New porch set. Wine. Knitting. The breeze. Fresh berries to snack on right next to me.
New porch set. Wine. Knitting. The breeze. Fresh berries to snack on right next to me.
A few weeks ago the Peach Truck, as it is known, was supposed to visit our town. My best friend and I agreed to buy a box and split it, and when her husband went to buy them for us we were sorely disappointed to learn the truck broke down and wouldn’t be visiting our area at all. I had everything planned out to make – pie, jam, grilled with some pork… all of those plans were over.
Today at the local farmers market was a vendor who had Georgia peaches. And even getting there right around opening time the large boxes were still sold before I got to them. So, $10 later, I came home with about 10 really large, crazy delicious peaches. 7 of them are getting turned into small batch jam (salted brown sugar and sriracha, both from “Preserving by the Pint”), the kid and I ate one, and there is just two left. Maybe I’ll grill those.
It feels really good to be in the kitchen and doing what I used to love. I’m trying lately to really make an effort to not let the kid prevent me from, well, being me. It’s so easy to say “I can’t do that anymore because he always makes it harder” but he is getting better about things. And if I don’t take time out to do the things I love then I’m going to be a batshitcrazy nightmare to be around (which I’ve totally been these last few days). Also, the tv makes an excellent babysitter when need be, and any parent who says otherwise is lying. :)
So we put a garden out after all. I told myself multiple times that I wasn’t doing it this year. It’s too much to manage with the kid and work and everything else. And then, when it came down to it, Mother’s Day – our usual planting weekend – came and went and things felt off. It didn’t feel right not having a garden. I mentioned as much to the Mr, and with a knowing sigh he just kind of looked at me and said “I’ll get the boxes out of the garage.”
We broke up the dirt in the old spots where the boxes used to be, and then stacked the extras on top to make them deeper this year. Well, the guys did – I sat on the porch drinking a beer :) Today we visited Lowes to buy plenty of potting soil to replenish the nutrients in the soil that we’ve neglected the last two years, along with plants since we didn’t plan on a garden to get seeds started. 3 tomatoes, 2 peppers, an eggplant, kale, and zucchini. I bought some herbs from one of the local school fundraisers, which were half dead by the time I planted them, but I’m hoping they come back now that they’ve got some proper soil to grow in. We planted carrots and radishes, too, just so Declan can watch something grow from seed out there. We potted some Strawberries on Sunday, too – I don’t generally have much luck with them, but Declan LOVES to eat berries so we’re trying them yet again. Raspberries are growing, too, and I’m determined this year to actually use my HopTop for at least one small batch of something boozy.
We bought a new grill this weekend, invited the stepson and his family up (that’s the grandbaby with the big pretty eyes – still weird that I’m 32 and a grandma), and made some damn delicious chicken thighs on it. I tried to gussy up the patio a bit to make it cozy, though the birds just poop everywhere so most of the pretty things are temporary items. Tablecloth that can be washed, items that get brought inside after we’re done, etc. How on earth do people keep outdoor furniture clean?! I feel like every time I want to use the table I have to wash the whole thing down – there’s no popping outside and just hanging out back there. Maybe because our patio is covered so the dust just collects without any rain to wash it off? I don’t even know. I’m working on finding some cute things to hang up on the side of the house to decorate a bit more. Maybe a cute wood wall hanging/sign painted to look like a barn quilt square? Hmmmm…
In just a few hours, as we all slumber, the Little Mr turns two. I’d ask where the time has gone, but I have spent the last 3 days snuggling my sick child and know exactly where it went: it went in tears and laughs. It went in bath times and pool days. It went in messy grocery store scenes and fights to stay in seats at restaurants. It went in the bazillion times we read the same books over and over, and the happy messes we made in the kitchen making pancakes or baking cakes. It went with tantrums and snuggles. With gardens and dirt and feeding chickens in his “turtle power” boots. With “knitting” and helping decide which squares of fabric should go where on my in-progress quilt. With tearing apart my craft room but not being able to be too mad because he’s learning hands-on even though it’s a huge pain to re-fold fabric or pick up beads that were dropped (or impossible-to-find empty sewing machine bobbins).
