well, i did it! i've officially started a new blog. you can find it here.
the inspiration for the title is a bon iver song from his latest album (which is amazing). you can listen the song, beth/rest, here.
i hope that you will all continue to read and follow me in this new space.
b
Monday, September 19, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
100 posts
happy friday everyone.
i am enjoying a really nice day off following a number of days at work and the final (crazy) push for the end of the 100 mile diet event series. it's nice to just sit, listen to some music, check out my favorite blogs and have some time to write on my own. i also bought a dress... good day all over i think!
this is going to be a random one, so hang in there.
first off, i want to send out a THANK YOU to everyone who helped all of the 100 mile events happen. and to the friends and family who rushed to my aid when i wrote a slightly-freaked-out post about how the last event might be canceled. as it turned out, there was no need to worry (i have learned from this experience that everyone procrastinates), and that (sadly) some folks got turned away. nevertheless, the celebration dinner was a delicious, huge success. everyone at CP did an amazing job, and i think folks had a pretty good time! good news is that CP is going to do a series of farmer-inspired dinners, so you didn't totally miss out! also, they're offering cooking classes starting in january. awesome.
moving on from the 100 mile diet, i have a few other little things to share...
this is my 100th post on this blog! i've been thinking for a while that i wanted to start a new bloggy project when this one hit post 100. needless to say, i still don't have a clear vision for what that new project would be, so there's not really any news to share. i might have to push my deadline back. the only good idea to date was something called "every day" with photos or simple lines of text sharing the day with you all. i was thinking it would be a 365 day project.
i am actually quite attached to the title "the dangling conversation." it really seems the perfect way to describe what i'm doing here--chatting out into space, leaving my words dangling in a one-way conversation. sometimes it feels oddly lonely, and other times awesome to have this conversation going with whoever might run across it.
all that said, i'm thinking seriously about re-vamping this blog or starting a side project... so stay tuned, if you want to.
totally unrelated, but i'm 99% sure i've found a camera bag that i like. i've been wanting to get one ever since i inherited my film camera, and i really like the style of this one. and there's space to throw in my little beat up digital guy too, which is great. what do you think? (image found here.)
and finally, one of the things i've been enjoying most lately is retro-fitting recipes to fit our 100 mile diet options. e and i have made some pretty good meals lately, which is a nice change from the first few days of the diet when we had no idea what to do. recent successes included white cheddar and basil stuffed chicken breasts, as well as several different mixed berry cobblers (i'm slowly learning the ropes of whole wheat butter crusts--maybe when i perfect it, i'll post it).
despite this, we pretty much have a constant hankering for carbs. pasta is intimidating, so today i'm turning to potatoes. how about latkes for dinner? oh man, a crispy edged, fluffy, eggy latke with poached eggs (which i've never made!) and greens. yes. i'm hungry. thank you, smitten kitchen for inspiring me with this recipe and this one. yummy.
stay cool out there.
(maybe this beautiful video of iceland will help! enjoy.)
i am enjoying a really nice day off following a number of days at work and the final (crazy) push for the end of the 100 mile diet event series. it's nice to just sit, listen to some music, check out my favorite blogs and have some time to write on my own. i also bought a dress... good day all over i think!
this is going to be a random one, so hang in there.
first off, i want to send out a THANK YOU to everyone who helped all of the 100 mile events happen. and to the friends and family who rushed to my aid when i wrote a slightly-freaked-out post about how the last event might be canceled. as it turned out, there was no need to worry (i have learned from this experience that everyone procrastinates), and that (sadly) some folks got turned away. nevertheless, the celebration dinner was a delicious, huge success. everyone at CP did an amazing job, and i think folks had a pretty good time! good news is that CP is going to do a series of farmer-inspired dinners, so you didn't totally miss out! also, they're offering cooking classes starting in january. awesome.
moving on from the 100 mile diet, i have a few other little things to share...
this is my 100th post on this blog! i've been thinking for a while that i wanted to start a new bloggy project when this one hit post 100. needless to say, i still don't have a clear vision for what that new project would be, so there's not really any news to share. i might have to push my deadline back. the only good idea to date was something called "every day" with photos or simple lines of text sharing the day with you all. i was thinking it would be a 365 day project.
i am actually quite attached to the title "the dangling conversation." it really seems the perfect way to describe what i'm doing here--chatting out into space, leaving my words dangling in a one-way conversation. sometimes it feels oddly lonely, and other times awesome to have this conversation going with whoever might run across it.
all that said, i'm thinking seriously about re-vamping this blog or starting a side project... so stay tuned, if you want to.
totally unrelated, but i'm 99% sure i've found a camera bag that i like. i've been wanting to get one ever since i inherited my film camera, and i really like the style of this one. and there's space to throw in my little beat up digital guy too, which is great. what do you think? (image found here.)
and finally, one of the things i've been enjoying most lately is retro-fitting recipes to fit our 100 mile diet options. e and i have made some pretty good meals lately, which is a nice change from the first few days of the diet when we had no idea what to do. recent successes included white cheddar and basil stuffed chicken breasts, as well as several different mixed berry cobblers (i'm slowly learning the ropes of whole wheat butter crusts--maybe when i perfect it, i'll post it).
despite this, we pretty much have a constant hankering for carbs. pasta is intimidating, so today i'm turning to potatoes. how about latkes for dinner? oh man, a crispy edged, fluffy, eggy latke with poached eggs (which i've never made!) and greens. yes. i'm hungry. thank you, smitten kitchen for inspiring me with this recipe and this one. yummy.
stay cool out there.
(maybe this beautiful video of iceland will help! enjoy.)
Monday, August 22, 2011
favor to ask
hi everyone,
so i know many of you don't live in mac anymore, but if you know people who do, will you please spread the word?
the 100 mile diet challenge has been my major summer project this year. i've sunk a good number of hours into it, and now the last event in our series might have to be canceled because of lack of attendance. the event is an amazing 3 course dinner prepared by some of mac's best chefs and served at community plate restaurant downtown. if it happens, it'll be happening this thursday, the 25th, at 7pm. it's going to be amazing! needless to say, i am bummed that it might be canceled.
all the details are on the slow food blog.
help spread the word!
thanks,
b
so i know many of you don't live in mac anymore, but if you know people who do, will you please spread the word?
the 100 mile diet challenge has been my major summer project this year. i've sunk a good number of hours into it, and now the last event in our series might have to be canceled because of lack of attendance. the event is an amazing 3 course dinner prepared by some of mac's best chefs and served at community plate restaurant downtown. if it happens, it'll be happening this thursday, the 25th, at 7pm. it's going to be amazing! needless to say, i am bummed that it might be canceled.
all the details are on the slow food blog.
help spread the word!
thanks,
b
Monday, August 15, 2011
i finally did it
this morning was the first morning of the 100 mile diet, and i was pretty bummed to realize that my plans to go to a cafe and write today were hamstrung by that endeavor. i really do love spending many hours in cafes...
the alternative to the cafe was my desk. now, some of you (sam) know what a terrible catastrophe the "study" in our apartment is. cat hair and dust and it seems to be the room all of the random crap ends up in (not that you're random crap sam, but i'm sad you have to wedge yourself in there among it!). that said, it's not exactly a place where i feel inspired to write. and so today was spent, instead of at a cafe, in a serious cleaning session. i dusted, i scrubbed a little bit and vacuumed a lot, and dragged around my huge, heavy old desk until the room looked fresh and focused enough to be a place i wanted to spend some time in.
i've been wanting to attack that back room for a long time, but it was daunting in its chaos. another thing that made it daunting were the two or three boxes of school stuff that i packed up after graduation, deposited in the corner of that room, and promptly ignored... for more than a year. it was high time i sorted through those. i found some weird stuff (like flea spot medicine for the cat), but mostly i found reams of paper--much of which now resides in my recycling bin. i had so much paper in that room! old assignments, file folders of carefully organized notes, receipts from two years ago (brilliant financial planning that was), and just piles of tattered paper. it took me about an hour to go through it all. some was jettisoned immediately and without regret (*cough* social methods file), my careful and detailed notes from social theory were harder. as were the many drafts of various poems and essays. i did end up keeping a few things (favorite essays that i wrote--one of which had a glaring grammar error in the first paragraph (dang it!), some favorite readings from various classes, a lot of folders and notebooks to be reused), but the majority is gone. and guess what? there's room for a chair in that room! a nice, cozy reading chair. i might have to go in search of one!
mondays have become my cleaning day it seems. some kind of cleaning project is usually undertaken in the company of loud music and messy clothes. it's pretty rejuvenating for me to do some scrubbing on my days off, and nothing is more gratifying than a clean counter, bathtub, or desk, even if it is the only thing in the apartment that is shiny.
hopefully i will be able to my newly reclaimed desk for some serious writing efforts in the coming weeks. i've always wanted to be one of those people who rolls out of the bed in the morning and does some writing. we'll see if round two with this desk will be more lucrative.
