garden chores and speaking to bees~

Peas, garlic and salad greens have given up their space for winter squashes, beans and melons.  This is my first year growing in raised beds, and even though I know that our total square footage is about the same as it was last year, it tricks my eyes and I feel like there's just not as much room.  And so we've trellised more this year than ever before, peas, beans, cucumbers, melon.... always looking for ways to squeeze in a bit more here and there.  

The garden this year is teaching me a lot about how to be selective in what I plant and what I am satisfied with purchasing from someone else.  Broccoli, for example.  It just doesn't do well for us and I'm not sure why.  Ignoring that, I planted a dozen plants nice and early and we got maybe a pound of broccoli in total before they started to bolt and I pulled them out.  I could have planted 3 or 4 summer squash plants in that space and we'd be eating fresh squash daily.  From now on, I'll leave the broccoli growing to someone else, thanks.  Our peas were fabulous and I wish we'd had more, which is where we're at with the beans now.  I also wish we'd planted onions and potatoes again and will do so next year.  The few volunteers left over from last year have been pleasant surprises.  Our garlic did quite well, the tomatoes are coming along and our greens bed is prolific as always.  Sadly, the apple tree in our yard has succumbed to some type of root rot and will have to be taken down soon, but in it's place will go 2 or 3 more raised beds (one will definitely be for perennial herbs) and a new tree.  The wood will no doubt be used to help keep us warm this winter.

Mike and Claire hooked up our rain barrels and planted our fig trees last week, and Mike made a fancy compost sifting screen that works quite well.  He also had the brilliant idea a while back to pile our raked leaves into the chicken yard to let the girls scratch them up for us while adding a bit of their own fertilizer in as well.  After a few weeks in there, those leaves are finely shredded with a bit of that good ol' poo mixed in and ready to be added to the compost heap.  Brilliant.

We typically get 2 eggs a day from our 3 hens (Mabel, it would seem, is a complete and total freeloader) and I'm spending a lot of time sitting a few feet away from the hive watching in amazement as the bees do their thing.  I think I could sit there for hours watching them, getting to know them.  I watch as they come back from foraging and tumble into the hive with those huge clusters of pollen weighing down their legs, watch as the ones with the job of protecting the hive keep other bees and insects at bay and remove a dead bee every now and then, and watch as they always seem to do a quick little preening,  not unlike our cat, (except that he doesn't fly... not that I know of) just before flying off.  Today I picked up a copy of Honeybee, Lessons from an Accidental Beekeeper by C. Marina Marchese at the library and am excited to get my nose into it.

Oh!  And I am SO EXCITED to start "telling" the bees!  Anyone ever heard of this?  I was just clued in to this last night as I read through some comments posted on the wonderful blog, Soulemama, in response to what Amanda Blake Soule wrote yesterday about recently getting hives of her own.  One reader suggested she "tell" her bees and I've now come to know this to mean just what it sounds like~ you tell your bees things.  What's going on in the neighborhood, in your life, what you think about things.  Anything and everything.  You know, to keep them company.  Help them get used to the sound of your voice.  Feel like part of the family.  Apparently it is a tradition that has been around for quite (quite) some time.  I think it sounds perfect.  

Happy gardening~  I'm off to go talk to my bees!

a good day

Today was a good day.  A great day.  Sure to become one of those days that I find myself remembering when I need a little cheering up or a reminder on a challenging day that no, not all days are difficult (because you know in the middle of one of those days, it sure can feel that way despite the reality being quite the contrary).

It began with an early morning outing to see if a local blueberry patch was ready yet.  It was indeed ready and so shortly after that followed, of course, a late breakfast of blueberry pancakes.  Some bee-watching, laundry hanging, garden tending and cookie baking (oatmeal with walnuts and chocolate covered raisins and a cinnamon chocolate macaroon that came out a bit more like a meringue), a brief swim with friends after naptime and then back home to watch a lil' storm roll in and out.

Here's a taste of what it looked like:

Several times throughout the day I found myself feeling overwhelmingly grateful and happy.  As the perfect warm breeze blew while we picked berries, as I watched the bees coming in from foraging with legs heavy with pollen, as I ate a delicious meal with my two loves and gathered flowers from our yard.  And most especially when I stood back and watched as Claire helped me with the baking and realized that yes, we are there now.  The place where it's possible for her to stand beside me, on a stool, and help me in the kitchen.  I hope she'll happily occupy that stool for years to come and that cooking together will become a favorite past time for her, as I know it will (and already has) for me.

