Running the natural course

Plants are waking up, stretching their leaves and saying hello.  Those tuckered out from a long fall and winter of growing are setting seed, ensuring their place in the gardens next year.

Most projects only get a few minutes of attention here and there. Just like building soil, everything requires time, so time gets split between chores. Painting the playhouse would be a prime example. The tee pee won't be finished until the peas grow and climb. 

{Click on the images to see them larger}

A stark reminder

This (though this view is from a different angle) was the view from our kitchen window on Saturday.   We need some work done on the house foundation, which meant a little bit of cutting, and pruning was needed.
Instead of just clearing out just what was needed, we also cleared out the volunteer privet, a source of tension between us and the neighbor. We've had an ongoing battle of the wits with our neighbor about the area, the trees and the "messy" hedge. They prefer topped trees and open lawn, we prefer figs to eat and oxygen to breathe.

By 2 PM Sunday, the street was lined with privet and fig debris. The pine branches are from a 3-day, 3 40 year old tree-toppling spree performed by professionals. I won't go into why those trees came down, except to say they were too tall for a certain person's taste.

The view from the kitchen window now looks out into Blandsville, a stark reminder of our suburban lifestyle.

Are you noting the tinge of sadness (and depth of bitterness) as I write this? It's kind of a shock to me, the difference. I take comfort in the privacy the trees offered and the bareness of the space has left me feeling quite bare. Soon enough we'll fill the space with more appropriate plants, but in the meantime it feels quite like an open wound.

down wind of chemical stench

My lengthy dislike for Scotts MiracleGro products started when I was just getting interested in gardening. Scotts was suing TerraCycle for using green and yellow on their packaging, though I never really believed that was all it was about. Perhaps a small start up company with a great idea for reused packaging and simple organic ingredients was putting a hurting on a major corporation's profits. Whatever it was, Scotts image seemed like the popular football star stuffing a nerdy kid in a locker.

Companies like Scotts promote chemical use in the garden, persistent chemicals that perpetuate reliance for gigantic yields and "weed-free" gardens. They promote the idea that a singular plant (grass) is the only acceptable basis of a beautiful, lush yard. A single variety plant space, such as a weed free lawn, is known as a monocrop, and a monocrop's lack of diversity can create all sorts of issues that need other synthetic products to resolve.

I won't get into the many uses of weeds...well maybe for just a second--some of those weeds might replace your prescription medicine, others could be pulled up and used to make an organic plant food, yet others simply feed the wildlife in your yard. Perhaps if the critters had natural forage they wouldn't go after your tomatoes and you wouldn't need that Scotts brand pesticide after all.

The more I learn about gardening, the more I learn that popular kid in the green and gold uniform had a few unsavory secrets. Enter stage left: Monsanto, wealthy, smooth-talking hip best friend to Scotts. Monsanto's own GMO-tainted politics does nothing to endear me to Scotts. 


To put my feelings into perspective, let's talk about something most people have some level of concern about: the honeybees. We've all heard about the rapid decline of bee populations and what will happen if they keep mysteriously dying. Bees an accessible environmental issue: less bees, less pollination, less productive crops, less food, higher food prices, food shortages...you get the idea. Scotts sells all sorts of weed killer monocrop the hell out of your yard. Make it all grass, get rid of that nasty clover...that nasty clover that bees find so useful as a source of food. Yeah, food, that little thing that keeps us all alive. Of course, Scotts' BFF Monsanto, the company that sues farmers whose crops have accidentally cross-pollinated with Monsanto GMO crops. The GMO crops that may or may not contribute to the decline of bee populations, certainly contributing to the loss of monarch butterfly populations (another handy insect that pollinates plants).

And then the National Wildlife Federation announced its partnership with Scotts. Frankly I took the news personally. I felt like an old friend went and made out with the dude that used to tease me every day about being flat-chested. Betrayal.


How do you feel about the partnership? Care, don't care, wish I'd saved my breath for some pretty furniture and lovely pictures?

* * *


You Grow Girl and Native Plants and Wildlife Gardens discuss the new partnership on their blogs.

I finished my 30-day grain fast last weekend. After a couple experiments with wheat since them I've decided to stick with very limited wheat. Seriously, people, a couple days after the detox I had a sandwich followed by an hour of very sharp pain.

