growing curious

winter weed salad

I love going out into the garden in winter to search for little bits of deliciousness.  Here is what will be in our salad tonight:

At 12:00 and 1:00 -- a stalk of overwintered celery.

At 2 and 3 -- bittercress/popweed, pleasing texture and tastes like a sweet arugula.

At 4 and 5 -- wild mustards, arugula, radish leaves.

At 6 --  overwintered frizee and sweet, cucumbery chickweed.

At 7 -- two slender leek scapes.

At 9 and 10 -- curly lettuce.

At 11 -- lemony sorrel.

In the center:  red chicory.

I'm going to leave some of these whole, and I will chop the stronger-flavored things into fine ribbons.  I'll dress them with lemon, olive oil, garlic, pepper, and salt (from most to least).  We'll have it with a garbanzo bean stew and some whole wheat pita bread.

Really, I can't get over how much food there is out in the garden right now.  I harvested celery I need for the stew and 4 pounds of broccoli raab.  I notice the motherwort and borage coming back again, and the garlic is coming up nicely.   I am so grateful.

 

 

pantry challenge begins

This morning I woke up just dreading the thought of coming up with something for dinner.  "We just have little bits of this and that right now...  How am I going to put them together?" 

(Seriously...  if I'm stressed out about dinner in the morning, it's an ominous sign for the day.  Usually it means that I'm feeling like an ignored household appliance instead of a person with feelings and dreams of my own.)

And then I remembered about the Pantry Challenge and my mission to use up the bits of this and that. 

So, with renewed purpose, I looked in the freezer and found two containers of vegetable soup, and then I found a small bit of egg noodles in the pantry.  Good...  sort of like escarole soup...  but wait...  we have some escarole and radicchio out in the garden...  could add that, too!  Those greens turn sweet in soup, but they're hard for me to use in other ways because D and E balk at their bittersweet flavors.

Today might not be so bad afterall.

 

the pantry challenge 2012

Hello, my name is Cathy, and my pantry is out of control.  Here is how it looks today:

I'm looking forward to January, February and March when I challenge myself to shop for groceries as infrequently possible and to be creative in using up the supplies in my pantry and freezer.  I won't buy rice, for instance.  When I run out of rice, I'll use the rye berries instead.  I won't buy oat flakes but will take the time to soak the steel-cut oats the night before so that they cook quickly in the morning.  When I walk by the mountain of broccoli at the grocery store, I will think of ways to use the frozen kale from the freezer instead.

The goals are to:

• Eat more simple, whole foods.
• Challenge myself to cook with pantry staples (and make them taste good).
• Clear out the pantry and not waste food (allowing myself to finish the older beans before I buy fresher ones).
• Save money!!!
• Drastically reduce trips to the store and increase inner peace.
• Remind myself again about what is enough.
• Feel refreshed and energized by the simplified diet and the simplified pantry.
• Discover what feels essential to our health and well-being (see below about lemons and ginger)  and learn to budget more efficiently to bring those necessary items into our home during winter.

This challenge is an idea I learned about on the forums at CottageSmallholder.com, a favorite blog.  This will be my third winter challenging myself in this way, and I caught myself already playing along today.  I wondered if I should stock up on brown rice because I saw a sale, and then I remembered that soon I will be working to empty my pantry and freezer, and it makes no sense to stock up beforehand.

Anyone want to join me?  I have started a group on Facebook in case you'd like to join to share strategies, recipes, and frugal brilliance.  

My strategy this year:

E drinks a lot of milk, but I may go to the grocery to pick up two gallons of milk at one time instead of going to the grocery twice.  D and E eat meat, but we'll be using more of the meat that we've saved in the freezer instead. I will buy organic lemons and fresh ginger for their bright tastes and healing properties because -- during the last two years of this challenge -- I realized how essential these two ingredients are to my family's health, and they don't grow easily here in Oregon.  We may eat a lot of pesto made from whatever greens -- wild, volunteer, or winter-hardy -- we can find in the garden.  We'll buy apples, but I may just buy a case of a good-storing variety and keep it in the chilly garage.

I'm including my spice cabinet in the challenge this year because it's time for most everything in there to be renewed.  All those beans and grains will appreciate some new spice combinations, too.

 

nuka pickles, kvass

 
I've been enjoying Elizabeth Andoh's new book Kansha:  Celebrating Japan's Vegan and Vegetarian Traditions.  She has a warm, encouraging voice, and she explains process and ingredients in eye-opening ways.  Although I've been cooking Japanese food for twenty years and am familiar with some unusual ingredients, I've had several "aha!" moments while buried in this wonderful book.