So very, very grateful for days like these.

and now, we are beekeepers~

Early this morning we drove over the mountain into Marion to pick up our bees.  We purchased Russian bees from a local beekeeper and he'd finally been able to split some of his into our hive body last week.  We've been in contact with him since late April, and were anxiously awaiting the day that we could FINALLY go and pick up our new girls.  

Thousands of them.

As we were approaching his house, checking mailboxes for the right number, Mike noticed a house ahead and said "I'm pretty sure it's probably that one, the one with all the bees."  Yep.  That was it.  He had dozens of colorful hives in a sunny patch in his backyard.  What a pretty sight.  The sourwood trees are already blooming down in Marion, with ours up here a week or so behind, and we were told that they've been busy, busy, busy "working the flow" and not getting in for the night until after 9pm.  I pictured all those little bees out and about working hard all day long and getting home just as darkness fell.  Pictured them settling in for the night and telling each other about what they had encountered, getting a snack, tucking themselves in for a little rest...... it's a cute thought, anyway.

We chatted a bit more, then Mike secured the hive with a ratchet strap and carefully placed it in the car.  A quick stop at a local beekeeping supply store to pick up our veil, hive tool and smoker and we were on our way back home to get these girls settled in and introduced to their new surroundings.

Mike carried the hive over to the stand that he had readied yesterday, a pallet on bricks in a small fenced in area that we reclaimed from the hens.  I claimed the job of removing the screen and so I quickly went about a little wardrobe change.  Pants, mud boots, a white long sleeved shirt and my long garden gloves, the veil of course.  Mike pointed out the deep v-neck of the shirt that I somehow had failed to notice and kindly duct taped it closed for me.  I grabbed a screwdriver and pliers and entered the little yard.  I gently removed the staples and duct tape, placed myself slightly to the side of the hive opening, and peeled back the wire mesh screen that had been keeping them in.  I really wasn't sure what to expect from them, but I was calm and trusted that it would be fine, whatever it was.

And of course, it was.  A couple hundred(ish) bees came tumbling/flying out at once and quickly began to orient themselves and fly off to explore.

We sat back and watched as they buzzed around the clover and ignored completely the daylilies and yarrow.

I'm really quite excited about this latest little adventure.  Seems we've invited yet another thing into our lives that will provide lessons on a nearly daily basis.  No shortage of lessons around here for the last year and half, I assure you.  I look forward to seeing these hard workers out and about every day, I am excited to learn the art of building the perfect little fire in the smoker, and of course I'm excited to taste sweet honey from our own backyard hive, in due time.  For now, mostly, I'm just thrilled to see them buzzing around and getting comfortable.

Mike has done quite a bit more reading about bees and beekeeping than I have, but there are a few books on my reading list that I'm now a bit more inspired to dive into.  

Specifically, these:

Honeybee: Lessons from an Accidental Beekeeper (C. Marina Marchese)

Homemade Living: Keeping Bees with Ashley English: All You Need to Know to Tend Hives, Harvest Honey & More (Ashley English)

Honeybee Democracy (Thomas D. Seeley)

Welcome to your new home, ladies!

etsy shop open!

Well I've done it~ I've joined the thousands and thousands out there and added a few of my handmade goodies to the overwhelming selection found on etsy.

I'm starting with a few handmade stuffed animals and plan to add some photography and cards as time allows.  You can find it here.  Please come take a look and let me know what you think!

pig tails

If I stealthily put them in as she nurses, I can now get pig tails in Claire's hair.  Doesn't happen often, but when it does....... the cuteness factor is (I think) off the charts.  They also make her look so ridiculously grown up that I'm left feeling torn between taking them out so she looks more like the little newborn babe that she is (ha) and leaving them in and enjoying their cutie pie-ness.  Usually, she decides for me by pulling them out after about 10 minutes.

See?  Pretty darn cute, right?

rainy mornings with a good soundtrack

We are having a slow and rainy morning around here.  Lately I find these are my favorite kind of mornings.

So peaceful. 

Mike got the rain barrels hooked up yesterday (just in time for an afternoon rain), and I enjoy hearing the swooshing and tinkling sounds of them filling up, bit by bit.