b
the alternative to the cafe was my desk. now, some of you (sam) know what a terrible catastrophe the "study" in our apartment is. cat hair and dust and it seems to be the room all of the random crap ends up in (not that you're random crap sam, but i'm sad you have to wedge yourself in there among it!). that said, it's not exactly a place where i feel inspired to write. and so today was spent, instead of at a cafe, in a serious cleaning session. i dusted, i scrubbed a little bit and vacuumed a lot, and dragged around my huge, heavy old desk until the room looked fresh and focused enough to be a place i wanted to spend some time in.
i've been wanting to attack that back room for a long time, but it was daunting in its chaos. another thing that made it daunting were the two or three boxes of school stuff that i packed up after graduation, deposited in the corner of that room, and promptly ignored... for more than a year. it was high time i sorted through those. i found some weird stuff (like flea spot medicine for the cat), but mostly i found reams of paper--much of which now resides in my recycling bin. i had so much paper in that room! old assignments, file folders of carefully organized notes, receipts from two years ago (brilliant financial planning that was), and just piles of tattered paper. it took me about an hour to go through it all. some was jettisoned immediately and without regret (*cough* social methods file), my careful and detailed notes from social theory were harder. as were the many drafts of various poems and essays. i did end up keeping a few things (favorite essays that i wrote--one of which had a glaring grammar error in the first paragraph (dang it!), some favorite readings from various classes, a lot of folders and notebooks to be reused), but the majority is gone. and guess what? there's room for a chair in that room! a nice, cozy reading chair. i might have to go in search of one!
mondays have become my cleaning day it seems. some kind of cleaning project is usually undertaken in the company of loud music and messy clothes. it's pretty rejuvenating for me to do some scrubbing on my days off, and nothing is more gratifying than a clean counter, bathtub, or desk, even if it is the only thing in the apartment that is shiny.
hopefully i will be able to my newly reclaimed desk for some serious writing efforts in the coming weeks. i've always wanted to be one of those people who rolls out of the bed in the morning and does some writing. we'll see if round two with this desk will be more lucrative.
b
Tuesday, August 09, 2011
time away
just got back last night from 5 days in washington with erik's family. we went on a bike ride, went boating, tossed frisbees, ate a lot of food, sang happy birthday twice, played with dogs, decided we need to figure out what we're doing so we can get a dog.
this morning i'm finishing packing for a 4 day backpacking trip with my family (sunscreen, bug spray, sunscreen, food). time away is refreshing, though i was glad that it felt good to be home last night, even for a very little while.
homes are important. most of the blogs i read write a lot about their homes. check out this amazing home. i'm jealous of their pantone mugs and polaroid camera prints.
be back soon.
b
this morning i'm finishing packing for a 4 day backpacking trip with my family (sunscreen, bug spray, sunscreen, food). time away is refreshing, though i was glad that it felt good to be home last night, even for a very little while.
homes are important. most of the blogs i read write a lot about their homes. check out this amazing home. i'm jealous of their pantone mugs and polaroid camera prints.
be back soon.
b
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
new favorite
Friday, July 22, 2011
yummy!
you all know i love food. i thought i'd share will you all a few of my favorite foodie websites! i've slowly been collecting these guys in my bookmarks menu, which is now heavily skewed in favor of food and pretty food pictures. have fun!
also... mojito party anyone? how about watermelon mojitos? um, yes. did i mention i live directly above a pool?
orangette
i love this site and am totally jealous of molly wizenberg. she's gorgeous, has written one book and is working on another, and also has this little project going on the side... i kind of want her life.
smitten kitchen
thanks mom! ever since she sent me this link, i have eagerly perused deb's site searching for inspiration and always finding it. i've already made a few of her recipes with awesome results. did i mention she also has a book deal and cooks in a 42 square foot kitchen in NYC? ya.
the blue hour
so no, not strictly food--but brian takes amazing photos, and they're often of food. even better. he's a coffee shop groupie like i am, and likes his film camera better than anything. i'm jealous of all of his dinner parties.
b
also... mojito party anyone? how about watermelon mojitos? um, yes. did i mention i live directly above a pool?
orangette
i love this site and am totally jealous of molly wizenberg. she's gorgeous, has written one book and is working on another, and also has this little project going on the side... i kind of want her life.
smitten kitchen
thanks mom! ever since she sent me this link, i have eagerly perused deb's site searching for inspiration and always finding it. i've already made a few of her recipes with awesome results. did i mention she also has a book deal and cooks in a 42 square foot kitchen in NYC? ya.
the blue hour
so no, not strictly food--but brian takes amazing photos, and they're often of food. even better. he's a coffee shop groupie like i am, and likes his film camera better than anything. i'm jealous of all of his dinner parties.
b
Monday, July 18, 2011
inspiration
so many things came together this weekend... friends from far away were all in one place, i had a random weekend day off, i found a new poet whose work is fresh and rooted and that i want to explore more. all of a sudden, because of company, conversation, shared meals--who really knows--i feel more inspired to do things, to sit down with a book i've been putting off, the make bread... even just to get up and start my day.
one of the things my writerly friends and i talked about this weekend was how difficult it is to feel inspired to write. we often write because we wish we wanted to, rather than writing because we feel the need to: the need to capture little things that happen, because we're inspired by a flower, or the way a child searches for a parent's hand, or the way that blackberry bushes smell like blackberries even when the fruit is hard and green on the vine. it doesn't come as easily now. partly, we're distracted/frustrated/exhausted by working. partly we feel guilty for having nothing to say. partly we're frustrated by our weak and whining attempts. mostly we just don't feel inspired. inspiration comes in waves, and the trough in between crests can often feel like a tunnel without that hopeful light that everyone talks (and writes) about.
i've had phases before where i didn't feel like i needed to search for inspiration; instead, it seemed to come from somewhere inside. like i was more sensitive somehow to the fall of light on the table and the emotions written on strangers' faces. sometimes just a tree limb waving in the wind would birth a poem. steinbeck called moments like this "glories." he also wrote that you could measure a man's life by the quality and number of his glories.
in my current phase i often feel like i have to drag inspiration out of the depths, or else shock it into being through some rage-and-awe campaign that tends to fizzle because i'm trying so hard. in terms of glories, i've been a pretty small person lately. inspiration is slippery and sly: it comes unannounced and unbidden, and disappears the moment you search for it.
i suppose all we can really do at moments like this is surround ourselves with inspiring things, and then hope one of them will take root in ourselves. i've long felt the need to surround myself with books, ideas, pretty things, projects, materials, and spaces to explore them just in case something caught light. i'm doing that still. here are a few things that are inspiring me of late:
-this amazing online magazine.
-making meals for friends.
-grocery shopping.
-blank leather journals. (so much space for things to happen in)
-intellectual conversations. (it's amazing how few and far between these seem after college)
-herbal water. (add mint, tarragon, basil, lavender, scented geranium, and so on)
-this young poet.
-carrying my film camera. (ever notice how everything starts looking like a photo?)
what inspires you lately?
b
one of the things my writerly friends and i talked about this weekend was how difficult it is to feel inspired to write. we often write because we wish we wanted to, rather than writing because we feel the need to: the need to capture little things that happen, because we're inspired by a flower, or the way a child searches for a parent's hand, or the way that blackberry bushes smell like blackberries even when the fruit is hard and green on the vine. it doesn't come as easily now. partly, we're distracted/frustrated/exhausted by working. partly we feel guilty for having nothing to say. partly we're frustrated by our weak and whining attempts. mostly we just don't feel inspired. inspiration comes in waves, and the trough in between crests can often feel like a tunnel without that hopeful light that everyone talks (and writes) about.
i've had phases before where i didn't feel like i needed to search for inspiration; instead, it seemed to come from somewhere inside. like i was more sensitive somehow to the fall of light on the table and the emotions written on strangers' faces. sometimes just a tree limb waving in the wind would birth a poem. steinbeck called moments like this "glories." he also wrote that you could measure a man's life by the quality and number of his glories.
in my current phase i often feel like i have to drag inspiration out of the depths, or else shock it into being through some rage-and-awe campaign that tends to fizzle because i'm trying so hard. in terms of glories, i've been a pretty small person lately. inspiration is slippery and sly: it comes unannounced and unbidden, and disappears the moment you search for it.
i suppose all we can really do at moments like this is surround ourselves with inspiring things, and then hope one of them will take root in ourselves. i've long felt the need to surround myself with books, ideas, pretty things, projects, materials, and spaces to explore them just in case something caught light. i'm doing that still. here are a few things that are inspiring me of late:
-this amazing online magazine.
-making meals for friends.
-grocery shopping.
-blank leather journals. (so much space for things to happen in)
-intellectual conversations. (it's amazing how few and far between these seem after college)
(from sequimblog.com)
-lavender and lavender cotton.-herbal water. (add mint, tarragon, basil, lavender, scented geranium, and so on)
-this young poet.