I got the book specifically for Andoh's discussion of Japanese pickles -- nuka pickles in particular.  Nuka is powdered rice bran.  To make nuka pickles, you season and culture the bran so that it becomes an intense pickling environment.  Vegetables (whole and sliced) are placed in the nuka, and often they're ready in just a day.  The nuka pot needs to be tended daily or "fed" new vegetables in order to keep its culture going.

Here's a great article Andoh wrote about maintaining a pickle pot -- including finding "sitters" for it when she travels.

So today I set out to begin my own nuka pot.  Earlier this week I found Nuka at Anzen.  This is what it looks like:

I wish I had taken a picture while the nuka roasted in the big iron skillet.  It smelled mysteriously sweet like cookies from heaven or something.   I mixed it with sake and other seasonings, and now it will begin to culture for a couple of days before I begin "feeding" it with vegetable scraps first, then cucumbers and daikon, and then other vegetables.

I covered it up, though, to prevent the light from getting to it.

It's fun to begin adventures like this.  I remember when I first learned to make sauerkraut and what worlds that opened up for me.

While I was off hunting for nuka ingredients, I also went to Fubonn Market, where I found this Chinese Pickle Jar.  If you're familiar with Harsch Crocks and their water seal, you'll see that these Chinese jars also have a water seal. 

 
This one was just $15 -- compared to the $100+ price for a Harsch crock. (That's the lid on the right.  It fits nicely on the rim of the vessel.)  I had hoped to use this Chinese jar for the nuka, but I realized that, although I can fit my hand easily through the top, the shape of it wouldn't allow me to work quickly to bury the vegetable pieces and retrieve the finished pickles on a daily basis.  I'll use it for kvass or something quick like kimchi.

Speaking of kvass...  I made side-by-side batches using whey and pickle juice (fermented) and just decanted and tasted them this morning.  Both are perfectly wonderful -- with the same richness, sweetness and intensity.  The only difference I could tell this morning is that the batch made with whey was slightly fizzier.  Perhaps they will reveal other flavor differences after they're refrigerated for a day or so.  In any case, I was thrilled that the pickle juice version turned out so well because I often find it a drag to strain yogurt yet always have pickle juice on hand, as you know.
 

reason #439 to grow your own vegetables

 
This pesto looks good, doesn't it?  It's very lush and green.  In the bowl here are basil leaves, basil flowers, olive oil, garlic, lemon juice, pepper and salt.  I added the cheese to our noodles at dinner, thinking there might be some of this left to freeze afterwards (wrong).

Listen, though...  when you grow your own basil, you can use the basil flowers in your pesto.  They have heightened aroma and flavor, and -- as long as you use them fresh-picked -- they create super-charged pesto.  If you refrigerate them or let them linger on your counter, they turn bitter, and that is why you don't see basil flowers in the grocery store.

Did you know this?  Now there is no need to cry when your basil flowers!  Pluck the beauties and some lower leaves and use all of their potent energy.  If they're calling out to bees, those bits of basil will make otherworldy pesto.

Tonight's pesto was very good, but I made better pesto for myself on Thursday morning when I was exhausted/sad/overwhelmed and decided to spend the morning in bed.  After I got D and E off to school (both of them on Thursday!), I forced myself out into the garden to harvest some basil. (You know how it's hard to fix yourself something wonderful when you're feeling depressed?  It was one of those days.)

I used ground almonds instead of cheese, lots of basil, lots of garlic, lots of lemon juice and then cayenne instead of black pepper.  D and E would have hated this, but I loved every bit of it.  If you need comfort and medicine some day, make your pesto this way, and you will feel glad.

the beef post

When D went to the naturopath last week (a new thing for him to go to a naturopath for himself), she said he was of a constitution to need much more red meat -- specifically beef.  Since I mostly give him tofu and fish, this presented a problem.  I haven't eaten beef in 30 years and had been refusing to cook beef here inside the house (even though I've been cooking a lot of bacon this year).

But now is a time for many changes.  I went across town today to procure a really good cut of meat from a cow that had a very healthy life.  Tomorrow I will make pot roast in a cast iron dutch oven that my mother gave me (which I haven't used yet because I wasn't looking forward to deep-cleaning all spiritual residue of animal flesh that had been cooked in it).  My mother used to make very good pot roast in this pot, and she's given me all of her tricks.  The roast will be very good, I imagine.

