The Boy started first grade on Monday and it’s been a big adjustment for him, as well as for our family.  We are still struggling to find our rhythm, but I am certain it will come.  He did great at drop-off the first day.  I didn’t know what to expect, and there’s been some grumbling, but after a hard first day, he’s taking it better than I expected.

The Girl and I are enjoying time alone, and I am enjoying getting my house really clean for the first time in three months.

It’s been raining practically non-stop for the the last three days, which is pretty unusual, but it’s been nice hunkering down at home, pretending it’s Fall.  Which is still at least five weeks away.  Sigh.

What better way to pretend it’s Fall than to make soup? Nevermind the fact that it’s 77 degrees outside (which is actually pretty low).  So crustless quiche and tomato alphabet soup it was.  The Farm is finally open again, which means glorious, bright-orange-yoked eggs, which don’t even compare to the organic supermarket ones.

In an effort to eat less meat, more locally, and to save money on the ever-growing food budget, I’ve been trying to cook at least one or two vegetarian meals a week.  I’ve also been trying to buy what looks good, what’s affordable, and what’s local, rather than going to the store with a dead-set menu plan.  I went shopping today, but I didn’t know what I was going to make for dinner tonight.

The gray and drizzly day made me want soup.   Bear in mind these are more formula than recipe, but for those of you who need it:

ROSE’S CRUSTLESS QUICHE FOR TWO (WITH LEFTOVERS)

1 small head broccoli

1/2 small onion, chopped

olive oil

1/4 cup grated cheddar cheese

1 1/2 teaspoons all purpose flour

2 eggs

3/4 cups half and half (or light cream)

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

pinch nutmeg

pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 400. Butter an eight-inch skillet or pan. Cut broccoli into florets and blanch.  Drain and chop.  Saute onion in olive oil until soft. Toss the cheese with the flour and set aside.  Meanwhile, whisk eggs with half and half, salt, nutmeg and pepper, until well mixed. Add broccoli, onion, and cheese to the egg mixture. Pour into pan and bake 25 to 30 minutes, until slightly browned, and a knife inserted in the center comes out clean.  Cool 15 minutes in the pan, cut into wedges, and serve.  Also good as leftovers, hot, cold, or room temp.

ROSE’S TOMATO (ALPHABET) SOUP

1 small onion, chopped

olive oil

1 large carrot, peeled and grated

1 small zucchini, scrubbed and grated

1 clove garlic, put through a garlic press

1  26 ounce box Pomi strained tomatoes

1 bay leaf

1 teaspoon sugar (or agave)

salt and pepper to taste

handful of alphabet pasta

Heat a large pot over medium heat.  Saute onion in olive oil.  Add carrot when onion is soft.  Add zucchini when carrot softens.  Add garlic when all is soft and beginning to brown.  Add tomatoes, and fill the empty tomato box with water. Add water to soup with bay leaf, salt, pepper, and sugar.  Bring to a boil, then simmer, covered, for approximately 40 minutes. Fish out bay leaf and discard.  Using an immersion blender, puree the soup right in the pot.  Meanwhile, bring a smallish pot of water to a boil, then cook pasta and drain.  I like the add the pasta as I serve it because it tends to get mushy as leftovers.  I prefer the soup without pasta, but The Boy loves it.

Last week I had the great pleasure of visiting a collection of quilts from The Gee’s Bend Collective, right in my very own town!  The Snail clued me in, and we decided to meet there (without kids!) for some mutual inspiration and adult company.  What a joy it was.

The show was small, only ten quilts total, but what it lacked in quantity, it far surpassed in quality.

The quits are the work of a multi-generational group of women who are the descendants of slaves in the area of Selma, Alabama.  These women, out of the sheer necessity to keep family and loved ones warm, made beauty from discarded fabric. Tiny fabric scraps, discarded bedsheets, old blue jeans, parts of old sweaters, and even dirty rags found on the side of the road were worked into their beautiful quilts.  Making due however they could, these women took refuse and turned it into art.

Working without patterns or (at times) sewing machines, these women left behind traditional quilt patterns and chose to work in an improvisational way.  It is amazing what can be done with the humble needle and thread.  Nothing like this had been done before, and their work has inspired an entire new wave of improvisational quilt making.

What these women contributed to the field of modern art in this country cannot be understated.  According to this exhibit, their work is viewed as important to modern art as that of Henri Matisse or Paul Klee.  A retrospective of their work exhibited in museums of twelve American cities including The Whitney Museum of American Art in New York City.

I found myself choking back tears as I read the words in the exhibit, as soulful African-American spirituals played softly in the background.

I walked away from the exhibit feeling humbled, inspired, and grateful for the abundance that I receive every day.

It just amazes me when a day starts out so ordinary and ends so profoundly.

Which is why I’m so glad The Snail called me this morning and invited us to a quick impromptu beach visit in honor of the First Day of Summer.  We threw on our suits, grabbed our always packed beach bag, and ran out the door.