Another year has gone by. I started my day off complaining about my cake. It wasn’t perfect like my Pinterest “inspiration” photo. It wasn’t tall enough. The icing wasn’t thick enough. The layers didn’t bake flat enough because my floors are uneven. I spent my weekend snuggling a poor, sick little one who wanted to be in my arms 24/7. I spent a sleepless night snuggling this child in bed because he wouldn’t sleep anywhere else. I wished for a drink before noon at least two out of the 3 days because the clingyness is too much for this introverted mama with a low touch quota. And then I took the photos of the party and immediately regretted it – I prefer my own eye for photos, but trying to mother and adjust the camera for photos doesn’t work and I should have just left the job to the husband and and and….
But none of that matters, because tomorrow my baby wakes up and is suddenly 2 years old and it all suddenly feels like it’s too fast. It was a year, but it wasn’t enough time. I didn’t get enough snuggles, enough fun days together, enough books to read repeatedly. It’s all much too fast. Much, much too fast.
Today I turned 32. I feel older than that. I probably look older than that, to be honest. I have more gray hairs than I imagined I’d have at 32, and it gets worse by the week, and sometimes I worry I look like I’m mid 30s going on 60. Especially when I’m knitting in public. But eh, what are you going to do? The silver strands don’t take dye well at all, so even attempting to hide it just leaves me with some other color hair mixed with silver. So the only thing to do is just embrace it and hope that I can make natural grey look cute, I guess.
Anyway. 32. Most years I bake myself my own cake. This is a long-running tradition for me, and while it started out as a bit of a bitter project because no one got me cake… it has turned out to be a thing I very much enjoy doing. There’s something nice about making a special treat just for yourself, as a celebration of yourself and the one year older you became. This year, though, I took things a different direction. I had that new pie plate… and fresh raspberries in the yard… and we had nectarines in the fridge… Pie it is!
The thing about pie, in this household, is that I’m the only one who eats it. (Well, the little Mr does, too, but he’s easy to hide it from). So literally there is no one else in this house that I have to share it with. My pie crust skills needs serious work, so it’s a bit messy, but OMG is it GOOD. Summer in a pie, right here. Maybe birthday pie is going to end up being the thing I do, instead of cake. After all, pie has fruit so it’s instantly healthy, right? No? Oh well. Worth a shot.
So after all the pie making, I spent today locked up in my craft room to sew. First up, I finished my sister’s wedding quilt (and I’m hoping my sister doesn’t know about this blog, or if she does she has sense enough to just avert her eyes and move on to another website so there aren’t spoilers… consider yourself warned, sis!)
I’m so excited to have it finished! And… I kind of don’t want to give it away. It was a LOT of work. Do you see how small my sewing machine is? Do you know how hard it was to roll that quilt and get it shoved through that small hole so I could quilt it? SO. MUCH. WORK. But… I’m pretty sure I’m going to make another one so I can have one for myself. Different fabrics, of course, though I do love the black/white/gold combo so much. But, alas, without a gift quilt to gift I’d have to come up with something else and chances are slim to none that I’d get something made before Saturday. I decided to machine the binding, and I thought I might regret it but I don’t at all. It looks fine. It’s still handmade, regardless of how the binding is done. And it was way less stressful to machine it.
After the quilt was done, I decided I needed a new shirt. The thing with having a uniform for work is that I don’t need near as many clothes as I have. So I need a new shirt like I need another hole in the head… but I can make myself a new shirt to replace one of my commercially bought ones that is nearly worn out, so it’s a compromise. I’ve had this Akita pattern in my library since it was released, but never got around to it. The fabric is some mystery fabric I found for $1 at the Goodwill (score!) that was more than enough to make this shirt. I’m nearly done with it – all I have left to do is hem the bottom and sew on the neck binding. If all goes well, I’ll get it finished tomorrow morning and be able to wear it. It’s purely coincidence that it’s red and tomorrow is the 4th of July. I’m not exactly the most patriotic of people. Mostly, I just like the BBQs and the pie. :) But more on the shirt tomorrow when it’s done – I added a special little detail that I want tho tell you about when I have more time (and when birthday pie isn’t still lingering, begging for me to eat it).