::the summer of::

wasn't on purpose, 

just ended up with a loadful of Common Ground Fair Volunteer tee shirts

(because the cool kids volunteer)

Green smoothies, are my new favorite summer breakfast. And let me say that my idea of a green smoothie is maybe different than other ones, my concept is that it can't be OVERLY green-tasting! Or else: blech, I won't drink it. Which gives me zero health benefits. I use my Cuisenart because I do not have a Vitamix. Here is the rough guide for a recipe:

Pineapple-Kale-Chia-Mint Smoothie

2 T. chia seeds, presoaked for 5 minutes or however long it takes you to do the rest of the ingredients-gathering

2 cups fresh, RIPE pineapple, in chunks

Some (1-2 handfuls) baby kale leaves (chard is good too), de-stemmed and torn

Fresh mint leaves (I like it minty, so I am generous here)

1 cup or so fresh coconut water that you made yourself (below)

Maybe a splash of almond milk

Ice if you can stand the clunking noise your Cuisenart makes when it chops it

Put it all in the Cuisenart, including the soaked chia, then give it a few good pulses. Delish!

Coconut Water

1 cup unsweetened, shredded coconut

4 cups warm water

Mix together in a bowl and let sit for 15-20 minutes. Then strain the coconut meat out. Voila, your own coconut water, a raw food! Store it in a jar in your fridge and use for smoothies when you like.

This was a strange adventure in culinary practice that we were inspired to try by a friend who has a yummy vegan food blog: GRILLED WATERMELON. Well, it was too weird not to try it! And I liked it, especially the yummy limey-spicy dressing. The leftover dressing could have made an awesome addition to my bubbly water, but someone had dumped it before I could get my hands on it!!! It was a fun addition to our non-vegan burgers on the grill and I would like to try it with a minty-limey-spicy dressing next time. (OK, I'm crazy about mint!) Read WhollyEats' blog entry here.

It's the summer of learning to roller skate. I am learning to be a roller derby referee for our local team, the Rock Coast Rollers! Learning to skate is a big one for me about conquering fears: of things that are new and things that are physical. There are lots of rules, people, and reading them is one thing, and then learning to SEE them in real-time is another thing. I am learning a new, visual, very physical language.

It is not. like. the. roller. derby. you. saw. on. TV. The analogy is televised dramatized fake wrestling is to actual skilled athletic wrestling. Same thing for derby. These athletes are all ages and shapes and it's an actual sport, with strategy (and lots of rules); it's not about beating people up on roller skates. Practices are all about drills, skills, and sweaty bodies, like any other sport. Have you let go of your previous associations yet?

One night a week, Sylvan is allowed to come to practice with me. He is, of course, brilliant. Which makes me proud and sometimes a little bit jealous, because it is just so effortless for him, so graceful, intuitive, and fearless (without being reckless). 

Here are his new 10th birthday wheels! Brand new Atom TrakAtak wheels for a boy who likes speed. The amazing owner of Turn Two Skate Shop in Portland researched wheels that would be right for his smaller sized skates and the wheels arrived in record time. We stuffed ourselves with birthday dinner and cake and ice cream, but then we just had to go to practice last night to try those puppies out. He's getting the feel for them, and the feel is very different from his old ones, so he took a couple of exploratory spills.

Just look at him, running on his toe stops like a pro.

There's that handsome boy, whose roller derby name is SylvInsanity, on his birthday:

Leaping through the air and life, as always...

The bluebirds are back! They were here ten years ago when we first moved here, tapping on the windows on the morning of Sylvan's birth.

Now they are nesting in the box on the end of my clothesline, overlooking our garden. The papa bird is not thrilled when I hang out the laundry, so he swoops around, and I just keep assuring him that we are so happy his family is here but also that hanging the laundry and weeding the garden are part of the rental agreement.

If you live in Maine...

You probably didn't move here for Hot and Humid reasons. I, for one, did not. You are already familiar with the fact that Hot and Humid are not my friends. So when it's like this, I can tell because I am wilted and grumpy, and I end up washing a lot of towels (single use only or they smell funky because---surprise---they don't dry) and a lot of linen clothes.

The dress that you can see, above, is pretty much a glorified nightgown that happens to be appropriate to wear to work. When I put it on I always think: "Hmm, am I really just wearing a brown shapeless sack?" Not that I care, on a day when I am preparing to stand in the heat at work and attempt friendliness and patience all day. I'll take anything that helps (mint water is a good plan also). But surprisingly I get a lot of compliments; the buttons down the back elevate it from brown-sackdom.

Today: utter bliss. Waking up, instead of icky damp hotness, to clear, blue skies, and clean-feeling air. Laundry day. I feel like the universe is sending me a Valentine on days like this ("really? you love me this much?").

This is My Weather!

And may I introduce you to my hand-me-down pink, cheetah print, synthetic summer skirt? Pretty much the opposite of the linen dress and not something I'd opt for in H & H weather or for work. But she rocks it in a whole different way. She's sort of a home skirt, an over-the-bathingsuit skirt, a garden skirt.

Note to self from the boys: "these are the only good sparklers to buy, so don't be cheap and buy the lame ones ever again."

Summer. Sigh. Now I need to go out and hang another load on the line!

(Thanks for the nudge, Hilary S. xo)

March, I hate you

airing out the quilt after a month of sickness:

the first clothesline photo of the season!

March in Maine is not my favorite. In fact, I consider it the armpit of the year, with very little to recommend it. It can be cruel and demoralizing to live in Maine in March: the warmth and light return, and just when you begin to let yourself hope for spring, you are soundly walloped by a snap of cold or sleety rain. There's a sense of looking over my shoulder nervously, waiting for the smack.