-carrying my film camera. (ever notice how everything starts looking like a photo?)
what inspires you lately?
b
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
time off
time off means having the time to make a real breakfast and sit down to enjoy it. (this morning: coffee and a fried egg on toast with avocado and salsa.) time to listen to the radio story about biodynamic farming. time to finish long delayed projects. (the flier for the 100 mile diet is finally done! what do you think of the logo?)
time off means time to scrub the bathroom until it shines instead of grimes. time to find new favorite things online, here and here. time to go to the beach with friends. time for bad mexican food on the way home from an ocean dip. brrr.
b
time off means time to scrub the bathroom until it shines instead of grimes. time to find new favorite things online, here and here. time to go to the beach with friends. time for bad mexican food on the way home from an ocean dip. brrr.
b
Tuesday, July 05, 2011
recent favorites
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
midsummer
um what? come again...
can you believe it? it's already midsummer, the longest day of the year, almost the end of june. it looks like it's going to be a beautiful one too.
summer this year has seemed a bit like some surreal fantasy or dream, but here i am wearing a skirt and tank top for the first time in for-ev-er. i guess we can't deny it anymore.
with summertime officially upon us, i've been thinking about how un-official summer feels this year; kind of accidental, kind of sneaky. partly it's the rainy weather. partly it's the lack of skirt-wearing and general adventure-having that i've had so far... but i think the major difference is that summer no longer means freedom: in fact, it means working more hours, struggling to get time off to get out of town, and wishing that i wasn't missing out on the days that are actually sunny because i'm at work. hmm. doesn't quite have the same ring as pool parties and hiking trips and watermelon seed spitting contests in the back yard, and three months without homework. hopefully my growing tomato plants, itchy chaco sunburn, and a weekend away will help it feel a little more summery around here.
that's right, erik and i are leaving mcminnville. for like four whole days. can you tell this is monumental? after so long working opposite schedules, and feeling too tired at the end of the day to do a whole lot more than a bike ride (well, mostly erik does that), a salad for dinner, and a beer, we have four whole days to ourselves! we're going to cook real meals! three times a day! we're going to scorn alarm clocks! i'm going to bring a couple new recipes to try, read a book for our book club, go kayaking, get another sunburn, maybe even write sitting out on the deck with a glass of wine. we might buy some illegal fireworks! ahhh vacation... why do you come so rarely?
hopefully you are all finding ways to celebrate the summery days. i'll see you after vacation.
b
can you believe it? it's already midsummer, the longest day of the year, almost the end of june. it looks like it's going to be a beautiful one too.
summer this year has seemed a bit like some surreal fantasy or dream, but here i am wearing a skirt and tank top for the first time in for-ev-er. i guess we can't deny it anymore.
with summertime officially upon us, i've been thinking about how un-official summer feels this year; kind of accidental, kind of sneaky. partly it's the rainy weather. partly it's the lack of skirt-wearing and general adventure-having that i've had so far... but i think the major difference is that summer no longer means freedom: in fact, it means working more hours, struggling to get time off to get out of town, and wishing that i wasn't missing out on the days that are actually sunny because i'm at work. hmm. doesn't quite have the same ring as pool parties and hiking trips and watermelon seed spitting contests in the back yard, and three months without homework. hopefully my growing tomato plants, itchy chaco sunburn, and a weekend away will help it feel a little more summery around here.
that's right, erik and i are leaving mcminnville. for like four whole days. can you tell this is monumental? after so long working opposite schedules, and feeling too tired at the end of the day to do a whole lot more than a bike ride (well, mostly erik does that), a salad for dinner, and a beer, we have four whole days to ourselves! we're going to cook real meals! three times a day! we're going to scorn alarm clocks! i'm going to bring a couple new recipes to try, read a book for our book club, go kayaking, get another sunburn, maybe even write sitting out on the deck with a glass of wine. we might buy some illegal fireworks! ahhh vacation... why do you come so rarely?
hopefully you are all finding ways to celebrate the summery days. i'll see you after vacation.
b
Friday, June 03, 2011
meals from the market
yesterday was the farmer's market, and today it's sunny. hooray!
last night i shared an amazing meal with friends inspired by goods we got at market. on the menu: green salad with green garlic dressing, german potato salad, hazelnut crusted salmon fillet, rhubarb muffins, and strawberry sandwiches. and strawberries. how do i always forget how delicious strawberries are??
happily this was a meal well-shared, if not well photographed. i hope i can get better about that now that summertime is in the near future.
last night's meal left me feeling inspired, but also a little anxious. i can't remember if i mentioned this before, but erik and i are going to be doing a 100 mile diet experiment this summer. for the month of august, we're going to eat only food sourced within one hundred miles of little mcminnville. as we get closer and closer to the start of our experiment, and i get deeper and deeper into planning for the SFYC 100 Mile Diet Challenge, i get more excited and slightly more frantic.
i'm excited for this because (1) it will force me to get back in the kitchen, which has been looking sadly neglected lately, (2) i will have to kick the coffee habit, something i've been wanting to try for more than a year but have never been motivated enough to do, and (3) i will get to learn so much about the foodshed here. i can't wait to find the best u-pick places, to freeze blueberries, eat hazelnuts and walnuts instead of almonds, figure out how to make pasta by hand, discover local distilleries, drink local milk from local cows, and shake up some butter in a jar. there'll be no excuse to not cook dinner because i can just boil some noodles and open a can (yes, we all do that). no excuse not to go to market, because that is where a huge chunk of our food is going to come from. and i'll have the excuse to go on fieldtrips! to the cheese factory!
at the same time, it's summer... and in a little while here i'm not going to want to spend time inside rolling out pasta or making yogurt, or... i don't even know: doing all those things that convenience foods keep me from doing. will i be able to fit it all in? will i be hungry all of the time? because i'm kind of that way as is... and if i can't reach for a clif bar or crackers i'm going to have to do some planning to make sure i don't bite off someone's head in a blood sugar low point.
in preparation for this endeavor, i've been re-reading plenty, a great book written by a couple in BC who did a 100 mile diet for a whole year. it's funny, carefree, and honest about the hardships and adjustments involved. they didn't drink coffee... but they did live in a region with a similar climate and food culture. this morning i read about their trials living without any wheat product. life without bread?? and pasta?? that's like seventy percent of my diet right there. oh boy. this is going to be interesting.
they also write at length about just how difficult and endeavor like this is. i mean, where do you draw the line? local cheese made from local milk... but are the seasonings in it local? what about the enzymes and cultures used to make it into cheese? what about rennet? where do you draw the line? i know that in my book coffee roasted locally won't be making the cut, but will olive oil that contains a blend of oregon and california fruit? or that delicious chipotle goat cheese at market that contains cumin? what am i going to do about salt? only use the stuff left in my cabinet at the start of august? boil some seawater on my next beach trip? go without? there are so many judgment calls to make!
good thing is, i'm already thinking about it. in a couple of months i should have a little list of farms and other resources in hand to help alleviate my worries. at least i hope i will. in the meantime, i'm going to enjoy meals from the market, and still use that european sea salt, cane sugar from the tropics, and pepper from who knows where (you really should try the strawberry sandwiches from last night--directions are at the end of this). maybe this will be my chance to learn about sweetening with honey... and hopefully i won't be hungry all month.
b
strawberry sandwiches.
yep. they're pretty much exactly what they sound like.
choose your bread and slice it thinly. butter with delicious sweet butter. layer with sliced strawberries. sprinkle over a little sugar (vanilla sugar if you have it!), and a crack of black pepper (don't skip this). let sit so the strawberries release their juices. eat. yum.
last night i shared an amazing meal with friends inspired by goods we got at market. on the menu: green salad with green garlic dressing, german potato salad, hazelnut crusted salmon fillet, rhubarb muffins, and strawberry sandwiches. and strawberries. how do i always forget how delicious strawberries are??
happily this was a meal well-shared, if not well photographed. i hope i can get better about that now that summertime is in the near future.
last night's meal left me feeling inspired, but also a little anxious. i can't remember if i mentioned this before, but erik and i are going to be doing a 100 mile diet experiment this summer. for the month of august, we're going to eat only food sourced within one hundred miles of little mcminnville. as we get closer and closer to the start of our experiment, and i get deeper and deeper into planning for the SFYC 100 Mile Diet Challenge, i get more excited and slightly more frantic.
i'm excited for this because (1) it will force me to get back in the kitchen, which has been looking sadly neglected lately, (2) i will have to kick the coffee habit, something i've been wanting to try for more than a year but have never been motivated enough to do, and (3) i will get to learn so much about the foodshed here. i can't wait to find the best u-pick places, to freeze blueberries, eat hazelnuts and walnuts instead of almonds, figure out how to make pasta by hand, discover local distilleries, drink local milk from local cows, and shake up some butter in a jar. there'll be no excuse to not cook dinner because i can just boil some noodles and open a can (yes, we all do that). no excuse not to go to market, because that is where a huge chunk of our food is going to come from. and i'll have the excuse to go on fieldtrips! to the cheese factory!
at the same time, it's summer... and in a little while here i'm not going to want to spend time inside rolling out pasta or making yogurt, or... i don't even know: doing all those things that convenience foods keep me from doing. will i be able to fit it all in? will i be hungry all of the time? because i'm kind of that way as is... and if i can't reach for a clif bar or crackers i'm going to have to do some planning to make sure i don't bite off someone's head in a blood sugar low point.