With interest sparked by a mention of his music in a novel I recently finished, I am now loving listening to the Andres Segovia Pandora station.  Not sure if the other members in the house are appreciating it's nearly nonstop playing for the last few days, but it's so good I can't turn it off.  And it just seems to be the perfect soundtrack for these rainy days, somehow making me feel less guilty for staying in my pjs late and not getting much done aside from reading, playing, and generally lazing about.

Breakfast with my girl continues to be one of the highlights of my day.  It is slow paced and generally relaxed.  I tell her about whatever it is I think I'd like to do with the day and she either approves or presents an alternative.  And then we either go along with one of the plans or throw it all to the side and continue on in pjs immersed in stories for a bit longer.  Or go and see the chickens.  Weed the garden.  Either way, not bad.

Of course there are the things that need to be done around the house, projects still in the works or not yet begun.  Of course.  Spending a lot of my time at home makes those things rattle around in my head a bit sometimes and so occasionally something gets marked off the list.  Though I admit it is usually by papa and not me.  More often, the time spent at home has the opposite effect and makes me add something to the list.  Oh well.  I remember to keep it in perspective, knowing that the drywall mud still in need of sanding isn't nearly as important as reading her favorite books with her or stacking and re stacking (and re stacking) the nesting blocks or rolling pieces of wood down the slide (or, or, or.....).  

And so, off I go to do just that.  Or whatever alternative she presents.  The sun is peeking through enough that maybe it's time for a little neighborhood stroll~

welcome summer

Last night we enjoyed green beans and broccoli (an admittedly meager but very welcome harvest) from the garden in our stir fry and then welcomed summer with a bonfire.  Claire chased lightening bugs around for the first time and I sat there watching her, soaking in the lovely evening, and feeling excited about all that this season holds for us.  Hiking, swimming, exploring, ice cream (not that you can't enjoy ice cream all year round, of course), berries and melons and fresh fresh fresh produce.... music by the lake and lots of market fun.  Ahhhhhh, summer.  I'm so happy that you are here.

So here's to summer~  no doubt this will be a season full of popsicles and bandaids, and, with luck, many more beautiful bouquets of fresh flowers. (the ones pictured below were gifted to me "over the garden gate" by my neighbor.  yep, love my neighbors.)

reflections on mothering :: revelations and being smitten

There are times I feel overwhelmed and frazzled, a bit discouraged by the often monotonous flow of my life these days.  Worn thin by the constant holding and soothing of a certain little teething toddler.  Wondering if I'll ever become reacquainted with real sleep, with nights out with friends, with solo travel.....

(If you are a mother, this is all familiar to you, I know.  I know I'm not alone.)

And then I feel a little guilty.  Ashamed, even.  How can I feel sorry for myself when my life is so full of love and blessings and beauty?  When there are so many out there with very real problems and very harsh realities and a notable lack of love, blessings and beauty in their lives?

Of course our lives feel difficult and challenging at times, blessed and rich though they are.  Of course those difficulties and challenges may seem to pale in comparison to those faced by others.  But that's life.  We know our own lives more intimately than any others and so we are knocked off balance by our frustrations and our trials.  And that's alright.  It doesn't make us shallow.  It doesn't make us ungrateful.  It doesn't mean that we don't feel for those out there who are experiencing harder times.  It  simply means that we are human.

Yep, human.  Thinkers.  Feelers.  Over-analyzers.  And so on.

And then there are days (many of them, the majority of them) that I feel overwhelmed with gratitude and wonder how I am so lucky to have that (very same) monotony.  The reliable, somewhat predictable flow of my days at this point in my life.  I remember that I chose this.  That we chose this.  That my days will not always be so predictable and full of so much and of nothing at the same time.  That I had better count my blessings for the great gift of being able to be here, where I am, right now.  And that of course, OF COURSE, I will know sleep again.  And here's revelation number one: I will know so many things again that I have at times worried have been lost forever.  And I will treasure them even more.  The parts of me that survive these early years of motherhood, that resurface when given sufficient breathing room and whatever else it is that they require to thrive, will be the parts that are so truly me that it would have been impossible to lose them.  Other parts will not survive, and that's okay.  They will be the parts that weren't meant to continue on down this path.