And I’m so glad we did.  It was a beautiful sunny day and the water was glorious–the perfect way to celebrate the First Day of Summer.  As it does with everyone living on the Gulf of Mexico right now, conversation turned to The Spill.  I’ve mentioned in this space before, all of the joy and good times we’ve had on our little beach.  But I have to say that we’re more than a little scared to lose it.  The Daddy Monkey is cautious of us even swimming at this point.  Even though oil hasn’t washed up on our shore, the toxins are in the water along with the chemical “dispersant” being dumped into The Gulf to “help” clean up.

I’m so deeply heartsick that my children could grow up in a time where the beach is considered a toxic place.

Thinking of all of the life that is affected by this.  Human and otherwise.

We continue to go for now.

Enjoying every beautiful moment, not knowing how long it will last.  Hoping beyond all hope that this mess is cleaned up soon, and this whole business will be over for good someday.

This was my toy box when I was a little girl.  My mother made it in a woodworking class when we lived in Kansas.  I was not known as a neat child by any means, and I found the toy box to be a great place to hide, rather than a great place to put toys.  Inevitably what I wanted was always at the bottom, which meant that everything was always on the floor, rather than in the toy box.

I held on to this toy box for probably about 30 years.  My mom always said it could be my hope chest someday.  Does anyone do that anymore?  I didn’t.  But I lugged it from place to place, always finding it handy for stashing something away.  It got painted a couple of times.  Once it was black.  (I know, what was I thinking?) But I stripped it down a few years back, and it sat, 95% done, for years.

I was on one of my get-rid-of-stuff kicks when I decided that this sad thing just had to go.  The front panel was loose, The Boy had scribbled on it with crayon, and it was dirty and dingy from not having any varnish or paint.  I sheepishly asked my mom if she wanted it before I sent it away.  She declined, not having anywhere to put it.

But I still couldn’t get rid of it.  It sat for another year.

I’m on a major fall-cleaning kick around here: cleaning up, clearing out, and organizing.  I decided to fix up this sad old thing and give it to my own children.  I scrubbed and sanded it, and removed the last of the black paint.  I made a homemade non-toxic furniture polish out of mineral oil and beeswax, and polished it up.  I repaired the loose front.  Then, to make it a comfy place to sit and curl up with a book, I made two cushions for the seat.  I can proudly say that the cushions didn’t cost me a cent.  It was all materials from my stash.  The foam, the batting, the fabric and thread were all from previous projects.

So now it sits in my own childrens’ room, holding all their dress-up gear.  There is alot of it.  And now my own boy likes to climb inside to hide.

The soil needs to lie fallow for a while to let the sun and earth work their magic of nitrogen and microorganisms.  In the same way that land lies in frozen rest during the winter months up north, we here in the south face our restful season during the summer when it’s too hot to even think about going outside.

Of all the places I go every week, The Farm has to be one of my favorites.  The food is beautiful, the people are interesting, and the field makes me happy every time I see it.

I’m reading Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma right now, and last night I read these words: “…a successful local food economy implies not only a new kind of food producer, but a new kind of eater as well, one who regards finding, preparing, and preserving food as one of the pleasures of life rather than a chore.”

I believe that so strongly, and I would add that sharing food is a part of that formula, too.

I don’t know what I’m going to do without the glorious vegetables and fruit I get at The Farm.  I think I may visit our Downtown Farmer’s Market again.  It’s been years since I’ve been there.

I’ve been weeding beds and raking (who says gardening isn’t good exercise?) a lot lately.  The yard really suffered a lot of neglect since it’s been nearly two years since I’ve done any real yard work.  It’s great because the kids and I head outside and play, and I do a little work here and there.   So far this spring I’ve planted the following: petunias, vincas, white butterfly nepthytis, periwinkes, aztec grass, button fern, rabbit’s foot fern, and tricolor ginger.

From seed we have: moonflower, rock soapwort, nasturtium, basil, morning glory, and a wildflower shade mix.

I spruced up the hanging baskets.  I got the idea to line the baskets with leaves from an old Martha Stewart Living article.  I’m curious to see how they hold up.  I think this is good for plants that like to keep their feet wet because the soil does not seems to drain as well as it does with the coconut liner.

The herb garden: thyme, mint, rosemary, and basil.  I’m still waiting for the tomatillo and sage seeds to sprout.  I would love more than anything to grow vegetables.  I’ve tried, but I just don’t get enough sun.

That spiky looking thing is a pineapple we planted from the discarded top of a pineapple we ate last year.  I thought for sure it was a goner from neglect, but when I weeded the bed a few weeks ago, I found it alive and kicking!

Ginger flowers.  This I did not plant, I was lucky that it crept under the fence from my neighbor’s yard!

Ferns and lots of them.  These also crept under the fence.  Since we have mostly shade in our backyard, we grow lots of ferns.

Lots of shade means that grass refuses to grow on half the yard.  We finally gave up and put down hay.  The kids love it.

Morning glory flower.  This is from those seeds we planted a while back.