in preparation for this endeavor, i've been re-reading plenty, a great book written by a couple in BC who did a 100 mile diet for a whole year. it's funny, carefree, and honest about the hardships and adjustments involved. they didn't drink coffee... but they did live in a region with a similar climate and food culture. this morning i read about their trials living without any wheat product. life without bread?? and pasta?? that's like seventy percent of my diet right there. oh boy. this is going to be interesting.
they also write at length about just how difficult and endeavor like this is. i mean, where do you draw the line? local cheese made from local milk... but are the seasonings in it local? what about the enzymes and cultures used to make it into cheese? what about rennet? where do you draw the line? i know that in my book coffee roasted locally won't be making the cut, but will olive oil that contains a blend of oregon and california fruit? or that delicious chipotle goat cheese at market that contains cumin? what am i going to do about salt? only use the stuff left in my cabinet at the start of august? boil some seawater on my next beach trip? go without? there are so many judgment calls to make!
good thing is, i'm already thinking about it. in a couple of months i should have a little list of farms and other resources in hand to help alleviate my worries. at least i hope i will. in the meantime, i'm going to enjoy meals from the market, and still use that european sea salt, cane sugar from the tropics, and pepper from who knows where (you really should try the strawberry sandwiches from last night--directions are at the end of this). maybe this will be my chance to learn about sweetening with honey... and hopefully i won't be hungry all month.
b
strawberry sandwiches.
yep. they're pretty much exactly what they sound like.
choose your bread and slice it thinly. butter with delicious sweet butter. layer with sliced strawberries. sprinkle over a little sugar (vanilla sugar if you have it!), and a crack of black pepper (don't skip this). let sit so the strawberries release their juices. eat. yum.
Friday, May 27, 2011
reprieve
unexpectedly, no work today. ahhhh. i think my heart rate just slowed to a healthy level again. i was up and about extra early so i could get other things done before heading to work... and now i'm enough ahead of the game to take some beth time. maybe i'll watch a movie! or bake a rhubarb cake! or just take a nap.
before i do that though, i'll have a chance to catch up on important things.
like reviewing this book for slow food:
packed with awesome information about food raising, sourcing, and prepping, as well as gorgeous photos and thoughtful commentary on food and just how important it is. originally written for a british audience and now expanded for us americans, this is one of the best comprehensive cookbooks i've had the pleasure to read. highly recommended.
plus i have poetry waiting for me:
neruda, ryan, cummings, and more. not to mention working on some of my own.
i can't get this kay ryan poem out of my head...
Stations
As the
veldt dries,
the great cats
range farther
to drink,
their paths
looping past
this or that
ex-oasis.
However long
the water's
been gone,
no places
are missed:
despite thirst,
every once-
deep pool
is rehearsed.
It's strange
the way our
route can't be
straightened:
how some
cruel faith
keeps the
stations.
enjoy your weekend.
before i do that though, i'll have a chance to catch up on important things.
like reviewing this book for slow food:
packed with awesome information about food raising, sourcing, and prepping, as well as gorgeous photos and thoughtful commentary on food and just how important it is. originally written for a british audience and now expanded for us americans, this is one of the best comprehensive cookbooks i've had the pleasure to read. highly recommended.
plus i have poetry waiting for me:
neruda, ryan, cummings, and more. not to mention working on some of my own.
i can't get this kay ryan poem out of my head...
Stations
As the
veldt dries,
the great cats
range farther
to drink,
their paths
looping past
this or that
ex-oasis.
However long
the water's
been gone,
no places
are missed:
despite thirst,
every once-
deep pool
is rehearsed.
It's strange
the way our
route can't be
straightened:
how some
cruel faith
keeps the
stations.
enjoy your weekend.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
take a breath, beth
it feels like i'm always at work lately. i know that it isn't true, but it feels that way. and when i work weekends and erik works weeks, it means there are few adventures happening. not to mention that every evening, one of the two of us is exhausted and the other wants to get out and do something... it isn't the smoothest arrangement for sure.
i'm going to be increasing my role at the bookstore once again... a behind-the-scenes sort of job that i think will suit me, but still worries me. last summer i worked two jobs and NEVER, NEVER had any time for myself. i refuse to do that again. but if i'm going to have control over this work schedule, i need to be brave enough to stand up for myself. wish me luck.
today, during my second work day of the day, a couple came in to the shop up at red ridge. they were visiting from l.a. and when i asked them what brought them to the dundee hills, they said "we just needed to get away." i've been feeling that way lately too. it wouldn't take much. a day at the coast. a nice hike somewhere. time to hang out with erik without other things hanging over us.
soon. it'll happen soon. in the meantime, i'm enjoying pictures of other people's escapes.
b
i'm going to be increasing my role at the bookstore once again... a behind-the-scenes sort of job that i think will suit me, but still worries me. last summer i worked two jobs and NEVER, NEVER had any time for myself. i refuse to do that again. but if i'm going to have control over this work schedule, i need to be brave enough to stand up for myself. wish me luck.
today, during my second work day of the day, a couple came in to the shop up at red ridge. they were visiting from l.a. and when i asked them what brought them to the dundee hills, they said "we just needed to get away." i've been feeling that way lately too. it wouldn't take much. a day at the coast. a nice hike somewhere. time to hang out with erik without other things hanging over us.
soon. it'll happen soon. in the meantime, i'm enjoying pictures of other people's escapes.
b
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
overzealous? maybe. overbudget? definitely.
so... i don't know about you, but recently my "plant things!! !!!" urge has been running out of control. when this happens, it also tends to mean other things get out of control. this morning i logged on to my bank accounts and i saw exactly how out of control...
turns out all of that compost, potting soil, plant start, flowers, herbs, and seed, and "what to do with all of this" book buying has made a dent. my bank also has this great little thing online that tracks and categorizes your purchases and then makes terrifying bar graphs and pie charts to show you how you've been mis-spending your money. it even has budget recommendations and says in VERY large font size if you're living within your means or not. lovely. useful. yikes. it appears that i have already managed to go over my budget for the month. oops. i blame it on the plants.
how could i pass these sorts of things up though?
lovely dianthus
spitfire climbing nasturtiums
climbing black-eyed susans
not to mention the lovage, peppermint, hot pink geranium, parsley, arugula, and much more. mmm. my balcony will be pretty (and probably groaning under the weight of everything), but i can't spend any more money on planting things this month.
b
turns out all of that compost, potting soil, plant start, flowers, herbs, and seed, and "what to do with all of this" book buying has made a dent. my bank also has this great little thing online that tracks and categorizes your purchases and then makes terrifying bar graphs and pie charts to show you how you've been mis-spending your money. it even has budget recommendations and says in VERY large font size if you're living within your means or not. lovely. useful. yikes. it appears that i have already managed to go over my budget for the month. oops. i blame it on the plants.
how could i pass these sorts of things up though?
lovely dianthusspitfire climbing nasturtiumsclimbing black-eyed susansnot to mention the lovage, peppermint, hot pink geranium, parsley, arugula, and much more. mmm. my balcony will be pretty (and probably groaning under the weight of everything), but i can't spend any more money on planting things this month.
b
Friday, May 06, 2011
summertime plans
Friday, April 29, 2011
today
feeling inspired by 3191 Q:
drinking a dirty chai.
bought some beautiful, well-loved books including:
really looking forward to reading this one. his first book was incredible.
took a walk. the camas is starting to bloom.
reflecting on some great conversations with the guy who wrote this.
listening to old mixes gifted by friends.
took pictures of (mostly) bare oak trees against a blue sky.
also, this video. thanks, erik.
good day.
b
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
realization
i had a small but good realization today: i am content with my work schedule, for the first time in a long while. this morning i did my little bit of work for trade at the bookstore, and realized that i was happy not to be working there anymore. since i was so unhappy leaving, i think this is a healthy shift. also today, i spent several hours in union block, as i am apt to do on days when i work on the slow food blog, and i realized that i am also glad that i'm not working there anymore. i'm glad to be working somewhere that isn't a place i hang out in normally. i'm glad to be working out of town, closer to the countryside that i miss living in. i'm glad to be working in the food field again. i'm glad to be reading gardening books and learning to make planting schedules, and making long lists of new agriculture books i want to read. i'm glad to be inspired to cook again. i'm glad that it's spring (sort of) and that i have summer to look forward to. i'm glad that i don't struggle to wake up every single morning anymore. i'm glad that erik and i are living here for a while still, in this beautiful valley, and that we're going on bike rides together.
so many things to be glad for.
only one thing i wish i was doing more of: writing. something not on one of my blogs, but in an honest to goodness notebook, something of poetry form.
b
ps> i kind of want to start a new, visual project. maybe something like this: http://littlepostcards.blogspot.com/
so many things to be glad for.
only one thing i wish i was doing more of: writing. something not on one of my blogs, but in an honest to goodness notebook, something of poetry form.