Seems there might be something to this gluten sensitivity after all, sayeth the nay sayer. *sigh*

Here's to a wheat free weekend.

Vacation, all I ever wanted

Pardon the disappearance,we made it to the beach and had a lovely vacation. In fact, we came back so well rested we spent the past couple days doing some intense cleaning including, but not limited to: the refrigerator and steam cleaning all the rugs in the house.

Cleaning is not a normal pre-vacation activity, but I knew I'd be much happier coming home to a clean house than a messy one. Then spending a week in a house without stacks of papers and clutter made it hard to come home to a clean yet cluttered space.

With clean spaces all around and a well rested body and spirit, I'm finally ready to really tackle a few personal goals: really digging into Beautiful You, a book introduced to me by Amber Karnes. I meant to do the book club but didn't get my book until too late and excuses and more excuses.

Now I feel ready. What about you? Do you feel as beautiful as you actually are?

The balance of pluses and minuses

I talk a good talk about decluttering, and there is so much advice on the topic. I do believe it's a good approach to love what you have.

I also felt like this, found via the Seventh Generation blog, is a good approach:

"Ask yourself what you want your life to look like over the next few years," Grufferman writes, "and you'll come up with a vision for your future, which will be your personal theme. Once you have your theme, you can work on getting rid of everything in your life that doesn't fit the theme, and you will be prepared to let go of the clutter."

Even though I've got a few years before I turn 50, it sounds like great advice. So what would you say is your theme? I think mine would be Greater ecological and creative sustainability.

In Andrea Zittel fashion, actions can be divided up into pluses and minuses:

Consumerism:

More trading/bartering.

Thoughtful purchases--living with a mend it mentality. 

Buying used.

Consuming: 

Food straight from the farmer.

Homegrown and homemade.  

Expending:

Biking.

Trading.

Giving.

And living by the William Morris quote {thanks for the reminder Sarah!}:

"Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful."

Gratitude, Beauty and Happiness

I've been thinking a lot about gratitude lists and taking moments to reflect on all the positivity around me. Yesterday I heard a clip on NPR about happiness and the science behind it. I can't find a link, but they referred to this study.

Essentially the guest was discussing whether it's better to want what you have or have what you want.
Later, at home, I started looking around at all the clutter and stuff with new eyes, categorizing each thing in want/don't want. When something was a don't want, I asked myself, "Is it necessary?" If the answer was yes, then the next question, "Why don't I want it? Is it broken? Just ugly?"

Then comes, "Can I remedy the situation? Can I fix it, paint it, love it for what it is?"

I don't think the answer to happiness is being surrounded by beauty, though a well-appointed house must surely contribute to a tranquil home. I do think there must be an aesthetic balance, and I do think contemplating need is important.

So simple, so revolutionary.

tuesday the twenty second

This morning on my way to work, I caught an NPR story about the new Calder exhibit at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. With all the food talk seeping its way into this here blog, I thought it was most appropriate.

Alexander Calder, who lived from 1898 to 1976, liked to poke fun, too. In a clip from a 1950s TV program, an interviewer asked how the artist knew when a project was finished.

"When it's dinnertime," was Calder's laughing answer.

In addition to his delicate eye for design, Calder apparently had a forthright attitude and great sense of humor.

Yesterday was a rather slow day at the day job, so I did a little drawing. Actually a lot of drawing; pages and pages of sketches and lettering, with thoughts and plans for each. Then I got home and nothing worked like I'd envisioned. It made me a really crabby girl.


When Hi-C came home, I gave him fair enough warning of my ill-temperedness and he kindly let me be. Of the full day of working then art-working more (I know--whine whine whine), I finished up the first of a series free, down loadable recipe cards I'll have available as 4 to a page, 100% free printables. Here's the grand unveiling of the first: Helping Hands in the Kitchen.

There's not a lot of visible excitement in Sneak-Land.
Some exciting undercurrents include

1) The upcoming Songcatcher Show (with Jess and a whole bunch of other incredible peeps) at Lark and Key,

2) The Handmade Nation fundraiser auction at Poketo (swoon), and

3) Old School at Uppercase.

Then there are the really quiet, virtually invisible moments of excitement, when the strawberries in containers that I forgot to water send up new growth after playing dead. The potatoes and green onions that keep kickin' despite my own ineptitude.