My garden friend.

I’ve been thinking so much about gardening and reading so many books and magazines on the subject that I actually had a dream the other night that a plant was growing out of my armpit.  Not in my armpit, but out of it, as if my armpit were its soil.  Either I’m thinking too much about plants, or my subconscious is trying to tell me something about my personal hygeine.

I made The Girl’s Easter dress from some of my leftover thrifted vintage sheet fabric.  This was the second time I used McCall’s pattern 5083 and I’m not so sure I’ll be using it again.  I really like the simple shape of the dress, but the bindings on the neckband and arm holes are impossibly small and never come out right.  Perhaps if I just made the whole thing lined and nixed the binding it would work.

The dress came out cute regardless, and went together very quickly, which is good since I didn’t start it until Wednesday.  Yikes.  I also made the diaper wrap out of a thrifted wool sweater that I bought specifically for crafting.  It was way too small to fit me, so I stashed it away.  Made of 80% wool and 20% angora, it was incredibly soft.   The color matched the fabric perfectly and making the wrap saved me from having to make those little matching panties that cover the diaper.  Unfortunately the wrap was a little too short on the top, but it served its purpose and you can’t really see it under the dress anyway.

This is the sort of find I dream about.  These four napkins are brand new, still crisp and unstained.  I think I will make something out of them because I love the fabric too much to wipe my messy mouth on it.

The same day, I found this tablecloth.  Look at that funky pattern!  This fits perfectly on my table.  I may use it as is or cut it up.  I haven’t decided yet.

Here are some vintage sheets and pillowcases.  I plan to buy more and make a quilt out of them some day.  I really love the patterns and colors.

This crocheted throw is made of wool and looked like it had been given a hot machine washing because it was already felted when I bought it.  I love the dimensionality of the center flowers, they are very thick and raised.  I very much want to learn to crochet now so I can make something like this. This may go in The Girl’s room as a rug, if she ever gets a room of her own.

Looking at all these together like this makes me realize that I apparently have a thing for textiles.  Lately I go to the thrift shops with the intention of finding fabulous fabric that I can make something out of.  Not only is it cheaper than a trip to the fabric store, but I think it’s wonderful to give new life to something old.

I am so in love with my local organic farm.  Their market is open on Fridays and Saturdays, and I make it out there once a week to get our family’s vegetables and fruit.  They grow what they can there, and the rest is brought in from elsewhere.  I prefer to buy local, and try to organize my meals around what it grown there.

I used to really fight going out there.  I would think, “oh, it’s so far to drive.” But then I realized that it’s better for me to drive my little car out there once a week than to have all of my produce shipped to my supermarket from all over the planet.  I love supporting my community and knowing that my dollars are going in my farmer’s pockets, rather than to some megastore conglomerate.  I’m inspired to find more local food, and you can too, at localharvest.org.

Since I live in the south, I can get beautiful produce all winter long.  Sadly, they close in the summer because it’s too hot to farm in over-90 degree temperatures.  I actually overheard them say one day that the spinach was “melted.”  And it was all wilted right there in the ground.  So rather than the winter being their off season, it’s the summer.  And let me say that I miss them so much in those few months.  Buying smashed up, half wilted produce at my local supermarket is so depressing after being spoiled by gorgeous local food.

It’s so beautiful driving up and seeing all of my food growing right there in the dirt.  I know that a lot of what I buy was in the ground that very morning.  How beautiful is that?  At The Farm, I can touch all of the produce.  It’s not all sealed up in plastic and styrofoam.  I can buy in any quantity I want.  If I want one carrot, I will buy one carrot; I am not forced to buy a pound of something if I don’t want it.  And that means a lot less waste for me.  Since I started visiting The Farm, I throw away a lot less food.  I mean a lot.  Because I can buy what I need, and because it’s so fresh, it all gets used before it goes bad.  And the quality makes me swoon.  Heads of green leaf lettuce so huge they won’t fit in a bag, or celery with all the tops still on.  Basil so fragrant that you can smell it from feet away.  It’s making me fall in love with cooking all over again.

I have to say that since I have started going out there, it has really changed the way I cook.  I feel more in tuned with the seasons now that I don’t buy crummy produce flown in from around the world.  They don’t always have exactly what I want at The Farm, but they always have something beautiful.

I’ve also tried lots of new things that I’ve never had before.  Have you ever tasted sorrell?  I have to admit I didn’t even know what it was when I saw it there.  I bought some and brought it home, curious as to what to do with it.  I ended up putting it in salads, but I think you can basically treat it the same way as spinach.  It tastes somewhat spinach-y, but with a citrus hint.  It is so beautiful with its green and red leaves.  And The Farm sells it with the roots still attached!  It is so lovely.  I have been known to pull it out of the fridge and show it off to people.  Am I daft?  Perhaps I am just in love with food and wonder why I never had sorrell before.  And why don’t I have a photo of it?  I mean, you can’t just blab on about sorrel and not have a photo of it.

Sorrell photo coming soon.