of the perennial bed is less impressive. This is where everything that arrived this Spring was planted (as opposed to the other end which is full of Fall-planted stuff). Things are blooming, even thriving, but it’s a feeble first-year garden. It will look much better next summer.

Lupins are blooming, though! Boy howdy hooray!

The darling pinks (Sparroweye was right–what I thought were pincushion mums are actually another variety of dianthus. So where, I ask, are the pincushion mums?)

The achillea/yarrow is doing well, too. Its blossoms fade as they age. At the moment, this is providing a pleasant mottled red and coral-pink effect.

And, squeeeee!!! The forget-me-nots are blooming! These are Chinese forget-me-nots, and aren’t quite as precious as the wild ones by my parents’ stream, but oh how happy they make me. There is a big thick knot of them at one edge of the seed bed.

And in the vegetable and herb bed…

I’m going to have baby tomatoes. What a relief.

Baby cucumbers, too. Or are these zucchini…? Who can tell?

Whatever this plant is, it gets visibly larger every day. I’m afraid of it.

The sweet peppers I am not so sure about. Are these blossoms or fruit? I dunno.

The chamomile is going bonkers (as are the parsley and dill)

And here is the newest, tiniest, and most precious addition to the garden. This, my friends, is the most popular climbing rose of all time–the most beautiful–the most ethereal. Pierre de Ronsard, also known as the Eden Climber. Check it out.

Meme

1) What was I doing 10 years ago?
I had just graduated from high school and was spending the summer working in a shop, waiting to leave for college.

2) What are 5 things on my to-do list for today?
Pick up prescriptions
Go to bellydance class
Remember to bring milk to work, so I can enjoy my coffee
Water the garden
Have lunch with a friend

3) Snacks I enjoy:
Hummus with veggies or pita
Wasabi peas
Cookies and milk (eeee!)

4) Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
Buy one house in Oxfordshire and one on Key West
Quit my job
Give $10 million each to some select friends
Collect netsuke

5) Places I have lived:
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Wichita, Kansas
Fort Wayne, Indiana
West Lafayette, Indiana
(and where I live now…)

6) Jobs I have had:
Store clerk
Library clerk
Research assistant
Teaching assistant
Postdoctoral scholar
Consultant in (field of specialization)
(full time job in field of specialization)

Stonehedge Fiber Mill

Located a pleasant distance from the Perfect Cabin is Stonehedge Fiber Mill, where wool is produced, and sheared, and cleaned, and carded, and spun, and dyed, and sold. These people don’t miss a single step.

There is an enormous amount of river rock in the soil around here. It is the material of choice for landscape edging and, in the 19th century, for building. Here is a stone barn,

and here is a stone church.

At Stonehedge, the welcoming committee was waiting for us.

We saw where the wool is washed and dried and weighed,

and where it is carded.

This is the second carding machine featured on this blog in less than a month. It was about 1/6th the size of the antique, but every bit as Steampunk-esque. They build these, if you’re in the market for one.

Roving has more than one use, did you know? Please don’t tell Pudding that I petted this cat. She wouldn’t understand.

The roving is further combed and straightened

then it is spun and plied. This machine impressed me, also… I have seen ones like it in books about Victorian thread factories.

Stonehedge also takes in jobs from other producers. Here are cones of singles, fresh from a certain favorite dyer of mine, all ready to be plied.

When the yarn is all finished, it is sold in the tiny yarn shed on the property… or on the Stonehedge web site. This yarn is lovely and earthy, the colors deep, and if you buy the “almost handspun”, they can tell you what sheep it came from.

Baaaaaaah!

A walk in the woods

I am in The Sticks again, visiting my parents. Last time I was here, there was about a foot of snow outside, and it was deer hunting season, so I spent most of my time and blogging effort indoors. Now, however, it is Springtime–ah, Spring. Spring in the woods. I really love woods; I live on the prairie now, and I can tell you, I love the woods and I miss them.

Whose woods these are, I think I know.

The road not taken.