It took me some time to look at it that way instead of just worrying about whether or not I'd be able to salvage all of it, all of "me".  I realize now that it's all part of my growth.  As a mother.  As a woman.  As a person.  As my self.  We grow, we change, we stay the same... we hold onto what we want to and let go of what we need to, sometimes thinking it's happening to us, but mostly, I think, it's by choice.

So here I am.  In many ways the same as I was before entering into motherhood, in many ways changed.

And right here, now, is when it's really sinking in that she is growing up.  Relatively, of course.

(sigh)

I am fiercely, head-over-heels smitten with this little love of mine lately.  Of course I always love her and always find joy in watching her figure out this world bit by bit.... how to negotiate it, how to just be in it.  But lately, my goodness, I am just amazed by her.  I think in this place we are now, in this stage of being so palpably on the brink of so many things, so many changes, so much growth.... I am sensing the passage of time more than I have before during her 16 1/2 months of being out here in the world.  I know everyone says it goes by so fast.  And surely, it does.  Yet when I think back over the time we have shared together thus far it pleases me immensely to feel like many things do in fact seem like they happened a long time ago.  In a way I feel like I was just childless, just pregnant.  But in so many other ways, I feel like it was ages ago that we were working out our nursing troubles, dealing with her hernia surgery, watching her learn to roll over, to crawl, to laugh..... So very much has happened and though I mourn at times the passing of her babyhood, I also feel like we lived in it so fully and truly that it has become a part of us.  As if I've absorbed into my bones that newborn smell, those early sleeping grins and even (of course) the draining, restless nights.  Realizing that makes me hopeful that this is how it will be as we go through life with her.  That each stage, in all of it's beauty and it's trials, will become a part of my being in a way that I will never ever forget about it or lose it.  And I think "So this is how we do it.  This is how mothers go on watching their children grow without an overwhelming sense of sorrow and loss.  This is why and how we can welcome each new stage and delight in what is to come."

That was revelation number two.  That I can indeed delight in her growing up and not just stare backwards sadly holding onto those tiny little feet and tiny little fingers and helpless little self.

Thank goodness.  Because she certainly doesn't seem to have plans of slowing down anytime soon.

in our kitchen :: creamy fresh pea pasta

mmmmmmm.  peas.  Though we did miss out on some of our peas by going away when we did, thanks to a dear neighbor who came by (without even being asked- told you I had amazing neighbors!) to water the garden and pick the peas to keep them producing (thanks so much, Grace) we were able to pick quite a few upon our return.  Enough for a few meals, at least.

I had plans of making a creamy pea risotto but when dinner time rolled around and no preparations had yet to be made on my part, I decided creamy pea pasta was going to have to suffice.

And suffice it did.  Very well.

Creamy Fresh Pea Pasta
pasta
peas (fresh, if you've got them)
olive oil
parmesan
ricotta
garlic
garlic powder
salt
pepper

and that's all~

I cooked the pasta (we used wide egg noodles) and sauteed some garlic in olive oil, then tossed the peas (a mix of pods and shelled peas) into boiling water for just a couple minutes.  Next, I tossed the warm noodles with a generous amount of finely grated parmesan, ricotta, and a bit of olive oil.  Add in the garlic and peas and top with garlic powder, salt and pepper to taste and voila! a yummy, cheesy, garlicky  bowl of some of the tastiest comfort food around awaits.

Next year I'll remember to plant more peas so we have some to freeze, and not to travel for the first two weeks the peas are producing~

our trip north~

There are many, MANY photos in this post.  We were up visiting friends and family for almost 2 weeks, after all.  Here's a little run down of our recent trip.  A trip filled with many firsts. (of course, it seems we've entered a stage where there is a new first experienced daily...)

Claire's first parade, (leading the way it would seem, with her papa and Aunt Jen) the Memorial Day parade in Pennington, New Jersey~

Her first encounter with a sprinkler~  my brave girl thought it was pretty cool...

until it turned on her, something sprinklers are notorious for...

her cousin Kate encouraged her to give it another go and so they went,

but alas, the tricky sprinkler did indeed get her wet again.  She was not pleased.

