finally

Isn't my soil lovely? Will it grow anything? Too soon to tell. We mowed the lawn for the first time yesterday, it was quite the jungle, since it rains a little every day it never seems to be a good day to pull out the push mower. But yesterday was finally the day, I mowed about a third and then conned J. into finishing for me. Today I finally broke down and ordered a hedge trimmer, electric, cordless. After 2 years, I just don't think I'm doing the hedge any favors with the hand trimming. It looks sad and awful, I feel sad about it. Time to try something else. Maybe my trimmers aren't sharp enough or maybe I'm doing it wrong, I don't know, but I give up. I have plenty of other stuff to spend the extra time on, still have to get the apple tree in shape for spring, and somehow figure out how to get the stump out of the garden, and build my new raised beds, plenty to do, plenty to do. Both of my midwives have chickens, I learned today. Do all midwives in this burgh have chickens?





Finally, finally, finally. It wasn't like it was even such a bad winter, or even that it is so incredibly spring like now, it just feels like something has changed.

four

august september october november december

part three

april may june july

part two

february march april may

old year, new year, part one

january february march april









I thought I'd rummage through a few old things, looking for something new

leftovers

We never quite got around to decorating the gingerbread men, or even baking them. We waited too long to find a good cutter, oh well, another year. We had plenty of sweets and now we have gingerbread dough in the freezer for another day.




But I think the day after strata will have to become a regular thing, all the chopped up bits of old bread, leftover vegetables and the stray bit of fruit even, the extra milk and butter steeped with garlic and thyme left over from making the mashed potatoes, bits of cheese and salami from the antipasti and a bunch of eggs, all left to mush up on the counter for the early afternoon.






I baked it at a low temperature, covered for most of the way, in a water bath, I'm not sure I've tried that before but it was a good technique, it came out consistent and tender, no grey egg or undercooked spots. Delicious dinner,  tidied up fridge, super.

aftermath

Yesterday was lovely, oceans of wrapping paper and dirty dishes and friends, near and far. I'm making a strata out of leftovers right now, maybe I'll show you later.

These are just a few from around town, sometimes I see things I would take pictures of if I were traveling, but because I see them all the time I take them for granted, I'm trying to change that.

hello from december

Recently I stopped buying the Sunday Times, didn't renew my New Yorker subscription and stopped bringing home the weekly local papers. And what a success so far! I'm reading more books, I don't come downstairs in the morning and think that I have to wade through all the paper on the counter before I get to doing whatever wants or needs to get done. There is of course a little loss and sense of loss, but much more freedom and sense of freedom.

It doesn't mean that now I have as much time as I need for everything I want to do, but I like the reminder that I get to choose.

holidays aren't really a big deal for me, but colored lights are nice, also food with friends. We almost took the year off from trees, but J. convinced me we should get one, and I'm glad we did.

treats

chestnut and pear bread pudding, I had this for dinner the other night with a little bit of warm caramel,

J. made it for me, as well as these fennel and sesame cookies, biscuits, cracker cookies. . . paximadia is what they are really called I guess. I've been pestering him to make them for months now, I must have come across this recipe in may or june and I've been pining for them since then, but with fennel seeds too. And hot black coffee. I've been pining for all sorts of hard bread like cracker like things lately, rusks, taralli, biscotti, grissini. I bought some taralli from the world foods not long ago, dry stale awful things that made me miss Israel the overnight baker so deeply. Nothing like arriving early in the morning to see him packing up his stuff, racks of bread and cookies, and wine biscuits all over the place. I just got a new cookbook (yes, shocking, I know) and I think I'm gearing up to make some of the yeasted crackery breads and rusks. No, I don't make J. bake everything, just almost everything.We had greek barley rusks for the first time in Queens, a place that is gone now, the owner got up from her table when she saw them delivered to ours and poured the olive oil over them herself, chopped tomatoes, the juice, salt, parsley?, olive oil, olive oil, olive oil and the weird nutty soft hard mushy crunchy rusks, a mountain of them.

cold weather, the wind, ripe pears cut nicely, and chicory, this one down here I was told is called "lucia" after a town. The picture doesn't do any justice to what it's like to crack it open, little blood flecks intensifying toward the center, the palest most elegant yellow.

snap of, snap the

we aren't used to ice here, nor really the slanting winter sun.

I missed my bus yesterday morning, trying to photograph this one poor tree that dropped every single leaf in a big heap the night before. I didn't really catch it, I should have gone back for more pictures after I watched the 14 drive off without me.

no shadow no stars

the thick fog when I walk home at night, the scuffing through leaves and the smell, sometimes you get caught in the rain