So today I took care of myself and made a pot of beans for me to eat the rest of the week -- black beans, red beans, pinto beans cooked to perfection in the bean pot, in the oven.  I can't say enough good things about this method of making beans.  They are perfect beans, so easy, and so deeply flavored because they relax in the oven for hours.  D and I had these beans for dinner, and now I'm turning some of the cooked beans into a spicy chili for me.  I added some of the leftover pulp from this summer's tomato-juice-making, and I'm going to let it simmer all night.  I enjoyed making the chili as spicy as I want it to be, and I look forward to having this around while they're eating leftover pot roast through the weekend.

I can't help my reasons for not eating red meat.  They aren't political.  I just feel very squeamish.  I do feel a strong (perhaps political)  need to make sure that we buy healthy meat if we buy it.  It was no issue for me to drive across town for this meat.  I was sad that New Seasons was out of rump roast for the next week or so, but I had no problem calling around and finding it elsewhere.   If we will be cooking more beef around here (and that's probably cheaper and better in the long run for David and Ellie if they get deep nourishment from food that makes them feel good), then I'm glad to scope out places from which to procure healthy meat.

It's a big deal for me to cook this thing tomorrow, though.  My friends have heard about the "beef issue" for a couple of months because D has been pining for a pot roast all autumn.  I came up with all sorts of ideas like "Maybe you could cook it at your mom's house!"   When the time of big changes began last week, I realized I needed to accomodate others more.  I realized that I'd be happy to designate my mom's dutch oven and my pressure cooker to any of D's meat needs (I make beans in the oven, after all, and don't need a regular pressure cooker anymore).  He can continue to use the BBQ for steaks and anything else.

I have never been more prepared to make a dish than this pot roast.  I have talked and talked and talked it over with everyone I know.  I have learned all of my mother's tricks.  I remember (fondly, in fact) how my mother's pot roast tasted, and I know I can coax every possible goodness from the healthy meat, organic vegetables, good stock and good wine that I will use.

So this is how I will say good bye to 2009...  In this year, I still grieved my cousin who died late last year.  My dad died .  I had to make my own funeral for my father.  My mother shut down and shut me out.  My brother exploded in grief and rage.  I burned the journals.  We had profound issues with E's school/her changing needs and had to delve deeply within ourselves in order to solve them positively (and this was a subject I couldn't write about here because it involved others here in the community, but we're incredibly grateful for how the issues were worked out in the end).  D's work situation went from toxic to worse and then to lay-off (another subject I didn't feel able to write about here but that colored the last two years in miserable shades of angst).  I gardened and learned how to make real pickles.  I even taught a few nice people how to preserve and to ferment.  I made a vine-cage!  I learned how to say no, and I learned how to give my daughter space to be herself.  I learned how to be grateful for big, hard changes -- even death -- because there's some freedom to be found even when beloved people/things/situations fall away.  I learned how to be stay in the present moment.

To acknowledge all of this, I will cook pot roast for D, E and my mother-in-law tomorrow, and I will marvel at what is now okay with me. 

eve

Today I sold more herb tea.  To a friend.  I guess that still counts.  I trust that she wouldn't have bought some for her own holiday gifts if she didn't love it.  Maybe this is how all businesses get started...  you give away the goods for holiday gifts for a few years, and then sometimes people want to order more to share with their friends.

I also made five nectarine-oat coffee cakes to give to friends and relatives today.   Perhaps you remember the nectarines I canned with my friend S?  I also froze some, and boy do nectarines ever freeze like a dream... 

For the coffee cake, I modify Deborah Madison's Oat and Brown Sugar Coffee Cake recipe from Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone.  The batter is sturdy enough with the oats that I am able to make a couple of layers of batter/sliced nectarines before I put the streusel on top. 

It felt weird to make five huge coffee cakes, though.  I never bake in an organized way.  The house smells amazing.  I am *exhausted.*

Soon we'll go up to my mom's house for a relaxed dinner and let my nephews and E open up a couple of presents.  My mom says my brother is bringing lasagna -- a big wow on many levels.  I made a salad (and I'm okay with that small contribution because I've been up since 5am making coffee cakes so that a few people I love can having something sweet and sunshine-y tomorrow morning).

