respecting the weekend
Two naps in two days, its been a good weekend for self care. The time change didn’t hurt any either, I could take a 25 hour day. I am focusing more on the extra hour of daylight in the morning rather then the one lopped off my evening. I had napped so was up late and slept in and was still up by seven.
I drank coffee and read the paper. The most interesting article (Jan Weiss I think her name is writes the gardening column in the Trib) was on “frost flowers”. Apparently your supposed to go walking in the woods presunrise on the morning of the first hard frost and a few different wild flowers, one of which is common around here sheds ice crystals through its water transportation system and its a beautiful effect. Maybe next year the first hard frost seems worth acknowledging as a seasonal rite of passage. Has common sense rituals built in, bring in everything that can be harmed by the cold. Now go walking in the woods in the early morning. We’ll see, I may not do it , but I doubt I’ll forget.
I roasted coffee, light roast Sumatran and washed my sheets. While they were washing I double dug half the cold frame and added a wheelbarrow of horse manure. Boy that changed the character of the soil. Most of it had never been worked, it was a chore doing that. Chatted with the neighbor who thought it looked like rain. Local weather said tomorrow so I hung my stuff out in the windy day. Forecasters right again as it turned out.
Took Fido for a walk to the park. There were dogs there but he didn’t really get his play on. First it was Goldilocks syndrome some too big, the little puppy to small. But then some poodles came and he didn’t really even try to engage. He did remind me of Tiger when I saw all the other dogs neatly groomed and he in his DIY haircut. It made me think of my two poems I’ve written about Tiger, my mom’s best dog. The best one I don’t quite remember it all but will come up with something to post because I think I’ve been through all the poetry I have written down on file. This first one I wrote in my creative writing class and was supposed to be a haiku but didn’t reference the season. Tiger wasn’t fourteen but he did end up passing away when he was 14 many years later.
My dog is fourteen
That’s ninety to you and me
No longer he’s dead
So since Fido wasn’t playing we came home and decided to prioritize nap over further productivity. Things will get done when they get done.
Made coffee and stuttered puttering with dinner. I made sauce for my tortellini as follows: I scalded a bunch of tomatoes from my garden, Sarah’s garden, & a free box off the curb near the Farmer’s market all picked green before the hard frost (see the connection) that had ripened on the counter so I could remove the skins. I browned a pound of pasture raised ground round in some olive oil, a big yellow onion, a gypsy pepper and a green bell pepper. I added maybe four tablespoons fresh oregano, and a tsp each of fresh and dry basil and the tomatoes after the meat browned. Added some Bob’s Steak seasoning for the salt contingent and a shot of agave nectar to cut down on the fresh tomato bitterness. Just before it was done I pressed a giant clove of local garlic. With the tortellini and Kevin made garlic bread I did red lettuce salad with shaved carrots, raisins, croutons, & ranch. I also broke out the green tomato chutney which broke the Italian thing and had a Boulevard’s Unfiltered Wheat. Nice.
Then I’m gearing up for some Walking Dead and I’m going to give Hell on Wheels a shot. Kevin got V for Vendetta from 9th St Video but that’ll have to wait another day.
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