b
ps> i kind of want to start a new, visual project. maybe something like this: http://littlepostcards.blogspot.com/
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
routine
i've always known that i like routine. i usually eat at the same times every day, and maintaining a regular bedtime definitely helps me feel less crazy. i liked my college schedule a lot because i always knew what i was supposed to be doing with the various chunks of my day. even better than college was how, when i was living at home, daily chores were the basis of everyone's schedule: the animals shaped it with their morning feeding, lunchtime feeding, night time feeding... it breaks the day up into manageable three or four hour pieces, gives it all a sense of rhythm.
without these outside structures, and with a slightly-crazy, always-changing work schedule, i've been struggling lately to reestablish a routine. some weekends i'm gone all day, others for just a few hours in the middle. sometimes i don't work at all during the week, and have to find creative ways to fill my time and stay productive. without a real, pressing reason to get up in the morning, it's easy to stay in bed too long. without an obvious conclusion to the day, it's all too easy to eat dinner at 9:30 at night (have you noticed yourself doing this since the time change? i sure have been...). it all circles back around to that discipline thing i've talked about before, and my general lack thereof.
one morning routine that i have been practicing lately is this: wake up pretty early (around 5:30 lately--the birds are really loud!). the alarm goes off at 6:30 and i listen to erik trundle through his morning routine. then i get up, early-ish still (usually no later than eight). i don't bother taking a shower unless i'm heading to work, bundle up (it's been pretty chilly recently), and put the kettle on. grind up my coffee and fill the french press. let it steep while i make oatmeal or pour some granola over my yogurt. then i sit down at the kitchen table and read. i've been resisting turning on the radio or listening to music: i just sip and sit there with my book and my pencil. it's really therapeutic.
i like spending my mornings this way. it is really nice not to feel rushed in the morning, and this way i even get some quiet time before heading to work. it's nice to start the day with someone else's thoughts, not my own: i've learned that writing early in the morning is too taxing for me. i need a little time to warm up and get my juices flowing. early afternoon seems the best time to tackle that. i'm thinking that come summertime and mornings that don't make me shiver, i might change to green tea in the mornings, rather than coffee.
hooray for routines, and saner-feeling days.
b
without these outside structures, and with a slightly-crazy, always-changing work schedule, i've been struggling lately to reestablish a routine. some weekends i'm gone all day, others for just a few hours in the middle. sometimes i don't work at all during the week, and have to find creative ways to fill my time and stay productive. without a real, pressing reason to get up in the morning, it's easy to stay in bed too long. without an obvious conclusion to the day, it's all too easy to eat dinner at 9:30 at night (have you noticed yourself doing this since the time change? i sure have been...). it all circles back around to that discipline thing i've talked about before, and my general lack thereof.
one morning routine that i have been practicing lately is this: wake up pretty early (around 5:30 lately--the birds are really loud!). the alarm goes off at 6:30 and i listen to erik trundle through his morning routine. then i get up, early-ish still (usually no later than eight). i don't bother taking a shower unless i'm heading to work, bundle up (it's been pretty chilly recently), and put the kettle on. grind up my coffee and fill the french press. let it steep while i make oatmeal or pour some granola over my yogurt. then i sit down at the kitchen table and read. i've been resisting turning on the radio or listening to music: i just sip and sit there with my book and my pencil. it's really therapeutic.
i like spending my mornings this way. it is really nice not to feel rushed in the morning, and this way i even get some quiet time before heading to work. it's nice to start the day with someone else's thoughts, not my own: i've learned that writing early in the morning is too taxing for me. i need a little time to warm up and get my juices flowing. early afternoon seems the best time to tackle that. i'm thinking that come summertime and mornings that don't make me shiver, i might change to green tea in the mornings, rather than coffee.
hooray for routines, and saner-feeling days.
b
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
pretty things
bob marley playing in the sunshine.
apple-patterned notebooks.
w.s. merwin.
collections at 3191.
delicate silver jewelry from elephantine.
rainbow-colored recycled leather journals from kate's paperie.
footed mug from back creek pottery.
people opening doors for each other at the cafe.
bicycles.
scottish shortbread.
getting a few photos printed.
in the past two weeks or so i have rearranged a good portion of my apartment, planted seeds for the garden, invested in herb plants for my balcony, started a new writing notebook, and rescued some branches from the park to decorate the living room. today, i'm going to take the first steps to have a few of my photos printed so that i can work on framing them and finding them a venue. why not, right?
the other day i wrote a really long, totally incoherent and rambling journal entry about struggling to justify my enjoyment of pretty things and making them, because (1) they are things, (2) some of them are dubious in origin, and (3) shouldn't i be simplifying and de-cluttering, rather than collecting more things?
i know that i am prone to clinging to things... objects that i bring home because they are pretty (weeds from the ditch, unusually shaped jars, yet another colorful mug); old items of clothing or paper that i don't really use, but have some memory associated with them; piles of magazines that i keep on hand for "inspiration," but don't do much more with. i have so many little collections hanging around. erik regularly reminds me that every time he clears a space around the house, i tend to fill it with something. this is distressing for his clutter-hating soul, and i feel guilty when my stuff starts sprawling all over the place, leaving him (and myself) very little clear space in which to breathe.
i think that i hang on to these little bits of prettiness because i am as equally prone to losing sight of them, as i am prone to bring them into my cluttered house. i don't know if this is a reasonable justification or not, but i'm going to stick with it for a bit. i do a lot of reading and thinking about issues that are scary and overwhelming--global warming, poverty, insecurity of food systems, my own little future. so i surround myself with pretty little things that remind me why i should keep caring. these are bits of the world that are worth keeping around: daffodils and pretty paper to send notes on, cake pans to bake things and thermoses to keep things warm, thoughts and photos that can point out what i find beautiful in the world, books to share with friends.
some things are worth hanging on to, but the recent post on 3191 encouraged me not to cling to my collections too much. it's probably time to take down the thistles and other dried weeds i had in my winter window, and embrace flowers and tins cans planted with lettuce for the spring. i don't need to save every piece of paper i ever wrote anything on, ever. i can shrink my dishes collections to just the ones i use regularly. i can get rid of those extra pairs of shoes and shirts that don't quite fit anymore. not only is it simplifying, it is making room for newer and better things that reflect how i feel right now, rather than three months ago. healthier, yes?
and anything that makes more room for sunshine and inspiration is good.
b
ps> here are a few of the pictures i'm having printed. what do you think?
"edges"
"decay"
"angled"
"outlook"
"opal"
apple-patterned notebooks.
w.s. merwin.
collections at 3191.
delicate silver jewelry from elephantine.
rainbow-colored recycled leather journals from kate's paperie.
footed mug from back creek pottery.
people opening doors for each other at the cafe.
bicycles.
scottish shortbread.
getting a few photos printed.
in the past two weeks or so i have rearranged a good portion of my apartment, planted seeds for the garden, invested in herb plants for my balcony, started a new writing notebook, and rescued some branches from the park to decorate the living room. today, i'm going to take the first steps to have a few of my photos printed so that i can work on framing them and finding them a venue. why not, right?
the other day i wrote a really long, totally incoherent and rambling journal entry about struggling to justify my enjoyment of pretty things and making them, because (1) they are things, (2) some of them are dubious in origin, and (3) shouldn't i be simplifying and de-cluttering, rather than collecting more things?
i know that i am prone to clinging to things... objects that i bring home because they are pretty (weeds from the ditch, unusually shaped jars, yet another colorful mug); old items of clothing or paper that i don't really use, but have some memory associated with them; piles of magazines that i keep on hand for "inspiration," but don't do much more with. i have so many little collections hanging around. erik regularly reminds me that every time he clears a space around the house, i tend to fill it with something. this is distressing for his clutter-hating soul, and i feel guilty when my stuff starts sprawling all over the place, leaving him (and myself) very little clear space in which to breathe.
i think that i hang on to these little bits of prettiness because i am as equally prone to losing sight of them, as i am prone to bring them into my cluttered house. i don't know if this is a reasonable justification or not, but i'm going to stick with it for a bit. i do a lot of reading and thinking about issues that are scary and overwhelming--global warming, poverty, insecurity of food systems, my own little future. so i surround myself with pretty little things that remind me why i should keep caring. these are bits of the world that are worth keeping around: daffodils and pretty paper to send notes on, cake pans to bake things and thermoses to keep things warm, thoughts and photos that can point out what i find beautiful in the world, books to share with friends.
some things are worth hanging on to, but the recent post on 3191 encouraged me not to cling to my collections too much. it's probably time to take down the thistles and other dried weeds i had in my winter window, and embrace flowers and tins cans planted with lettuce for the spring. i don't need to save every piece of paper i ever wrote anything on, ever. i can shrink my dishes collections to just the ones i use regularly. i can get rid of those extra pairs of shoes and shirts that don't quite fit anymore. not only is it simplifying, it is making room for newer and better things that reflect how i feel right now, rather than three months ago. healthier, yes?
and anything that makes more room for sunshine and inspiration is good.
b
ps> here are a few of the pictures i'm having printed. what do you think?