Luckily, there were horses next door to cheer her up.  Worked like a charm.  Surely one of the highlights of the trip for Claire (along with her regular morning excursions to the garden to pick strawberries with Nana) was watching and feeding the neighboring horses.  (I know there's no horse in the picture, but trust me, it was there)

We took a trip to nearby Howell Living History Farm, a very cool place that as you can plainly see, Claire was thrilled to visit.  If this photo doesn't make it to the cover of their promotional brochures I will be very surprised.

Just look at that cute little piggy tail..... it makes me think about her first pig tails, a lovely pair of the stick-straight-out variety~

There was some napping of course,

some dress-up,

and some dressing down, too.

(she made it all the way up that slide, all by herself)  See that bird bath in the back right corner?  That's where Mike and I got married almost 6 years ago.  Right there in Nana and Grandpop's yard.  It looked a little different then, with 2 big tents and lots of tables and chairs and flowers and such.... a very lovely day.)

On with the tour......

We went to the wedding of one of papa's very best friends.  Mama even got to stay at the reception until almost 10pm(!)  Claire of course, was up waiting for me.... we do still have a ways (ahem) to go in the go-to-sleep-without-mama department, but we'll get there.  And those few hours of hanging with the grown-ups laughing, talking, dancing and enjoying a couple gin and tonics were well worth it.

Our plan had been to leave for Western Massachusetts the day after the wedding.  The Berkshires, Mt. Greylock, museums (like the Carle Museum), and good food all awaited us.  Thing was, we woke up and weren't feeling like getting in the car again for 4 or 5 hours.  So the plan became to leave the next day.  But then that day came and we started wondering about justifying the drive for what would then only be a very brief stay.  In the end we decided we couldn't.  So we stayed.  The plan became day trips and relaxing and more trips down the slide.  And as hard as it was for me at first to let go of the planned trip further north, I was so relieved to welcome our new "un-itinerary".  That morning, instead of heading to Massachusetts we headed to Philadelphia.  We took Claire to the zoo, where we saw very happy gorillas and watched a baby orangutan just a little bit older than Claire (and approximately the same size) nurse and then swing by her feet on a vine 30 or so feet high.  Seeing that made me feel quite relieved that I don't have to worry about my little monkey doing that.  At least I don't think I do.  Not yet anyway.  Soon enough her papa will be teaching her about climbing trees, but hopefully he won't be encouraging her to swing from her toes.

We also saw a beautiful mosaic mural,

sweet baby (and mama) ducks,

 this curious fellow, whose name I can't recall,

and many other creatures big and small.

Next we headed to the very worthy of a visit Reading Terminal Market for lunch and browsing, and then went for a walk in the Historic District where we saw buildings from the 1700s standing next to those from the late 20th century.

The next day we took Claire for a little rock throwing on the banks of the Delaware river, she took her first dip in a little baby pool (thanks, Grandpop for going out and getting one!), and then we took a short drive to Princeton for some food.  As we often do, we made our selection after looking through some posts on Chowhound.  We decided on Nassau Street Seafood and Produce, a little seafood and specialty produce market with a to-go counter in the back.  Nothing fancy.  We ordered fish tacos and fish and chips and went out to enjoy them at one of the outdoor tables of the adjoining restaurant.  But we were too late.  Their dinner service had begun so we took our bag of fish and had a little sorta-kinda picnic in the grass by one of the university buildings.

Afterwards we set out for some very important business.  Something I had planned on doing at some point during our trip.  We took Claire out for ice cream for the first time.  It couldn't just be anywhere.  This was serious.  It had to be somewhere special.  An establishment worthy of such an honor.  Lucky for us, Princeton has just the place.  The Bent Spoon.  The inaugural ice cream flavor(s)?  Lavender marscapone and strawberry marscapone.  Yum.  She was wide-eyed and so very into the act of devouring the ice cream.  I am sad to say that my camera was back at the house and so I did not capture the sweet, sticky, drippy experience on film.  No worries.  I'm betting there will be many more ice cream outings to come.

On our last day in New Jersey we did a whole lot of nothing.  Aside from a quick trip back to Howell Farm for Claire and I, most of the day was spent in the backyard on the slide or on the couch reading stories.  Mike made a delicious meal for dinner including these amazing bacon-butter scallops over spinach~

I think I could get by on just those and some of that lavender ice cream......  Indeed.

We lingered outside watching the horses at dusk, then packed up and readied ourselves for the journey home.

Both a very full and very not-so-full trip.  For the most part, it was just right.