"orange julius"

In anticipation for colder weather we've been experimenting with a tasty, frothy treat.  Ce eats it with a spoon, I slurp it down.  The blender gets rinsed and put away for next time.  While not exactly entirely locally based it is delicious, and full of vitamin C and a total treat for us.  A mall exclusive easily brought to your kitchen:

 In your blender place:
   2 parts Orange Juice
   1 part Milk*
   2 parts Ice
   a splash of Vanilla

Blend until smooth and frothy.  Enjoy.

*Would a soy, almond or rice milk work? I don't know....

lower central incisors

Mr. Gabe is but 3+ months old, and he has broken a tooth.  Front, bottom, on his left, the little sharp ridges of a first tooth.  It feels tremendously too soon for my little drool factory to be achieving such milestones.  But here we are, baby's first tooth.

This is a reminder, the time goes so fast.  These moments fly past us.  They change rapidly.  The extreme dependence turns to fierce independence in the blink of an eye.  Sometimes you have to be so very quiet so you don't miss their moments.  So you're right there with them as they grab their hands, as they put on their shoes, as they call and cry for you.  These little ones, they're amazing.

So there you have it.  Baby's first tooth.

Around The Yard

 

I've been hard at work here in our little section of the world.  Digging and transferring, adding and removing, enjoying and thinking.  Weeding, and weeding, and weeding.  Learning and planning.  So very much planning and so very much action.  The action feels slow, but effective.

The rhubarb is bigger than I expected, the mint has gone positively native.  That herb garden space which felt so effective last year, feels needed for vegetables.  Somethings are perfect as they are, other things needed to be moved, removed, changed.  Many things need to be added and it's a slow process.

I'm enjoying the thought of canning my own tomatoes, though I'm scared they won't grow.  I'm excited about a freezer full of greens.  I'm encouraged that the hot peppers will be grown where the strawberries once were.  The strawberries are blooming and I'm questioning whether or not to pinch their blossoms after transplanting like the literature suggests.  I can't wait to eat salads from the garden.  Fresh dug carrots will soon be here.

Right now it is a game of preparation.  Everything is going in, getting weeded, being beautified.  And with the month of May being a social one, of birthdays, trips and visits, I'm looking forward to the month of June being quieter, spent in our yard, learning to ride a tricycle.  Passing the baby back and forth, back and forth as we pass our tasks back and forth, back and forth.

Creating Retreat.

Sharpening The Scythe

Yesterday it stopped raining.  My desire to do something took hold of me.  I started by planting the kale; I followed it with the chard.  I hemmed, I hawed, I picked some weeds out of a new garden bed.  I poked around.  Then finally the amazing power of Anne kicked in and I pulled my scythe out of the garage.  My new whet stone was unwrapped and I worked out the dings in my blade left from last season's occasional pebble.  I sharpened and got to work.

Whish, whoosh, whish through the wet grass.  Slash, whisk, cut went the dandelion heads.  And round and round the yard I went as the baby slept.  That gentle quiet rhythm.  Listening to the birds chirping.  Making Hay.  Enjoying the job at hand.  Feeling my muscles.

I fight the battle every year in my mind, the desire of a well groomed lawn compared to the efficiency of my man powered tool.  I imagine my waist becoming more slender with each twist; the lengthening and strengthening of my shoulders and arms as I swing.  My lawn remains uneven.  It invites insects and flowers and diverse plants into it.  I find that  I love admiring my landscape as I cut through the turf.  I love how quiet it is.  It makes an irregular lawn that scythe of mine, but that's me, an irregular person.  And while we're "city living" in our little downtown Eastport location, it's really just the littlest homestead that we sit upon.

Each year we do the little bits that we can to improve out home, our yard, our landscape.  With two little ones and constant repairs and surprises snatching away our funding it is a struggle to put any aside for our yard.  So it is with little windows of time, energy and money that we make the yard, the retreat that we desire.  I see the grand picture coming together.  I watch as our man power is utilized, one nap at a time, just working and working until we are satisfied with a job well done.