The perfect cabin’s driveway is protected by a perfect gate, which we hopped over…

… after taking time to examine the miniature landscape growing on top of it…

… which included this strange moss/fungus/slime mold, one of three things that I have always been fond of…

… and populated by Mr. Caterpillar here. Unfortunately, Mr. Caterpillar is a tentworm, so we didn’t stick around to chat.

At this time of year, the woods are filled with many kinds of flowers….

… and a few toadstools.

We passed by the edge of a lake,

and by many mossy stumps. I am fond of mossy stumps, too.

Large dragonflies that flap their wings like butterflies flitted back and forth, across our path. It was easy to imagine they were fairies…

… and that we were hobbits, especially as rain began to fall and we pulled up our hoods.

On the way home, the rain stopped and the sun came out. I decided to follow the path…

That leads to the river.

Hundreds of forget-me-nots were blooming by the water. One of my very favorite flowers.

Yipes!

Of red-ripe strawberries resting in her minty-blue colander, Alicia says “Yipes! Is that pretty!”

Yipes indeed. I do love strong, bright, clear colors and I do love summer fruit and I do love kitchen gadgets in novelty colors. A trifecta of adoration. Le sigh.

Yipes to the American Pie quilt, which is slowly taking shape. I have sewn one of the two corner accents onto each of the big squares. It’s good. It’s gonna get better. Stay tuned.

And yipes to Pudding Darling, who gave me the opportunity to take this perfect shot. An open window and lots of yarn; what can she possibly want for Christmas?

Cynicism

Ah, the garden. Is any cynicism not premature?

The day after I complained about the lupines… a flower.

I think this is a pincushion chrysanthemum. I have a red one, too.

Tomato flowers

Sweet pepper flowers

Something mysterious budding in the seed bed

Something else mysterious budding in the seed bed

Cute/Sweet

In the whirl of social activity, it had somehow come to pass that I hadn’t looked at a single magazine yet this year. Six issues of Martha Stewart Living and six issues of Country Living were piled on my coffee table, touched by guests but not by myself. Something had to be Done.

There was a little blurb about Alicia Paulson of Posy Gets Cozy, congratulations Alicia! Your blog is, for sheer eye candy, my very favorite ever. I have been wandering around my house, trying to figure out why mine isn’t that cute.

Martha Stewart was once quoted as saying, “I don’t need eight houses. I want eight houses.” I feel that way sometimes, too. I would like to have a Craftsman-style bungalow. I would like to have an adorable Shabby Chic cottage. I would like an English Country house in Oxfordshire. I’d like a white tropical beauty on Key West, shaded by enormous palms and with the interior walls all painted dreamy pale blue. Alas, like most of us, I have to settle for just one home, and do one thing with it. And the English look seems to have won, for the most part, with some parts Country and some parts City. And I do love my house. I do.

In other news, one of the piles of fabric from yesterday has been reduced to 5.5″ squares. All of these will be put together into an American Pie quilt, finished size 50″ x 50″, a lap quilt, just right to throw over the pink wing chair in my bedroom. Totally English Country.

Fabric dreams

I have had the de-cluttering bug since yesterday evening. I re-organized the containers of things on my deck, I cut back the Spring bulb greenery, I organized my sewing table, I cleared off my dining table… and I want to use up some of this fabric that has been sitting around for years. I have three cases:

This is not such a hard case. After looking through Miss Rosie’s Quilt Collection, I’ve decided that these green prints and white-on-whites are destined to be an American Pie quilt. I’m itching to start cutting the pieces–good thing I cleared off my sewing table last night!

These adorable assorted prints were bought just for the sheer joy of them. I am now thinking that perhaps I should make cutie-patootie baby dresses out of them, to give away and to sell on Etsy.

And lastly this lovely spread, which I showed you on the Fourth of July last year. Hmmmm. Possibilities… possibilities… I just don’t know quite what these would be good for. Mixed with white-on-whites for a gorgeous summery quilt? Even more cute little-girl dresses? Napkins for Fourth of July picnics? Eating? Do you think I could eat these? Because I’d like to.

