catch up

Hi everyone! It's been a really busy weekend. Brett and I had company so we spent a lot of time doing the things one does when one has company, i.e. not blogging.

It has been otherwise a pretty productive week.
The house is very clean.

The tomato seeds have lots of leaves on them now, the broccoli, cosmos, and marigolds have sprouted, the basil is on the verge of getting real leaves.
The north west bed of the garden has been double dug, and most of the rocks are out of it.
The peas are in the garden and will probably sprout some time next week. I'm trying to believe that they really will be ok in the frost, since we got dusted again last night.

I finished the Apple Mittens last night and will probably just suck it up and use the circs so I can finish the Monkey Socks. A commenter a while back suggested I order a new set from Knit Picks, and I probably just should, but for some reason I'm resisting ordering anything online.

We visited Lynn and the alpacas down the street and I got to meet Lira from whose fleece the Fly Creek Cap was knit. We also went to Howe Caverns which was beautiful and very cool. I have pictures to show you all once I get a chance.

White House Green Thumb

So I definitely have gardening on the brain. Never fear, gentle reader, this too shall pass and I'll swing back to my typical crafty ways soon enough. At times like these I wonder if I might not have just a little teensy manic streak. When I get tracking on something, I tend to pursue it to the exclusion of all (or at least most) other things. Right now it seems to be gardening. Forgive me. I have not forgotten the mittens, the socks, the quilt, the lace work, the pattern design. It will all be back soon.

But for now it's a 24-7 local food fest up in here.

Maybe you've heard by now, but in case you haven't, the kitchen garden is back at the White House. My first reaction is to be happy, as I would be happy if it were revealed that the First Lady actually designs lace shawls or the President knits his own socks. (Can you even imagine!? Just typing that gave me goosebumps...) I am pleased that something I find valuable and Good has found support at the highest levels. You all know I'm just a touch fanatical about local food consumption and small scale economies based on self-sufficiency and the Jeffersonian Ideal, so I might not be seeing straight here. I shall atempt distanced analysis...

Cynical Kate knows that the White House Kitchen Garden, maintained solely by the Obama family, is untenable as the main method of food production for the Presidential family, let alone state dinners. In 17th century France, as spices became commonplace and fresh vegetables expensive, tastes shifted so that haute cuisine favored the simple and fresh to display the valuable produce the wealthy could afford. These days, it is a status symbol as much as anything could be that occasionally a state dinner might feature an heirloom tomato picked right from the vine, just a few steps away. Serving that tomato speaks to the values that the President (and First Lady) and by extension America, wish to display to visiting dignitaries- frugality, resourcefullnes, hard work, self sufficiency. But if the President were forced to entertain only with what his household could make themselves on the White House Estate, there wouldn't be much time left for managing a country. The fantasy that we can convert modern American consumerist culture into one based on a subsistance model is romantic, but ultimately empty. The White House Kitchen Garden is absolutely propaganda (which does not necessarily make it bad. Professor Orr you taught me so much...). And the taxpayers are going to be footing the bill for this symbol-ridden garden.

Now, Idealist Kate knows that there are far far worse symbols that the taxpayers could be footing the bill for. (How about a Mission Accomplished banner and fighter pilot photo-op?) And anyway, costs seem pretty low. According to the Times, seeds and soil amendments are about $200, the labor will be provided by grounds crew, kitchen staff, and other White House staff volunteers, along with local school children. I like what a garden says about America. I like that President Adams planted the first one as a matter of necessity but also to take pleasure in seeing things growing. I like that the First Lady wants to use it as a teaching tool to show city dwelling students where the food they eat actually comes from and the work that it takes to make that food grow. I like that it's promoting healthy eating along with the appreciation of nature. I like that the First Family is setting a positive example and actually doing something productive with the land the White House sits on. I like what The Garden is propagandising.

So I don't care. I'm drinking the KoolAide. The way some people want to know who Michelle's wearing to such and such a dinner, I want to know what she's planting in the garden.

It's an interesting topic to consider, but I find the politics of food really fascinating. In another life I'd be a nutritional anthropologist. If you want to read what more intellectual people than I have to say about this, check out the Times's compiled opinion page. I did find some dissent on the comments page over here, mostly concerned that it's just a "photo-op" and has no actual effect. Generally though, the well reasoned arguments have come down in favor of the garden, but for a variety of reasons. Isn't politics fun?

The First Green of Spring

I have a book of poems selected by Garrison Keillor. It was a Christmas gift that I find myself deeply thankful for with regularity. I read Good Poems last spring, quite a lot of it at a camp site back in Iowa with a warm fire at my feet and the sun slowly setting. The collection appeals to my sensibilities; one section is called "Work" and mostly has poems about the rewards of manual labor- farm life in particular. Keillor has a great intro where he explains what makes a "good poem" and says, "they offer us truer accounts than what we're used to getting. They surprise us with clear pictures of the familiar." The poems are often narrative, and emotional, and always delight in words. There's very little in Good Poems that makes me angry and a lot that makes me very happy. This first page I opened to when I set out to read just happened to have what has become my favorite of the collection. I bookmarked it and everything.