And beautifully magic moments like finding out that grilled apples are even better than they sound. Put just a little feta on top while they're still warm. An indescribable experience.

Probably not the most exciting blog post ever, but I'm a little bleary eyed and feeling quiet.

Tell me what you're doing to enjoy the summer. Where are you finding quiet excitement?

Ahhh, lovely long weekends that never last long enough. Taunting me with mindless TV, bicycle rides, eating picnics and gardening on a whim, then throwing me back into the work world with sore muscles while interrupting the newly felt, luxurious sleep pattern of three days of sleeping in.

Yesterday a quick trip to World Market to buy tahini turned into a $40 spending spree, which, admittedly isn't too bad considering I didn't even look at the wines they had. I left with a 6-pack of beer, wind chimes, tahini, chile paste, and a 3-tiered tiffin tin to leave in the car for eating out or getting take out. The styrofoam take out containers must cease and desist.

Now, as Hi-C put it, we need to work it into our habits.

This little shopping spree was started in a circuitous manner--soaking dried chick peas to make hummus, baking crackers from Gayla's recipe for the hummus-to-be, realizing we were out of tahini (after a trip to the grocery store earlier in the day) so another trip back to the store.

I'm growing increasingly disappointed in the grocery stores--paying a lot of money for crap quality food, that pays farmers and farm hands poorly while padding the wallets of the corporate grocery chains. Not to mention all the weird additives (and subtractives?), and preservatives.

In order to avoid the general annoyance of said grocery stores, I opted for another corporate giant-- World Market, where me and my main man spent nearly an hour playing with everything, and leaving with way more than the original intention.

We forked over the cash and left, ready for a simple meal, when Hi-C's phone rang; one of his long time buddies asking if we wanted to carpool to a party. They explained they were leaving for it in 15 minutes.

A party, you wonder? Was that why you were making fancy crackers and hummus from scratch, to take to a party later in the afternoon? Why'd you wait so long to get the tahini if the party started at 5??

Ha ha ha, you silly goon. Of course not! I'd not heard the slightest whisper of party plans up until that moment. So then, after all the planning, cooking, prepping, sweating, and general disarray of a day with nothing in particular to do, we went straight to the party and spent time chatting and meeting new people. Catching up with others, grilling out and rolling down grassy hills (not me, I wasn't about to spill my beer).

And it was perfect.

Now, I'm ready for another 3 day weekend.

matters of the heart

I've mentioned Puloverchito before, but his work is so relevant and beautiful. This (left) is an illustration for an upcoming magazine article on organ donation. It struck a cord this week: I found out a friend has bone cancer and another friend (a waitress at a regular haunt) had a scooter accident and died soon after. The flowers in this image and the message itself are just what I needed after all the heavy news around these parts. But at the same time, long lost friends have appeared again, and the sorrow becomes joy.
I hold onto things with a deep sentiment. It's not always healthy, and used to become a dark pit of depression. I'm learning how to control the deep depression, and appreciate the revolving door of interactions. It's the same with the little bits of waste that end up in my art. Beauty in the overlooked, just waiting for the day where it fits with something perfectly, not unlike love itself.

The image on the right (top image) is from Erin/Yellow Canoe. With all these comings and goings, the thought keeps running through my mind, "Won't you take your coat off and stay awhile?" Just for a brief pause, let's sit quietly and appreciate each other and be each others home for a moment.

So on the theme of old made new again,

this summer I will be in the Old School Show at the Uppercase Gallery. I'm thrilled to be in such excellent company as Abbey Hendrickson and, well, everyone else. I've been clicking on the links as time permits, and finding new and inspiring work each time.

Just as Sweet Jessie said, it's a little bit terrifying!

And they've had a William Shatner themed show. Which, in my book, is just about as cool as it gets. I love me some Shat.

Thank God I'm a Country Girl

In all of the wonder and amazement of how organic has been commodified and turned into a difficult movement of complexities for the rich, I'm amazed that we feel chemical alternatives are so much "easier". So easy, in fact, that the corporations that push them seem to be confused at what's acceptable themselves.