"edges"
"decay"
"angled"
"outlook"
"opal"
Wednesday, April 06, 2011
recipes and a project to share
i'd like to say that i've been cooking more than normal lately, but that wouldn't be entirely true. i have, however, been stockpiling recipes.
one theme in those recipes is olive oil. since starting work at red ridge, i often find myself with a couple of bottles of olive oil sitting in the kitchen begging to be made into something delicious. i love olive oil in all its traditional places--salads, pasta, drizzled on veggies or soups--but i am very, very intrigued by olive oil in less obvious applications. lately, i've been experimenting with olive oil in sweet and baked things... and it is awesome.
so far my favorite tasty treat is definitely olive oil granola. it's literally that simple: swap out boring old canola for some green, grassy olive oil, and your granola instantly gets a flavor boost. the recipe i've been using also adds about twice the salt as normal granola, which makes it into a sweet and savory treat that is really hard to stop eating.
another success was a blood orange olive oil cake (both the granola and cake were from melissa clark's in the kitchen with a good appetite). this was a dense, moist pound-cake like loaf. strewn with orange supremes (mine were just regular oranges, not the bloody kind), fresh orange juice, AND(!) orange zest. yummers. it didn't last long.
yesterday i tested out another olive oil dessert--olive oil banana bread. now, i'm not a big fan of bananas... but banana bread, that's pretty tasty. (not as good as zucchini bread, but we're months away from summery squash like that--i can't wait to make that with olive oil!). if you have any bananas in your house that are passing their fresh-eating expiration date, i highly recommend popping them into the freezer, going out and buying some good olive oil and a few lemons, and making this tasty bread. you can find the recipe here.
also, i didn't have any lemons on hand, so i made it with orange zest, and it turned out just fine. think about halving the chocolate so you can enjoy more savory-sweet bready crumbs.
the other theme in my recipe hounding lately has been salad. SALAD! it's spring and i want salad! i can't wait until the snap peas are here! in the meantime (and until i have some uber-fresh lettuce of my own), i'm hoping to experiment with homemade salad dressings. about a month ago i made a delicious winter salad that involved italian sausage, garlic, and radicchio. delish. now, i'm thinking about trying creamy dijon dressing over some hot-from-the-oven roasted potatoes. and i already have a few fresh, herby vinaigrette recipes saved for when the baby lettuces come my way.
you can read about my recent salad dressing realization, and find recipes for a few, at my other project: the yamhill county slow food blog. getting involved with slow food has been really fun so far, and i'm looking forward to summery weather when we'll have more flexibility in the kinds of events we can put on. in the meantime, i'm really enjoying writing posts and sharing recipes through the site. give it a look and let me know what you think! and if you like it... pass it on to other folks! i'm trying to get it some more traffic, and every click counts. if you're feeling brave, you could even leave a comment. :)
b
one theme in those recipes is olive oil. since starting work at red ridge, i often find myself with a couple of bottles of olive oil sitting in the kitchen begging to be made into something delicious. i love olive oil in all its traditional places--salads, pasta, drizzled on veggies or soups--but i am very, very intrigued by olive oil in less obvious applications. lately, i've been experimenting with olive oil in sweet and baked things... and it is awesome.
so far my favorite tasty treat is definitely olive oil granola. it's literally that simple: swap out boring old canola for some green, grassy olive oil, and your granola instantly gets a flavor boost. the recipe i've been using also adds about twice the salt as normal granola, which makes it into a sweet and savory treat that is really hard to stop eating.
another success was a blood orange olive oil cake (both the granola and cake were from melissa clark's in the kitchen with a good appetite). this was a dense, moist pound-cake like loaf. strewn with orange supremes (mine were just regular oranges, not the bloody kind), fresh orange juice, AND(!) orange zest. yummers. it didn't last long.
yesterday i tested out another olive oil dessert--olive oil banana bread. now, i'm not a big fan of bananas... but banana bread, that's pretty tasty. (not as good as zucchini bread, but we're months away from summery squash like that--i can't wait to make that with olive oil!). if you have any bananas in your house that are passing their fresh-eating expiration date, i highly recommend popping them into the freezer, going out and buying some good olive oil and a few lemons, and making this tasty bread. you can find the recipe here.
also, i didn't have any lemons on hand, so i made it with orange zest, and it turned out just fine. think about halving the chocolate so you can enjoy more savory-sweet bready crumbs.
the other theme in my recipe hounding lately has been salad. SALAD! it's spring and i want salad! i can't wait until the snap peas are here! in the meantime (and until i have some uber-fresh lettuce of my own), i'm hoping to experiment with homemade salad dressings. about a month ago i made a delicious winter salad that involved italian sausage, garlic, and radicchio. delish. now, i'm thinking about trying creamy dijon dressing over some hot-from-the-oven roasted potatoes. and i already have a few fresh, herby vinaigrette recipes saved for when the baby lettuces come my way.
you can read about my recent salad dressing realization, and find recipes for a few, at my other project: the yamhill county slow food blog. getting involved with slow food has been really fun so far, and i'm looking forward to summery weather when we'll have more flexibility in the kinds of events we can put on. in the meantime, i'm really enjoying writing posts and sharing recipes through the site. give it a look and let me know what you think! and if you like it... pass it on to other folks! i'm trying to get it some more traffic, and every click counts. if you're feeling brave, you could even leave a comment. :)
b
Monday, March 28, 2011
a hard balance
as i wrote a couple of posts ago, i've been reading a lot. much of that reading has been nonfiction, and not only that, but nonfiction topics that are especially difficult or exhausting to read about for long stretches. i am currently two-thirds of the way through mark hertsgaard's great new book on climate change, hot. hertsgaard does an amazing job of balancing frank reporting and a hopeful outlook: he doesn't shrink from telling the truth about the severity of impending climate change, or how dire it will be if we don't act now, or how royally we have screwed up most climate initiatives thus far. he is a harsh critic of action (or lack of action) in the face of this crisis all across the globe--personal, business-sector, and political fronts included. at the same time, he dedicated this book to his five year old daughter... and he manages to remain hopeful about the possibility of meaningful and effective action being achieved here and now. it's a hard balance.
this morning i read the bulk of the chapter on food, perfectly titled "how will we feed ourselves?" in it, hertsgaard writes unflinchingly about the failings of the modern agro-economic system: soil degradation, over-tapping of groundwater resources, pursuit of profit over quality, chemical overuse and run off, and continued food inequities and widespread malnutrition. he talks about how china's northern plains will run out of water by 2030, how the american midwest will be baked by scorching high temperatures three summers out of four, and how the global population, projected to hit 9 billion by 2050, will require that our food systems continue to increase yields despite rapidly escalating climate pressures. will industrial agriculture feed the world? no. but organic agriculture as it stands today probably won't either. there are good answers to this question, but they require more innovation, investment, and forward thinking that doesn't exist on a large scale right now.
and then he travels to the african sahel, and finds people there who are lifting themselves out of poverty and hunger by employing simultaneously novel and old agricultural techniques. their efforts include allowing native trees to grow interspersed with their crops, and this simple step has not only increased crop yields, guaranteeing many families never-before-experienced food security, but it is also recharging the aquifer they live on, attracting wildlife, and offering a degree of livelihood and hope that they have never known. he also travels to a promising test farm in northern china, where a determined professor and a group of young chinese and international students are hoping to prove that traditional intensive farming methods will be able to feed the chinese nation, and rescue it from the total destruction of its soils and water table.
despair intermixed with hope. trouble balanced by effective action.
this hard balance, perhaps in a silly way, is reminiscent of my internal dialogue of late. i'm working less now, which leaves me a lot of free time to think. and i've been thinking a lot about the sorts of things i want to do in the future. this is a hard thing for me. for one, i'm not good at making these sorts of decisions: i'd much rather have them made for me in some way (but not dictatorially--that's guaranteed to make me want to do the exact opposite).
also, i'm overwhelmed by the options. i'm interested in doing so many things! they don't really seem to mesh very well: grad school, working on a farm, having an etsy website, working on my writing, traveling, serving in the peace corps, working in a coffee shop, going to culinary school, working for a nonprofit.... the list, it just goes on and on. i don't think i'm enough person (being that i am bound by time and only having one body and needing to do things like sleep) to do all of it, and yet i can't decide what to approach first.
this is the perennial issue with me: i'm paralyzed by the options. i don't know what to do first: i buy a book about block printing and the inks and even some items to print, but i haven't actually done it yet. i write in a dedicated way for a month, and then it drops off again, and i don't edit anything i work on. i spend a couple of weeks doing a really good job of meal planning and trying out new recipes, and then i fall off the wagon and rely on burritos and dinners out. i read a book that makes me really excited about studying community development or permaculture design or urban planning or what have you; a week later i'm burnt out by the idea, and want to be selfish and study poetry and crawl inside myself to hide from the world and write. there are a pile of seeds waiting to be planted at home, and i'm here at union block, writing rambling blog posts and staring off into space as the sun tries to dry out the mud outside. blurg.
so many things to do. and i know i really do have a lot of time (in the day, and in the years to come), but it doesn't feel that way. how can i balance doing things like craft projects and meal planning with a meaningful job or grad program? i know it isn't impossible but sometimes it feels that way. do you know what i mean?