So I thought I'd see if I could find a suitable spring-y poem and share it here.

The First Green of Spring
David Budbill

Out walking in the swamp picking cowslip, marsh marigold,
this sweet first green of spring. Now sauteed in a pan melting
to a deeper green than ever they were alive, this green, this life,

harbinger of things to come. Now we sit at the table munching
on this message from the dawn which says we and the world
are alive again today, and this is the world's birthday. And

even though we know we are growing old, we are dying, we
will never be young again, we also know we're still right here
now, today, and my oh my! don't these greens taste good.


This is from the "Resurrection" section of the book. I particularly like the way that none of the lines end with a complete thought, but lead the reader into the next line, continually renewing and surging forward. Until the last line of the poem which dwells on a singular moment and finds contented enjoyment in the present, rather than thoughts of the future.

What do you all think?


P.S. my basil and tomato plants have sprouted!

warming trend

It's sprinkling a little bit right now, but the past few days have been amazing weather wise, leaving little time for writing or knitting. Monday, Brett and I took a lovely long walk down the road. He was walking into work, I turned around at a little over two miles and took Honus back to the house. It was really nice to be out and about in the fresh air and sunshine with bare extremities, but I paid for it the next morning when my calves were so stiff I could barely walk.

I'm still hurting pretty bad today, but I think that's at least partly due to working in the brand new garden. I've been inspired by a book I took out of the library to set up the garden in four very manageable sections with walking space between. Today I finished turning over the sod in the pea and lettuce quadrant. I'll let it dry out and shake the topsoil back into the bed. Apparently this is supposed to keep weeds down better than just rototilling. Sure is a ton of work though; at least the bed is small. If the weather stays nice, I'm hoping to plant the peas by next week.

Hope Springs Internal

Today I staked out a 12ft x 9 ft section of the really grassy part of the property to plant for a garden this summer. And I am thrilled about it.

When Brett and I moved in, I talked to the land lady about wanting to put in a garden and she seemed to think that was fine. Over the course of our months here, I started to get worried that she might change her mind and not want us digging in the back. So I tuned down the garden dreams and figured I'd just plant a little basil in the kitchen and maybe a pot of tomatoes on the deck. The closer it gets to warm weather though, the more I've been thinking about the pleasure of spending time doing something productive outdoors and the joy of some fresh garden veggies of my own.


Aunt Karen, suggested that I look for a community garden to plant in, and though there's no such thing that I can find here in The Coop, I'm pretty sure that if I asked my neighbors for 100 square feet of dirt to cultivate, someone would be very accomidating. But I really want to be able to walk out and get busy, or I doubt I'll stick with it.

So, I did my research, planned out the size I wanted, then I called up the landlady and asked very nicely if it was still ok to put in a garden. And she said yes! I do plan on sending her an addendum to the lease agreement for us both to sign (just in case), but I'm optimistic enough to believe that I might actually have instant salads this year, and perhaps some homemade pickles, salsa, tomato sauce, etc.

Now, I know that the garden I had at Living History Farms was massive. Way too big for Brett and I to handle alone. The garden I staked out is very modest, easy even. Based off of yields from the Farms garden (knowing how little vegitation this household actually eats) and the recomended spacing for planting, I've figured that we don't really need a ton of space. I would like to do some pumpkins and watermelon though, and my research is saying they need around 10 ft to vine out. We absolutely have that space, so I'll probably hill a few out in the grass, weed a little and hope the native flora doesn't do them in.

In knitting news, I really want to finish my second Pacific Monkey Sock (from Knitty. See?) but I'm still short a needle. When we were in Oneonta, I even looked at the Big Box Retailer for another US2 DPN set, but the best I could do was US3! Next time I'm somewhere I can grab US2 double points, I'm geting a few sets. It's my favorite size for fingering weight and aside from the joy of having a spare, I can see using more than one set if I want to work on more than one pair of socks at a time. I'm about to put away the snowshoes for the season, but here's a shot of the lone Monkey sock in action.

To Do

Yay!

The sun is shining and by tomorrow the weather is supposed to be in the 50s. Snow is drip dripping and with the heat back on in the house, I'm feeling downright cozy.

Brett will be here tomorrow and I've done next to nothing with my big bad cleaning plans for the last week or so. Today I'm amped up to do some serious work though.