EPA Orders Scotts to Stop Selling Certain Pesticides

I had Rodale's Organic Encyclopedia for 7 or 8 years before I got beyond the number of pages. I used it as a reference and fearfully tended my plants, worried about nutrient balance and bugs galore. It was daunting and seemingly complicated. Then one day I stumbled onto You Grow Girl (thanks to slow day jobs and a growing boredom with crossword puzzles), bought the book and have been digging ever since. And I've learned that it is easy. That the plants that I like will survive and not wage war against my sore muscles. They'll thrive with the proper attention.

It was easy and life changing in the most literal of ways. And ever since, I've grown to realize that the simplest of methods, the ones without too much fretting, are the best approach for me, and often, coincidentally, for the earth.

All of these things that are hip and trendy status symbols, are really just the old timey way of doing things. Keeping things frugal easily equates to living locally. Fresh, local milk, cheese and butter without all the additives has not always been gourmet.

Slow Food? There is nothing slower than waiting for my non-certifiably organic tomatoes to ripen in the garden. I swear.

Reader's Digest put Homemade out originally with a red gingham cover, no mention of green. The new version will appeal to all sorts of treehuggers for sure, but what it boils down to is a book of simple recipes that I can't help but think were passed down by frugal, resourceful farmhouses.

Are we moving back towards the local economy? I'd love to have my bed upstairs and a general store downstairs a la the Olesons (though not so uptight, I think).

I was tagged by Marina of Sewn Fresh Daily a bit ago to present 7 random facts about myself. I think it is the coolest thing in the world that Marina offers her newsletter in snail mail format.

the rules: Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog. Share 7 random and or weird things about yourself. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

1. I love music--really love it. It moves me in ways nothing else can, I think that's because I have no musical ability. Neil Young, Bob Dylan and Willie Nelson are way up near the top.
2. It really bothers me that it's hard for me to find female musicians I can really dig. Tara Jane O'Neil, Julie Doiron, Jodi (of the secret stars) all continually amaze me.
   
3. The older I get, the more I realize only random things make me cry--small, seemingly innocuous moments. These pictures (# 3, especially).
   
4. I have really really really bad anxiety, but I'm working on it. Did I mention really really really bad?
   
5. I have had purple, turquoise, primary red, fuchsia, pepto bismol pink (and probably some other colors I can't remember right now) hair. I want those days back.
   
6. I've told 6 guys I loved them when I was dating them. I knew I was lying when I said it to 4 of them.
   
7. I've taken Spanish, French, American Sign Language and Japanese. I can't remember any of them. One day I'll be fluent in something other than English, I really look forward to that time.
   

Perhaps this is actually more like "7 reasons I'm so emo". Crap. Gotta get my edge back.
But, since I'm toeing the line of sensitivity these days, I think I'll change the meme a bit. I'll tag 7 people out there in internet world to list 7 things they want to learn sometime in their lives. Most of them don't have the time to do this, so if they do, well, I'll jump for joy.

NC Gals:
MoodSwingStudio
India Romeo
Heyday Fashion
Made by Tess

People I don't actually know:
Oh My Cavalier
And just for kicks--Steve Albini. Steve--if you're reading this, you can just post your answers in the comments section. Thanks, buddy!

NC Gal and Person I don't really know:
Brandi Strickland

Today I am the Bermuda Traingle

Okay, weird, I'm not getting the notifications of comments from Blogger. Also, after a bit of checking, I'm not getting notifications of packages from the post office. I am the Bermuda Triangle.

To make a long story short, I purchased the wrong tickets from Priceline, immediately realized and called and they basically said, "Sucks for you. Thanks for the $$."
Ditto for the airline.
That equates to me taking the money for driving up there and back and, well, throwing it in the fire.

It will be a good weekend, though. I slept until 10 AM! I also had a dream that I was at BBB and Tess, Ileana, Neesy, Sappymoosetree, boygirlparty, one good bumblebee, well, okay, everyone I've ever met in internet land was there. I took a job at Starbucks to pay for the trip AND the economy rental car was actually a Barbie remote control car that I used to get to/from work. Let's not read into it too much, okay?
There was a dance competition, not like the kind in 1960s movies, but choreographed group dancing. I think BBB should do that next year. I'd like to sponsor it.

I sold all of the calendars I had available! Hooray! Of course (warning, self asserting plug) I still have lots of other goodies in the shop!
If you're still looking for one,
Modishoppe
IndieNC
the Indie Fixx Shop
have them!

