Weekending

 
Building.




Decorating.
 

Feasting. (This recipe, except really, you only need a couple tablespoons of olive oil. Perfect way to turn those half-ripe end-of-season tomatoes into something delicious.)
 

Failing. (Thought I would use up some of my leftover food coloring to try to make corn muffins that look like candy corn. Alas, this was as close as I got--natural yellow food coloring is not at all impressive. Will have to try again next year.)




Carving.



Costuming.

Weekending

School carnival:

 (Harmonograph drawing: 2 tickets)

Sick:


(I think I have an ear infection. It is not pleasant. Cranky toddlers of the world, I greet you with newfound understanding.)

Pumpkin patch:



(We do this every year, and every year I think: oh man, this is totally why people have kids.)

While I was away

My girl made a "quilt" out of perler beads. I'm told it was totally her idea and execution, and I think it is awfully clever. Anyway, I was more than 2,500 miles away, I couldn't have put her up to it.

Weekending

I'm working on a post about pie (and cake). It's kind of a monster...a delicious monster. In the meantime:

Productive afternoon. SMQG FTW! (And Jenny, they don't bite! :-) You're coming with me next time for sure.)



So. many. tomatoes.



African-American Quilts from the Collection of Corinne Riley. Normally we think of quilts as getting their visual impact from repetition, and yet what makes quilts like this one so stunning to me is the deviations from repetition: those variations in the color of the blue fabric around the stars, the various shades of orange and red in the stars (with their seemingly random and yet somehow perfect placement), those two orange diamonds in one of the pink stars. These quilts were also made in a way that is very different from how a lot of the people around me who are into patchwork (including myself, really) work: pieced from materials on hand, leftovers, worn-out clothing and bedsheets. And yet somehow the visual impact is even greater to me than a lot of quilts made from fabric specifically bought for quilting. I'm not sure how to explain this without making it sound like I'm romanticizing poverty. But I look at this quilt and I think: I wish I could make something that looked like that someday.



Post-art refueling.



Harvest feast. Lasagna with mushrooms, summer squash*, and tomato* sauce; basil* pesto flatbread; salad of lettuce*, carrot, and cherry tomato* with walnut-balsamic dressing.

* = all grown by us!

Weekending

Oh yeah, the s#%t is going down. My man got up Saturday morning to find the tupperware cupboard reorganized--you know, after months of us talking about how it needed doing--and he said, "I love you." So now we know, the way to a man's heart is through a tidy tupperware cupboard. Momentum from this project resulted in clearing out another kitchen cabinet, and while doing this together was useful--it's hard to declutter alone if it's not solely your stuff--it also made me anxious. It's a bit uncomfortable facing your failed good intentions in front of the person you most want to be good for.

Anyway.



Handful.



Volunteer.
 

Summer is over, tomato season has arrived. Seattle is weird.
 


Orchard. (Here.)
 


Laden.
 

Luscious.

Making the best of a cheesy rock wall

Our house is at the bottom of a slope, and we have a rock wall all along one side of our property.

I hate it.

I think it's ugly and cheesy and 1970s-looking, in a bad way. It's like the split-level house of landscaping.

Sorry if you live in a split-level house. Some of my best friends live in split-level houses and all that. Actually, I'm pretty sure my best friend does live in a split-level house. But... they're not my bag. And probably for most of us, there's some aspect of our house or yard  that we don't dig so much. The question is how to work around it, how to make the best of it.

So one day I saw this image:

Source: saidosdaconcha.blogspot.com via Sarah on Pinterest

And I thought, hmm...could I?

So I gathered some supplies.



And I gave it a try.




The bulbs are under the areas with darker soil, a compost-topsoil blend that I put on top of what was already there. I'm not confident that I really buried the bulbs as deep as the package instructions said, but...if daffodils can grow in the amount of dirt on top of a Cornish rock wall, maybe it will work out.

I'll keep you posted. But I feel better already.

Weekending

Celebrating. (Art here.)

Change of season.



Slightly-too-big pajamas...they slay me.

Last chance.

Killing our lawn.

First semi-blustery day* --> dark & stormy.
(*Full disclosure: it was only even semi-blustery in the morning. But still.)

Birthday boy's request.

I feel like I am a real mom now.