The trip to the coast requires another post probably.  We made a good try there.  The house was amazing, but it felt icky to us.  We realized too late that the house's owners weren't yet comfortable having people stay there even though the words coming out of their mouths made us think we were truly invited there.  We ended up spending most of the time being afraid to use the bathroom, over-cleaning the place (like removing our germs and a lot of theirs, too), and wishing we were back home.  There also was a mildew problem in one of the rooms downstairs that made it impossible for D and me to sleep anywhere but on the very uncomfortable couch in the living room.  So we didn't sleep very much for a couple of nights, and we're even more tired than two really nice middle-aged people who just got the wind kicked out of their stomachs would be otherwise.  We don't blame our friends because we understand how difficult it is to trust and to share a living space, but it helped us understand how much we really needed a soft, welcoming landing-spot for a couple of days.  We'll create our own soft cushion instead.

I wish you much hope and warmth as the year ends.  I hope next year is good for all of us.

full

Everything worked out okay today except for the carrot salad.  The turkey, the gravy, the stuffing, the company and conversations, the pace.  It was all great.

My mother came, brought wonderful dishes, and stayed longer than I anticipated.  When I called later in the evening to check in with her, she told me that today had been hard for her.  I understand.  How could it not have been hard?  She also was around more people than she's been with in a few years.  And I'm sure that -- despite her natural grief -- it felt awkward to have Thanksgiving away from her own home because she's had a strangle-hold on this holiday for years (I say with affection).  I am pleased beyond measure that she came, stayed for two hours or more, and managed to sit at a table with 9 other people.

I am not as tired as I might be because D has been giving me foot rubs for the last three evenings.  I am incredibly grateful to him for his foot-rubbing skill and for his patience with me.

Right now I am thankful for this:  My kitchen is sparkling clean.  I am grateful to D's mother for staying an extra couple of hours to entertain E while I cleaned up (because D took one of those long "man naps").  I also am glad that the refrigerator is stocked with great food.  I imagine just kicking back and knitting for the next three days.  I have no agenda.  Even the bathrooms are clean, for goshsakes!

I am feeling full and happy.

menu

Appetizers

• roasted hazelnuts
• cheese, crackers, chutney, salami
• carrots, tomatoes, olives, pickles

Dinner

• turkey
• gravy
• mashed potatoes (brother is bringing)
• cornbread dressing
• spicy cabbage salad (mom is bringing)
• two kinds of cranberries (mom and friend are bringing)
• green bean casserole (brother's girlfriend is bringing)
• rolls (mom is bringing her famous rolls)
• Moroccan carrot salad
• pickled beets
• roasted sweet potatoes with a balsamic-maple glaze
• applesauce

Dessert

• pumpkin pie (mother in law is bringing)
• fudge (mom is bringing)
• fresh pears, dates, dried nectarines, almonds, cheese

cleaning the kitchen

I'm being a lot like my mother this weekend, but I'm not stressed out.  I've been deep-cleaning the kitchen -- oiling the cabinets, dusting every nook and cranny, cleaning the stove, re-arranging the cookbooks.  It feels good.  It was time to do this.

The last time we had Thanksgiving here, I think E was an infant, and the house was still rather chaotic from renovations.  More family members came than I had anticipated, and I had to pull out some plates from the back of the cabinet.  I didn't realize that those plates were covered in a film of sawdust until someone was about to fill one up with Thanksgiving dinner.  I caught it before my guests noticed, but I felt pretty icky that I hadn't made sure everything was perfectly clean before the guests arrived.

So...  because it is time for this sort of deep cleaning around here and because I want to feel as relaxed as possible this week, I am leaving no stone unturned.  I have pulled out everything from the cabinets and am washing it all and wiping down the insides of the cabinets.  I'm sorting through plates and baking dishes and have a new donation pile growing in the garage.

I had hoped it would only take a day to finish this job, but I think it will take two and a half days.  I'm tired, but this feels very good -- connected in spirit to the burning of the journals and even the emergency laundry room cleansing that happened earlier this week.  I am getting rid of yuck and all sorts of negative energy.  I am clearing space for creative, happy work.  I am dusting off old treasures and getting rid of things that don't serve me anymore. 

Venera's Chicken Soup Recipe

After I wrote about my latest unsuccessful venture making good chicken soup, my friend Venera sent me her fool-proof/picky-eater-approved recipe.  She says she's happy to share her recipe and technique here.  I am glad!

Venera is a really good cook.  She made an artichoke and potato dish for a school potluck that I've been daydreaming about for the last year.  But on to the chicken soup...