The first image is from the Modish Guest Blog post I did on Bazaar Bizaare.
The second image is from a post I did about La Superette this weekend. Check 'em out!

while on the other coast. . .

The wildfires are spreading.
We all need to do what we can, and now is the right time to start thinking about ways to help.
Marie Rounsavell (aka Marimello) has started a collective to accept donations of goodies. The details are here.
Lemme break it down for you:
You can donate, you can purchase, or you can share your relief-giving experience. There will be oodles of goodies for sale for under $10, and each purchase or donation (including if you just share a fire-relief-giving experience on the blog) will enter you to win a big ol' goodie basket.
It's easy, it's fun, and you get to feel good. Now. Git to gittin'.

Seriously. Or I'll start a long list of the people I know who have been or will be directly affected by these fires. That's a pretty hefty burden to bear.

another meandering down the trail of life

I am still fairly in shock about Vince and Jeff. Vince's funeral is today, as is the first trial for the shooter. He was mad because he was fired.

He. was. mad. because. he. was. fired. from. a. $7.50 an hour. job.
The reality is still just sinking in, I was a "regular" at the restaurant. I joked around with those guys. Vince knew my name. He knew random bits of things about me.
We weren't close friends, but we were more than acquaintances. And this guy, this guy that for whatever reason was fired, just couldn't handle that?!? It doesn't even begin to make sense.
That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard.

The weekend was full of quite times, working on drawings and sewing. Probably a little too much thinking time. But I worked, I absorbed this experience that was just that much closer to home than I'd like. I tried to fathom. Fathoming won't happen.
These pics are all from the last week, this creative storm that takes over as the fall shows start. Again, that particular storm prohibits house work. So the house. . .it's messier, if anything. Still telling myself I'll get to it one day.

Today: Virescent

According to Miriam Webster's:

virescent \vuh-RESS-unt\ adjective

*1 : beginning to be green : greenish
2 : developing or displaying the condition of becoming green due to the development of chloroplasts in plant organs (as petals) normally white or colored

The adjective doesn't obviously correlate to growth from an adult point of view: the green archetype as tender (like shoots from the ground), birth, inexperience, newness, innocence.

But perhaps it is also stripping down, using the layers of the past as the building blocks toward tenderness? "beginning to be green" seems so poignant.

memorable and evocative, Housemartin's post on figs is beautiful to think about through the workday.

Today: Relish

First off, thank you for the kind comments to yesterday's post. I hope I didn't sound hopeless, it's just a very reflective period for me to grow inside...sometimes (well, really most of the time) it's uncomfortable, but growth is always important and essential. If you can tell from my painting storm yesterday, I love the way growth is marked in natural elements: tree rings, shells, geodes. How minor imperfections create the most interesting and beautiful asymmetry.

To get back on track with the point of this blog, this site has a great list of how to rejuvenate the home. I think home rejuvenation is very similar to personal rejuvenation.


Slightly relevant to the last post is a vow to stop holding on to the things that aren't uplifting, and obviously the antithesis to that statement: releasing the layers. Both of these showed up yesterday in a painting storm of quiet tones and a somber mood. After a 6 year battle, my dad's cousin Jean died of cancer. Although I wasn't close to her, she's been a constant in my life as long back as I can remember.

Her death brought out my dad's memories of my own MeMa's (my mom's mom) battle with cancer. I live in her house now, I tend her plants. I was 3 when she died from breast cancer, she lived with it for 3 years. My 30 year old mom had a 10 year old, a 2 year old, a 1 year old and a newborn (me!) when her mom's cancer was diagnosed. She switched roles with her own mom at that point and became caregiver to her mom, along with being mother to 4. My dad said she would get my brother off to school, feed us all, bathe her mother, clothe her mother, feed her, begin the process of feeding the three of us toddlers all over again, pick my brother up from school. . . and so on.

(This is a painting my mom did some time ago. I'm not sure when, but I see this man as a shaman. I find hope in his kind and wrinkly face.)

These are things I never knew, a daily ritual of which I was unaware, but incredibly eye opening. Cancer isn't a battle for one person, it's a battle for many, and for 6 years, Jean and her loved ones won.