luckily, i get to go home to a clean apartment (thanks to erik, whose cleaning rampages make up for my apathy in the face of a mess) and feel like i at least have space to start working on a project. last night i organized my seeds into what to plant now, later, and direct into the ground once it isn't so swampy. i have new herbs to put in pots and a lemon tree to pot up as well. i have a bottle of olive oil to use up. i'm thinking granola and banana bread. hopefully i can tackle that for now, and slowly i'll be able to figure out how to do everything i want to do without exploding my poor little overwhelmed brain. wish me luck.
b
one thing that definitely makes me feel hopeful lately:
ranunculus. especially that shade of pink that makes your eyes widen. so lovely.
this morning i read the bulk of the chapter on food, perfectly titled "how will we feed ourselves?" in it, hertsgaard writes unflinchingly about the failings of the modern agro-economic system: soil degradation, over-tapping of groundwater resources, pursuit of profit over quality, chemical overuse and run off, and continued food inequities and widespread malnutrition. he talks about how china's northern plains will run out of water by 2030, how the american midwest will be baked by scorching high temperatures three summers out of four, and how the global population, projected to hit 9 billion by 2050, will require that our food systems continue to increase yields despite rapidly escalating climate pressures. will industrial agriculture feed the world? no. but organic agriculture as it stands today probably won't either. there are good answers to this question, but they require more innovation, investment, and forward thinking that doesn't exist on a large scale right now.
and then he travels to the african sahel, and finds people there who are lifting themselves out of poverty and hunger by employing simultaneously novel and old agricultural techniques. their efforts include allowing native trees to grow interspersed with their crops, and this simple step has not only increased crop yields, guaranteeing many families never-before-experienced food security, but it is also recharging the aquifer they live on, attracting wildlife, and offering a degree of livelihood and hope that they have never known. he also travels to a promising test farm in northern china, where a determined professor and a group of young chinese and international students are hoping to prove that traditional intensive farming methods will be able to feed the chinese nation, and rescue it from the total destruction of its soils and water table.
despair intermixed with hope. trouble balanced by effective action.
this hard balance, perhaps in a silly way, is reminiscent of my internal dialogue of late. i'm working less now, which leaves me a lot of free time to think. and i've been thinking a lot about the sorts of things i want to do in the future. this is a hard thing for me. for one, i'm not good at making these sorts of decisions: i'd much rather have them made for me in some way (but not dictatorially--that's guaranteed to make me want to do the exact opposite).
also, i'm overwhelmed by the options. i'm interested in doing so many things! they don't really seem to mesh very well: grad school, working on a farm, having an etsy website, working on my writing, traveling, serving in the peace corps, working in a coffee shop, going to culinary school, working for a nonprofit.... the list, it just goes on and on. i don't think i'm enough person (being that i am bound by time and only having one body and needing to do things like sleep) to do all of it, and yet i can't decide what to approach first.
this is the perennial issue with me: i'm paralyzed by the options. i don't know what to do first: i buy a book about block printing and the inks and even some items to print, but i haven't actually done it yet. i write in a dedicated way for a month, and then it drops off again, and i don't edit anything i work on. i spend a couple of weeks doing a really good job of meal planning and trying out new recipes, and then i fall off the wagon and rely on burritos and dinners out. i read a book that makes me really excited about studying community development or permaculture design or urban planning or what have you; a week later i'm burnt out by the idea, and want to be selfish and study poetry and crawl inside myself to hide from the world and write. there are a pile of seeds waiting to be planted at home, and i'm here at union block, writing rambling blog posts and staring off into space as the sun tries to dry out the mud outside. blurg.
so many things to do. and i know i really do have a lot of time (in the day, and in the years to come), but it doesn't feel that way. how can i balance doing things like craft projects and meal planning with a meaningful job or grad program? i know it isn't impossible but sometimes it feels that way. do you know what i mean?
luckily, i get to go home to a clean apartment (thanks to erik, whose cleaning rampages make up for my apathy in the face of a mess) and feel like i at least have space to start working on a project. last night i organized my seeds into what to plant now, later, and direct into the ground once it isn't so swampy. i have new herbs to put in pots and a lemon tree to pot up as well. i have a bottle of olive oil to use up. i'm thinking granola and banana bread. hopefully i can tackle that for now, and slowly i'll be able to figure out how to do everything i want to do without exploding my poor little overwhelmed brain. wish me luck.
b
one thing that definitely makes me feel hopeful lately:
ranunculus. especially that shade of pink that makes your eyes widen. so lovely.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
hopelessly nostalgic
erik recently called me "hopelessly nostalgic"... and that's probably the best description anyone has ever given of me.
it's true: i love old things. pyrex mixing bowls, 1930s dresses, worn wooden spoons, handkerchiefs, manual typewriters, tattered polaroid shots, soft leather, woolen blankets, film cameras. i love writing letters by hand, cooking my own meals, gardening, canning, sewing (though i'm not great at finishing my projects), collecting old bits of random stuff that i find pretty.
currently i have a major crush on old cameras. here are two beauties that i'm aching to have in my hands:
this is a 100% manual, completely ancient soviet camera. it was designed to be cheap and durable. basically it is like a less-disposable disposable camera: you wind the film, focus the shot, click the shutter and wind it again. it doesn't do any of the work for you unlike modern cameras, which do everything except pick your nose. those cameras scare the heck out of my honestly... and i struggle to justify the expense, when i feel like it would take a lifetime for me to figure out how to really use the thing. you can do amazing things with them, yes. i just don't know if they're for me or not.
this sassy little lady is a 1970s polaroid one step land camera. look at that little rainbow down her front! they don't make them that cute these days. in fact, i find the new polaroid cameras pretty ugly, even though i think it's great that there is enough demand for them that they're back in production.
i've really been having fun taking pictures for my public art project, a million little pictures. i haven't used a disposable or film camera in ages, and there is something so satisfying and exciting about pushing the shutter and having no control over the image at all. it's out of my hands, and it captures a moment, even if it ends up being a crappy photo. the only thing better than that would be a real polaroid camera... click, whiz, shake, and your moment's right there! awesome.
so yes, i'm hopelessly nostalgic. i love the idea of having a little string hanging in my bedroom and clothes-pinning new polaroids to it. like a constantly remade collage of day to day pieces. i love that there will only ever be one of those pictures. i can't capture that precise image ever again. i can't print duplicate copies. if i give that picture away, i am giving the recipient a little piece of me and my experiences. hmmm.
one of these days i'm going to break down and ship one of these gems into my hands. then all i'll have to worry about it not going too crazy and spending all my money on film. in the meantime, i'll peruse the awesome polaroid movement website. it features polariods of all kinds from all over the world. happy looking!
b
it's true: i love old things. pyrex mixing bowls, 1930s dresses, worn wooden spoons, handkerchiefs, manual typewriters, tattered polaroid shots, soft leather, woolen blankets, film cameras. i love writing letters by hand, cooking my own meals, gardening, canning, sewing (though i'm not great at finishing my projects), collecting old bits of random stuff that i find pretty.
currently i have a major crush on old cameras. here are two beauties that i'm aching to have in my hands:
this is a 100% manual, completely ancient soviet camera. it was designed to be cheap and durable. basically it is like a less-disposable disposable camera: you wind the film, focus the shot, click the shutter and wind it again. it doesn't do any of the work for you unlike modern cameras, which do everything except pick your nose. those cameras scare the heck out of my honestly... and i struggle to justify the expense, when i feel like it would take a lifetime for me to figure out how to really use the thing. you can do amazing things with them, yes. i just don't know if they're for me or not.
this sassy little lady is a 1970s polaroid one step land camera. look at that little rainbow down her front! they don't make them that cute these days. in fact, i find the new polaroid cameras pretty ugly, even though i think it's great that there is enough demand for them that they're back in production.
i've really been having fun taking pictures for my public art project, a million little pictures. i haven't used a disposable or film camera in ages, and there is something so satisfying and exciting about pushing the shutter and having no control over the image at all. it's out of my hands, and it captures a moment, even if it ends up being a crappy photo. the only thing better than that would be a real polaroid camera... click, whiz, shake, and your moment's right there! awesome.
so yes, i'm hopelessly nostalgic. i love the idea of having a little string hanging in my bedroom and clothes-pinning new polaroids to it. like a constantly remade collage of day to day pieces. i love that there will only ever be one of those pictures. i can't capture that precise image ever again. i can't print duplicate copies. if i give that picture away, i am giving the recipient a little piece of me and my experiences. hmmm.
one of these days i'm going to break down and ship one of these gems into my hands. then all i'll have to worry about it not going too crazy and spending all my money on film. in the meantime, i'll peruse the awesome polaroid movement website. it features polariods of all kinds from all over the world. happy looking!
b
Monday, March 14, 2011
food for thought
a lot of reading these days. i guess less time spent working for other people opens up that possibility.
a lot of following of international news. it feels like i rarely turn off NPR. been following the news in libya for weeks now, and keeping my dear friend nadia in my thoughts. i recently learned that she will be coming home soon. i am happy to hear she will be out of danger as violence intensifies in the country once again. and then japan... so many lives lost and broken to pieces. so much uncertainty out of something that feels so certain--the ground beneath our feet. yet another reminder of how perilous our existence is these days.