As for what I did wrong in the first place, she thinks I used too big of a pot.  She thinks I should have used one half this size and allowed the chicken to peek above the broth at the top of the smaller pot.  In hindsight, I understand the logic here.  The big pot made me cook everything too long and too hard, and taste suffered.

Venera's Chicken Soup

1 parsnip, 1 rutabaga, possibly some ginger, 1 onion, 4 cloves garlic, 2 stalks celery, 2 carrots, handful of peppercorns, parsley, bay leaf, one leek (but not necessary), sea salt and 1 free range chicken (foster farm chickens just don't make this soup taste good). Cover the vegetables with water and the very top of the chicken should peep out of the water. Bring to a boil, then simmer for 1.5 hour. And that's it. Strain, cook some orzo or whatever pasta you like and serve with some of the carrots and chicken. I skim the fat off the top of the soup. 

To make the soup extra special, instead of adding pieces of chicken, roll up some baby meatballs and add those to the soup and always add Romano cheese to everyone's bowl for extra tastiness.

 

Also, she says, "One trick I learned too was to take salt and rub the chicken inside and out with salt and let it sit for a few minutes and wash the chicken before putting it in the pot. Any toxins from the chicken are cleaned off."  

 

She says she makes this once a week, and it ends up working for two or three meals during the week.  The next day she uses some of the broth to make a thicker gravy for some of the extra chicken meat she's saved.  Even the pickiest eater in her family eats this with pleasure.

 

I'm inspired.  I will try again.  Thank you, Venera.

soup, mush, breakfast, blah...

I still feel fine about burning the journals and letters.  That was a healthy, present-focused thing to do.

I just feel tired, uninspired, icky.

That chicken soup didn't turn out.  The green tomato pickles didn't turn out.  I want to make soup and pickles and eat them every day because they're health-giving, but D won't eat the pickles, and E won't eat the soup.  Why try?

On one of my favorite mailing lists, a woman shared about her "forever soup."  She pretty much keeps a crock pot on low constantly during the dreary months and adds new bits of this and that each day so the soup tastes different every day.  What went in yesterday becomes part of the background flavor for whatever she puts in today. 

I wonder, "Would I like this?  Would it feel like a burden to me?  Would it solve many meal problems here?  How could I get kid and husband on board?"  In theory, I like her idea.  In practice -- here, with this family -- I'm not sure. 

Last week I did an experiment with oats and apples in the crock pot and kept it going for two and a half days.  I liked how it turned out.  It required so much water over that span of time that the oats turned glue-y, but that was unusual and charming to me because I usually make very thick, chunky oatmeal. E said, "This looks like jello!" and refused to eat it even though it was filled with apples, nuts, and maple syrup.  D liked it and even took some to work one early morning.

In my readings in the realm of Chinese medicine and dietary therapy, I read a lot about congees.  For health reasons, this is the sort of thing I'd rather eat most mornings.  I also would like to eat miso soup or even saimin.

A few times, when we've had really good smoked salmon here, E and I have had oatmeal and a bit of smoked salmon.  This is the best power breakfast for me, and I tease her about her Scottish roots.  Oatmeal by itself leaves me hungry an hour later.   But oatmeal and salmon gives me sustained, focused energy.

But there was something really neat about that oatmeal and apples in the crockpot.  It almost tasted as if the apples were beginning to ferment because they took on some husky tones.  Also, apples and oats work so well together to bring health.  I liked that the oatmeal thing was just there and ready on the counter -- even for a snack.

And...  gads... I pretty much just made a post about glop.  Forgive me.  That is how my mind feels right now, too.

chicken soup

 
There is a pot of chicken stock bubbling away on the stove.  I made it the real way and not the prissy way.  This morning I put a whole, real chicken in that pot with some onions and carrots and let it stay there on low until tonight.  I've never done that before -- for reasons you don't want to know about -- so I was brave today.

Tomorrow I will finish the soup with vegetables and herbs, and hopefully it will be the best pot of chicken soup we've ever had.  We need it.  E and I seem to need some extra immune boosting right now because we're extra tired.  D -- so far -- is doing okay.

what's gonna get cooked?

The earth giveth.

E and I went with our friend J to glean some tomatillos from a field leased by a friend of hers on Sauvie Island.  I didn't think tomatillos could grow well here at all, and I have never, ever seen such loaded pepper plants.