The garden news

Summer is in full swing. The temperature has been above 80 everyday for two weeks, now, so if things are every going to get going–they’ve got going now.

I cannot love on these lantana enough. What a wonderful plant. What a wonderful flower.

Some of my snapdragons are doing very well, and others aren’t. It’s almost like the saucer planters got a fungus–the plants are stunted and won’t bloom.

Oh well, at least I still have some to enjoy.

Each of my three shasty daisy plants is now crowned with a single bud. They’re quite comical.

The pinks have taken hold…

Oh, how they have taken hold. What a relief, after having them eaten down so severely early in the season.

The mystery plant, with espresso-cup-sized flowers, turns out to be a second variety of Canterbury Bells. It’s comical next to the tiny starry purple ones (which are now mostly finished for the season–along with my foxglove, alas).

The achillea is peeking at me. It will take its sweet time coming into full flower, though.

Now for bad news: the delphiniums, hollyhocks, and lupines are being eaten down so badly that I am sure they will not flower. The sage and lavender are so small and ill-established that they won’t do very much this year, either. Also, my tomatoes and peppers are not doing so well as I should hope, given that bloggers in Ohio are already seeing fruit set. This may be because they are shaded for the last few hours of the day by a pesky, pesky tree about which I have no special feelings. I may have a tree-less back yard in my future.

Planning

Let us put the eye candy up front, in this post.

I heart lantana

Oh how I heart lantana

I wish I could remember what this plant was. It is as tall as the foxglove and, like the foxglove, fell over in the storm. Its flowers are enormous… I would say that dolls could use them for teacups, or humans use them to drink Turkish coffee.

The numerous achillea plants are budding, hooray! I can hardly wait to be reminded of what colors I bought.

And I finally mulched and caged the vegetable bed, props to me. Having started with four tomatoes, three pepper plants, and two eggplants, I now have five tomato plants, two pepper plants, and zero eggplants. The tomatoes have been victims of the winds, and I have lost plants because their main stems were snapped in two. I have replaced them enthusiastically and easily (because the garden center is still stocking them, unlike the other two) and ended up with, I hope, five. One pepper plant was nipped off at the base by a very naughty critter who, I hope, learned a lesson from the experience. Both eggplant were also eaten by animals–though to tell the truth they looked none too healthy beforehand anyway.

As this year’s garden is really getting into gear (several inches of rain last week… yes you heard right, INCHES!, and now it’s hot and sunny so things will really start to grow), I am learning my lessons from this year’s mistakes and making a more careful plan for next year. Here are my main points:

1. Buy vegetable plants at the garden center instead of ordering them from Burpee. I’m going to have to replace half the stuff I put in anyway, and the garden center has a pretty rockin’ selection of interesting heirloom varieties–especially if you hit it in that sweet spot right in the middle of May.

2. Forget trying to grow anything, except possibly morning glories and cucumbers, from seed. It just isn’t worth it. I have just chucked the sweet peas as non-starters and the zucchini–yes you heard me right the zucchini–never even came up. The seed part of the perennial bed is an unmulched, weed-ridden headache. Fuggedaboudit.

3. I must try harder to control the color palette on my deck. Right now, the place is a riot of mismatched hues, and it doesn’t make me happy. Next summer? Focus on pink and orange, allowing modest forays in bits of yellow, hot red, and flaming magenta.

4. I must figure out something else to do with morning glories. I will probably seed them directly into the back of the vegetable bed, and let them grow up bamboo supports.

5. Move all of the achillea to the front of the perennial bed, so that I can fill in the back with things that are actually tall.

After the storm

This little fellow, who lives ever-so-tentatively along the back of my perennials bed, must have been having a very nasty time of it recently. We have had incredible thunder and lightning and downpours of rain almost every night this week. On Tuesday, they even put off the tornado sirens twice–though I think nothing touched down.

It has been very hard on the foxglove. I suppose I should have had the foresight to stake them. Oh well, you live, you learn. A few of the stalks are still semi-upright. The ones that fell over completely, I clipped and brought inside to make a bouquet.

They look ever-so-picturesque in a vase by my bedside.