"But what about November?" you ask. Well. November is elegant in its bleakness. The study in grays and blacks and browns feels like a painting. The clouds and sunsets are complex purpley gray worlds. There is the anticipation of snow. November is a class act.

What we have now, March, is pretty ugly. The snow has mostly melted, but there are a few patches left: dirty and mangy and ill-tempered like a dog you'd secretly like to kick, if you weren't an animal-lover. We have mud. Sometimes icy mud. Sticks and rocks all over the lawn. Thawing chicken poop in the yard. We have sodden snowpants and mittens heavy with their wetness and about ten pounds of dirt. Wet, odoriferous boots.

organic oranges. eating sunshine.

We also have illness. Illness which has morphed from and into new and amazing types of germs in our family. No one has vomited, but I think we have run the gamut of most other symptoms from mild to high fevers to pack-a-day coughing fits to strep throat. And lots of other things in between.

Do you have the picture yet?

Here is the one thing March has going for it: maple syrup making time. (Grudgingly offered.)

Thankfully, I do have friends.

The best kind of friends, who see a pair of bright red rubber gloves with little chicken embellishments and think of me. Let me tell you, the package doesn't lie: "Caution: Use of this product has been known to cause laughter. Guaranteed to class up your day." Wearing these gloves could also inspire an outfit-change. Heels might have to be dug out of the far reaches of my closet. And apron will most definitely be worn, and in fact, perhaps I need an apron designed specially to coordinate with these gloves.

And a friend who can't make just one pie. Or leave it undecorated. Beautiful apple pie with whole wheat pastry crust delivered to my door one morning. Really, the best.

We are also blessed by live music in the house. Even when it sometimes feels like just another chore to practice.

Hanging the Laundry

Today is a perfect laundry day: sunny, dry, windy. I think you already know about my love of clotheslines and hanging my family's clothes outside. I like the whole process, from the pins to the colors to the way everything smells when I take it in at the end of the day. I especially love it when I round the corner on the road and see the clothes on my line flapping there, colorful and cheery. Here's a painting that I love by the artist Edith Vonnegut (yes, daughter of Kurt) called Hanging the Laundry. My mom owns it so I get to admire it when I visit her!

What I really hate is folding a big pile of clothes from the dryer, like this mountain of clothes.

This is unless I have an audio book to listen to on the iPod, which I don't at the moment. Right now I have been listening to this wonderful foodie podcast by Molly Wizenberg, the author of a Homemade Life. It's called Spilled Milk and you can subscribe to it for free! (I am partial to the episode they did on Junk Food. Which is OK, since I am not eating it, just enjoying it vicariously.) The two hosts, Molly and Matthew, are funny, quirky and I feel like I am hanging out with friends in the kitchen, cooking.

Here's another thing I love: Making my own laundry detergent. Sure, as a cost-saving measure, but also to know exactly what goes into cleaning my clothes. I got the recipe from the magazine Mary Jane's Farm, and it is made from a 76 oz. box of Borax, a 55 oz. box of washing soda, 2 lb. box of baking soda, and a 12 oz. bar of soap (grated, I used Tom's of Maine lavender). It makes about 1/3 of a 5-gallon bucket (total cost about $10), which is what I mixed mine in, and get this: you use 2 TABLESPOONS per regular load. Seriously. And when I put it to the test (sweaty work-out clothes, grass stains) the results were fab: clean clothes, no weird chemicals or additives. ***The one thing to note is that this is for cold water washing only, as there is some sort of potential for Borax being partially converted to hydrogen peroxide at warm/hot temps.***

Do you have a clothesline? Do you have a method to your clothes-hanging madness? (Organized by type of clothing, the person who wears it, whatever the heck your hand touches next in the basket, etc.) Do you fold your clothes outside or bring them in to fold? Readers in foreign lands, do please tell us about your clothesline experiences! I would love to know.

Buttercups are popping up

I'm sorry to tell you,
but I love taking photos of my clothesline,
so you may just be seeing more of these in the months to come.

Well, OK, not literally outside in the grass (which, please note, is green now!). But I had to make another trip to Alewives for MORE fat quarters and magnetic clasps to make MORE Buttercup bags. This is how deep my desire to get there was: I took the boys along with me. Which turned out to be great because Jonas (with his keen eye for color and 10 year-old fearlessness) helped me to pick out a lining fabric that was *just* a tiny bit out of my comfort zone. And Sylvan found buttons to match, amazingly.

I have a lot of spring/summer birthday girls in my life...so I am only able to show you a limited selection of combinations that will go to non-Blog readers.

It's going to be hard to let this combo go.
The red is the outer fabric.
I'm sort of in love with it.

Um, the flipping owls?!
And the buttons, in real life, are an amazing match,
which I am sorry my photo does not reflect.

The person for whom this montage is destined
actually DOES read this blog.
So she'll just have to wonder.

To reward these good boys for their patience, I let them both pick out a fat quarter of their own. Sylvan fell in love with this fabric which he proclaimed perfect for Miss E. He drew me a picture of how he wanted it to look, fingerknit the little button loop, and helped me guide the fabric through the machine. How wonderfully selfless of him! I am secretly so glad he didn't go with his first choice which were color-rich, intense fruits and vegetables. It's good to remember that frequently, an adult aesthetic is totally different from a child's (except in the case of my father-in-law who, left to his own devices, might paint his house outlandish colors).

I am just weeks away from the end of my first semester in grad school and already making my summer reading list...and sewing project list.