i had started a new kick of nonfiction reading before these events started informing my days. now what i am learning from these books feels more necessary than ever. not just good things to know anymore; they are good reasons to act.
on my pile right now:
hot by mark hertsgaard
tons of up to date information on the impacts of global climate change, present and future. also a lot of reasons to still be hopeful, and a lot of reasons to act.
finding beauty in a broken world by terry tempest williams
okay, i read this a while ago, but it fits to perfectly with my current line of thought. a fabulously well written and unique book about finding hope among the ruins (be they human or environmental).
the impossible will take a little while by paul rogat loeb
the newest addition: a collection of essays, poems, stories, speeches, and letters by peace activists from all over the world. a meditation on why hope is so important and so powerful.
i think not working as much has me thinking a lot more about what i might want to do with myself. (something other than working part time in retail.) these books are giving me both ideas and encouragement.
and so i don't get to caught up in the difficulties of the world...
on beauty by zadie smith
because good novels always remind me what it means to be human.
what are you reading?
b
a lot of following of international news. it feels like i rarely turn off NPR. been following the news in libya for weeks now, and keeping my dear friend nadia in my thoughts. i recently learned that she will be coming home soon. i am happy to hear she will be out of danger as violence intensifies in the country once again. and then japan... so many lives lost and broken to pieces. so much uncertainty out of something that feels so certain--the ground beneath our feet. yet another reminder of how perilous our existence is these days.
i had started a new kick of nonfiction reading before these events started informing my days. now what i am learning from these books feels more necessary than ever. not just good things to know anymore; they are good reasons to act.
on my pile right now:
hot by mark hertsgaard
tons of up to date information on the impacts of global climate change, present and future. also a lot of reasons to still be hopeful, and a lot of reasons to act.
finding beauty in a broken world by terry tempest williams
okay, i read this a while ago, but it fits to perfectly with my current line of thought. a fabulously well written and unique book about finding hope among the ruins (be they human or environmental).
the impossible will take a little while by paul rogat loeb
the newest addition: a collection of essays, poems, stories, speeches, and letters by peace activists from all over the world. a meditation on why hope is so important and so powerful.
i think not working as much has me thinking a lot more about what i might want to do with myself. (something other than working part time in retail.) these books are giving me both ideas and encouragement.
and so i don't get to caught up in the difficulties of the world...
on beauty by zadie smith
because good novels always remind me what it means to be human.
what are you reading?
b
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
have i ever mentioned how much i love cookbooks?
yes, i am a dork. yes, i read cookbooks cover to cover. ...but seriously, what's not to like? you miss so much when you don't read your cookbook--flipping from recipe to recipe while using only the index means you miss all of the witty commentary and random historical insights that the author uses as glue between the recipe for things like gumbo and gazpacho. how else would you transition between those two recipes?
i will admit that i don't read all of my cookbooks. some (The New Best Recipe) have permanent page markers that flip me easily between oven fries, chicken stock, and chocolate cake with buttercream frosting. good old Joy of Cooking is most easily navigated by index, though i do take the time to read the introduction to the section i'm cooking from. did you know that Irma left us simple directions for everything from how to best poach an egg to how to select root vegetables? it's all hidden there in the print between recipes folks. its worth taking the time to read.
my new cookbook crushes mean that i'm splitting time between Amanda Hesser's doorstop-thickness Essential New York Times Cookbook and Melissa Clark's less imposing, but just as endearing In the Kitchen With a Good Appetite. these cookbooks literally make me drool. they have also been working together to get me out of some recent ruts, both in the kitchen, and in my life.
my kitchen rut has involved a lot of nachos (wince) and pasta. my life rut has involved a degenerating work situation and growing dissatisfaction with my little schedule. i am happy to report that both have received much-needed boosts in the past couple of weeks. recently i have been juggling jobs around to find a balance that makes me happier. i have also taken on a new project--revitalizing the Slow Food Yamhill County blog, and have been busily planning for our community garden row (mostly this involved drooling over seed catalogs and names like chioggia and rubine). i have also recently baked two cakes (buttermilk vanilla bean (find it here), and sour milk, of NYT origins), made cheese straws (oh my god), and after finishing this post, i will be heading back to the kitchen to explore olive oiled granola and spaetzle. things are looking up all the time! it feels good to be gaining momentum going into spring.
how about you?
b
i will admit that i don't read all of my cookbooks. some (The New Best Recipe) have permanent page markers that flip me easily between oven fries, chicken stock, and chocolate cake with buttercream frosting. good old Joy of Cooking is most easily navigated by index, though i do take the time to read the introduction to the section i'm cooking from. did you know that Irma left us simple directions for everything from how to best poach an egg to how to select root vegetables? it's all hidden there in the print between recipes folks. its worth taking the time to read.
my new cookbook crushes mean that i'm splitting time between Amanda Hesser's doorstop-thickness Essential New York Times Cookbook and Melissa Clark's less imposing, but just as endearing In the Kitchen With a Good Appetite. these cookbooks literally make me drool. they have also been working together to get me out of some recent ruts, both in the kitchen, and in my life.
my kitchen rut has involved a lot of nachos (wince) and pasta. my life rut has involved a degenerating work situation and growing dissatisfaction with my little schedule. i am happy to report that both have received much-needed boosts in the past couple of weeks. recently i have been juggling jobs around to find a balance that makes me happier. i have also taken on a new project--revitalizing the Slow Food Yamhill County blog, and have been busily planning for our community garden row (mostly this involved drooling over seed catalogs and names like chioggia and rubine). i have also recently baked two cakes (buttermilk vanilla bean (find it here), and sour milk, of NYT origins), made cheese straws (oh my god), and after finishing this post, i will be heading back to the kitchen to explore olive oiled granola and spaetzle. things are looking up all the time! it feels good to be gaining momentum going into spring.
how about you?
b
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
february sun
so it's groundhog day. the little fella is surely seeing his shadow here in oregon, so i guess that means six more weeks of winter. i'm good with that.
january was a blur. it involved some pretty big bumps, some great new developments (limbo is over!), and a lot of "huh? where'd the time go?" i've said before and will say again that missing time that way makes me sad. i will also say again that i am hoping to pay better attention.
february is a little month. i have a new, looser work schedule and long, long lists of things to do. some of those include: purge the apartment. plan for our garden row. order seeds. edit recent poem attempts. bake a cake! (i'm failing miserably on that resolution). happy hours. move more. i'm excited to start over again (already!).
signed up for a million little pictures today! lights and beams is my theme (thanks for your feedback, friends!), and i'm hoping that my camera will arrive in time for me to capture a bit of this wonderful sunshine.
a little idea bouncing around my head right now: take my 27 pictures and write poems about each? sounds ambitious. sounds like great practice.
reading william stafford right now. writing the australian crawl is a title that i hadn't heard of until the stafford reading at linfield last month--someone read an excerpt, and i knew that it would be a book that i would turn to for inspiration and comfort again and again.
this morning i read, "Poems don't just happen. They are luckily or stealthily related to a readiness within ourselves."
today, i feel ready.
b
january was a blur. it involved some pretty big bumps, some great new developments (limbo is over!), and a lot of "huh? where'd the time go?" i've said before and will say again that missing time that way makes me sad. i will also say again that i am hoping to pay better attention.
february is a little month. i have a new, looser work schedule and long, long lists of things to do. some of those include: purge the apartment. plan for our garden row. order seeds. edit recent poem attempts. bake a cake! (i'm failing miserably on that resolution). happy hours. move more. i'm excited to start over again (already!).
signed up for a million little pictures today! lights and beams is my theme (thanks for your feedback, friends!), and i'm hoping that my camera will arrive in time for me to capture a bit of this wonderful sunshine.
a little idea bouncing around my head right now: take my 27 pictures and write poems about each? sounds ambitious. sounds like great practice.
reading william stafford right now. writing the australian crawl is a title that i hadn't heard of until the stafford reading at linfield last month--someone read an excerpt, and i knew that it would be a book that i would turn to for inspiration and comfort again and again.
this morning i read, "Poems don't just happen. They are luckily or stealthily related to a readiness within ourselves."
today, i feel ready.
b
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
something new
for a while now i've been searching out little ways to get myself inspired and to impose deadlines on my projects--something that's really hard when there isn't someone else out there telling you to get your stuff done. a coworker told me about something called the sketchbook project, and in researching it i found this.
i like this project for a few reasons:
1. i've always loved taking pictures, and this is a great way to get back into that.
2. public art project!!
3. small committment: $20 and 23 photos (or something like that)
4. being part of something bigger than my little projects
what do you all think? i need to choose a theme soon, so that i can have a little time to find the best images. i was thinking about "watch" or "lights and beams."
b
i like this project for a few reasons:
1. i've always loved taking pictures, and this is a great way to get back into that.
2. public art project!!
3. small committment: $20 and 23 photos (or something like that)
4. being part of something bigger than my little projects
what do you all think? i need to choose a theme soon, so that i can have a little time to find the best images. i was thinking about "watch" or "lights and beams."
b
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