Unfortunately, this bouquet cannot stay by my bedside, nor in any other readily-visible place, as far as I can figure out. Foxglove is also called digitalis… digitalis is the source of digitoxin… and digitoxin is very poisonous. I don’t want Pudding to get to the bouquet and nibble it, not even a little bit.

I mean, look at that chin. You’d look out for her, too, if she was yours. So… dunno what to do with the foxglove except toss it out. Or maybe give it to someone who doesn’t have pets.

In other news, I’ve got a new baby, and it’s totally 80s. Not like computers actually looked in the 80s, but the way people would have wanted them to look. I mean, this is Tron-caliber cool.

Packed lunch no. 1

Heeeeere it is:

Spinach salad with strawberries, mango, and poppyseed dressing. Squid sauteed with garlic and chili. Key lime rice pudding.

The napkin you may remember as being part of the chocolate service from last summer. The bag is made from additional Bleeker Street fabrics, just made up out of my head. Too entirely cute. The whole office will be scoffing at me, tomorrow. And secretly jealous.

Pudding is applying her little walnut-brain to the problem of packing a helping of fuzzy-kitty-belly in the lunch bag.

Forever Summer

I have spent a significant chunk of today curled up with Nigella Lawson’s book Forever Summer. It’s full of exactly the kind of fresh, flavorful stuff that I want to be cooking at this time of year. The mizuna and squid salad? Oh yes, ohhhh yes, we’re trying that very very soon. We certainly are.

Today, though, I made her thai crumbled beef wraps. This is lovely stuff, spicy and sour and sweet. Really, is there anything that limes don’t improve? Key lime rice pudding, lime in ground beef, and I think that tonight I’d better have a gin and tonic made with Rangpur-style gin.

As I flipped through the book, I felt temporarily disheartened by the number of recipies that use fresh herbs. It’s so hard to buy them and keep them fresh and use most of them in time… and then I remembered, hel-lo, I have an herb garden. Duh. So I pranced outside and picked some fresh cilantro for these.

The foxglove is beyond dreamy. I go outside just to look at it.

Key Lime Rice Pudding

Happy June. I like June–it is summer, but not yet the searing, blinding kind of summer. Just the happy, carefree, picnics-and-swimming kind of summer. Three cheers for summer!

This happy weather makes me want to do three things. Two of them are (1) sew, and (2) cook something really good to eat, full of flavor and freshness and light.

Well, rice pudding doesn’t quite fit all of those criteria, but I had a reason for it. I am planning to start packing my lunch for work pretty often, and I have all kinds of packed lunches planned out, one of which is a “Key West lunchbox” with spinach salad and fruit and grilled shrimp. What this lunch needed was key lime something and a little bit more carbohydrate. Hel-lo, wouldn’t some tiny key lime pie tarts be perfect? Yes, I thought so too. Unfortunately, tart shells are almost impossible to get, here. And I still have issues with the idea of cutting up a Pillsbury pie crust to make my own. And the tarts are unlikely to travel well in a lunchbox. Hmmmmm… problems problems.

Thus, somehow, I came to the conclusion that I needed to invent key lime rice pudding.

One cup arborio rice

One pint half-and-half. Set to cook on medium-low heat.

Meanwhile, set to your key limes. What you see here is one bag of them, and I juiced them all. By the way–a citrus press is necessary for handling these because they’re so tiny. I have been told that garlic presses work like a charm, too, but only if you never ever use your key lime garlic press for garlic.

Time warp!

Just for good measure, because too much is never enough when it comes to limes, add the zest of one real lime to the juice.

By this time, your rice should be very nearly cooked. Add all of the juice and zest to it, as well as one egg yolk. Stir madly until it’s all incorporated.

Then add half a cup of sugar, or perhaps a little more to taste.

Mmmmmm. Isn’t it pretty? I do miss the graham cracker crust, but all in all… this is good rice pudding. It’s nice and zingy and makes my mouth pucker. Maybe I can include some crushed-up graham crackers in my lunch box, to make up for the missing crust.

Key lime rice pudding. You can, and you definitely should.