The backstory on this leftover harvest is heartbreaking to me, but I wanted to honor what the earth gives in a clear way -- by using it carefully and/or paying for it carefully.  Thankfully, I brought money with me just in case we met up with the tenant, and we did meet up with a relative of his who said she would see him later today.  I gave her $25.  It wasn't enough, but it was all I had.

I've weighed parts of this haul, and I think I came away with 10 - 12 pounds of tomatillos, 8 pounds of jalapenos, and 4 pounds of serranos. 

While there, I also found a few roma tomatoes that hadn't decayed (the rest of the tomatoes in the photo are from our vines).  Two weeks ago, that field would have been full of useable romas, too.  It broke my heart to reach toward each tomato to find that it was rotten on the other side. (Hard year for tomatoes here because of the weather, but these tomatoes would have been okay a couple of weeks ago.)

We stopped into Kruger's to get more cukes when we were out there.  The last bag I got from them turned into such fantastic pickles, that I was greedy for more.

Those cukes went into one of these holy fermenting vessels.  I got another Harsch crock!  Two!  Don't they look lovely?  See that French rolling pin there in front?  That is my new kraut packer.  Do you have a kraut/kimchi packer?  Well, I do...  tra-la-la.  It works great because it is so long and allows me (short, fat lady) such leverage.

Right now, one crock is becoming perfect garlic-dills, and the other is becoming perfect late-summer kimchi.

But back to the photo up top...  time to make salsa, yes?  Can you believe that girl?  She picked a lot of those tomatillos and peppers, too.

in the kitchen

There's a lot to do out in the garden, but I am in the kitchen today -- finding creative uses for the monster zucchini that grew while we were on our trip.

So far, I've made two loaves of whole-wheat zucchini/carrot/apple bread.  They just came out of the oven and smell delicious.  I'm making a zucchini casserole/crustless quiche, too, and if this turns out, I'll make another with peppers, tomatoes and corn.

When D came up and heard what I was doing, he wasn't overly excited about the idea of zucchini casserole.  I understand, but it's important to me that we use what the garden gives us.  We've done pretty good so far this year.  I'm proud of us.  Hopefully, the sweet zucchini bread will make him happy. 

cooking beans, take two

You know how much I love beans.  I've discovered a new way to cook beans that's even easier than the other no-soak way. 

This is my new bean pot.  You don't need one so don't stop yourself from trying this method if you don't have a bean pot.  Just use a heavy-bottomed casserole or lidded soup pot that will fit in your oven.

Cathy's Way of Making Beans in the Oven

• Rinse dry beans.

• Put beans in pot with water or stock (enough so the beans can dance around but not drown or feel lost), salt (yes), splash of olive oil, aromatics like bay leaf and onion (nothing acidic like lemon or tomato).

• Bring pot to a boil and let it bubble on the stove for just a minute or two.

• If using your soup pan, put the lid on the pot and put it in the oven at 200 degrees for one hour (if beans are very fresh) or longer.  If using a ceramic bean pot or lidded glass casserole dish, you need to transfer your beans to this pot at this stage because you don't usually boil such vessels over a burner.

• Check beans a couple of times after an hour, stir, evaluate done-ness and whether you need to add more liquid.

That's it!  The magic here:  Because the heat comes at the beans from all directions, they plump perfectly and keep their shape.  This method requires even less work from the cook.  Even when I've let the beans stay in the oven much longer than an hour or two, they remain perfectly-shaped and bright-tasting.

When the beans are done, you can eat them plain or add acidic ingredients and then keep cooking them until the flavors meld.

tomatoes and crackers

We got the tomatoes in.  If they all grow successfully, we'll be loaded.  We planted more than twenty plants in three rows, and we're going to use the Florida Weave method to stake them.  This lets us plant them closer together yet have room to work with the vines as they grow.

I'm not sure what's going on, but every time we have a big work day in the garden, I can't sleep at night because my legs ache so much.  I was up until 3am last night and then woke up at 6-something this morning to get going on the morning chores.  This sort of exhaustion can take me to the bad place pretty quickly.

I meant to share this photo last week.  Because E really enjoyed her cooking class at the rec center and did more complicated cooking there than she normally does at our house, we realized that she could do more in our kitchen if she wasn't always perched on a stool.  D built her a table/butcher block for the middle of the kitchen -- at just the right height for her.  This is a picture from our last cracker-making adventure.  It worked perfectly and gave her much more control.

I have lots more to say, but I'm too exhausted to write more.  I better just cave in and go rest and let her watch cartoons.  Me = bad mother.