I'd like to:
get some laundry done
sweep the hardwood
vaccuum the carpets
shovel the back porch (and pray that I need not do it ever again!)
clean out the fridge
and clean off the kitchen counter tops
soft scrub the stove top
dust the woodwork
windex the windows
clean my bathroom and wash the towels
straighten up the living room
change some lightbulbs

generally make the house someplace I might not cringe to admit to living in if our lovely neighbors stopped by for tea (the ones with the beautiful house who put a white lit Christmas tree out on their front porch. Fit for Better Homes & Gardens, these people are...)
The goal is to leave nothing laying around that Abby will consider a toy, besides, of course, her actual toys.

take recyclables back to the grocery store

bake raisin scones
plant some tomato and basil seeds
get going on that second mitten
find clamps around the house so that I can do this to my as yet unused loom

And I think I will light some candles and play some music and be generally happy with life.

Kinship

Thanks for all the comments in recent days folks. I love hearing back from those of you who are reading and I enjoy each comment.

There does seem to be a little confusion about the kind of knitting destruction my cat has caused. She does not merely play with finished knitted objects. Oh no. She usually takes the ball of yarn connected to the work in progress and bats it around the living room. Occasionally, she will pick up the yarn ball in her fierce little teeth and trot around with it, displaying her prowess as a huntress and dragging my hand-dyed, lace-weight or luxury fiber all over the house. Beast.

I think she just likes attention. She has a great little homing beacon that must tell her when I'm busy with something else, cuing her to find the most difficult place to be and defend it with plaintive mewing. When I was putting together the quilt top, she slept on top of the parts I was piecing together, or on the chair at my desk. She follows me around the kitchen when I cook, sitting up on her haunches to bat at my legs and whine. If I'm trying to knit, she wants to be in my lap. If I'm reading in bed, she curls up on top of my book and purrs insolently.

A two year old human couldn't possibly be as difficult as this cat.

I would also like to say, on a completely separate note, that I love the Midwest the way I love my brother. It is the love born of kinship. My brother and I come from the same people and the same background and whatever has gone into his making has gone into mine as well. We have known each other his whole life and are inextricably connected. I might poke fun and point out the endearing quirks, but I know that those things make him who he is and they are therefore at least a little part of me too. I may grow exasperated at little irritations. But Lord help the mister (or missus) who seeks to find fault with him, because he's a part of who I am and I'm a part of who he is too.

Thus do I feel about the Midwest, as well. I lived there during all my formative years. The people who live there are my great big extended family. And when people give me attitude about "Typical Midwesterners" I usually get punchy. Not everyone everywhere is exactly the same and I resent the implication that Midwesterners are backwards or overweight or close-minded or any of the things I hear so often from people who think that being from a Coastal Metropolis makes them inherently more virtuous than other people. I especially dislike how often "Midwestern" is spat with disdain in political discussions. And I do not apologize for taking comments like, "I was really surprised by the lack of diversity, acceptance, etc. [in Ohio]. I hear people say that the midwesterners are friendly and open, but this was far from my experience," just a wee bit personally.

High school psych class (in a Midwestern school) taught me that it is human nature to form mental distinctions- to separate Them from Us. No doubt some observations about Them are bound to be unflattering compared to Us, but Thumper taught me that if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. Easier said than done. Still, I choose to post things on the wide wide internet that I feel are positive, or constructive, or at least funny and not openly hostile.

That being said I will depart from my pacifict ways to issue this warning: if you choose to mess with the Midwest, the Midwest may mess back.

Views

It's snowing again.

Briefly we had rain that melted away the snow on the driveway. Lots of farms actually had spots of ground without snow. Muddy, I'm sure, but all the livestock looked happy to be out trying remember how to graze.

I bought basil and cherry tomato seeds that I plan to start in pots this week. Hopefully, they can stand up to the sulfur water we have in the faucets here. Surely I will not be buying bottled water just to have fresh home grown basil.

Winter does give some amazing views. Brett and Honus went for a hike and found views that look like this:


To fend off the winter blues, I have been making fruity crepes:

This plate is frozen strawberries and canned mandarin oranges. I drained the oranges and put the syrup in a saucepan on medium high heat. While I was making the crepes (1/2 TBS melted butter, 1 egg, 1/3 cup milk, 1/4 cup water, 1 TBS sugar, 1/3 cup flour, and a tiny pinch of salt. Pour into a medium heat crepe pan or small non-stick skillet and let cover the entire pan. When the edges start to brown, slide out of pan onto your plate and fold into quarters. I can get four thin crepes or three thicker ones out of this recipe.) I put the frozen berries into the hot mandarin syrup with a splash of vanilla extract and a little lime juice and let them simmer. The berry texture wasn't great: kinda mushy and the whole dish was overwhelmingly orange flavored. Next time, I'd cook the berries less and try to tone down the orange flavor. Probably only use half the mandarin can and make the syrup with half the juice. I'd also like to pop a little acid flavor in there- more lime juice?

But doesn't it look yummy? And less than a $2 for the plate!