Catching up

I've written, like, five posts about why I haven't been blogging lately and they're all crap, and I'm realizing that blogging about not blogging is the number-one reason I haven't been blogging. Because it's really boring.

The short version of those scrapped posts: insomnia is the pits. I've spent over a month now with an epic case of insomnia that is just now starting to become manageable, thanks to a book with a super-cheesy title and a supportive partner. I have almost gotten to the point now where I'm actually thankful to have to face this - particularly the root of it - because it's teaching me a lot about stress and anxiety and life beyond insomnia. I'm meditating and changing my internal dialogue and all sorts of other calming things with the power of my mind. Better yet, all this introspection and mindfulness seems to be building a tremendous urge to be creative and active and social and to open myself to new things, if only to refocus my energy and attention on that which is life-giving, and to prevent myself from Googling insomnia forums.

Since my last blog entry, a lot of life-giving summer has happened. We enjoyed a weekend of baseball and family time in Seattle. While there I got to visit both Essex (for cocktails) and Delancey (for pizza), which had long been on my list due to my appreciation of all things Molly Wizenberg. I picked a bunch of cherries, completed my first (and only, so far) canning project, and made bread with my own sourdough starter. I visited my family in Boise. I went to a David Bazan show, and an art opening for my friend and former professor. I finished knitting a pair of socks. I read "The Big Sleep" by Raymond Chandler while finding the title hilariously ironic since I read most of it during sleepless nights. We over-nighted at the lake; we picnicked by the river. We rode our bikes to Sunday brunch and around downtown. We celebrated many family birthdays. I embroidered a shirt for my dad. I planted dahlias, which are now blooming, and tomatoes, which I'm now harvesting. We started watching Stranger Things. We revisited our favorite spots at Bowl & Pitcher. We went to friend's wedding, and to a beer festival. I invented new recipes with my CSA haul. We've taken many walks at sunset, and have driven along the Palouse. We are watching the summer Olympics.

David Bazan

Home from our morning walk - magical June when both peonies and roses are blooming

I love the smell of my hands after touching a tomato plant

A bottle of wine and a piece of river to ourselves

Sourdough starter

Pizza at Delancy

Father's Day present

Making cookies with my niece

Cocktails at the lake

Bing!

Luna loving life

Classic

Boutique pensione bathroom in Seattle

 A few things yet to happen: a roadtrip with the dog (Boise again), a river float/paddle, swimming (!!), and a Spokane Indians baseball game.

Aside from that, there's that festering need to be creative I mentioned above. The other day I challenged myself to commit to a Creative Hour each day. It could be 20 minutes, too, but an hour is a good goal for me. This helps me think about my creativity each day and gives me freedom in how I want to explore it, depending on my mood. This could be anything from trying a new recipe to picking something from a Pinterest board to continuing on the sweater I've been working on. To be honest, I probably already spend an hour on a lot of these things without really thinking of it, but having that "creative hour" lens really makes me feel that much more intentional and willing to branch out.

So that's that. I hope to check in here a bit more, use a camera that is not always my phone, and show proof of my work. That's what I always intend to do, but in summertime, it's sometimes nice to let these things just sit in reflection mode a bit longer. Speaking of reflection, Joel said something perhaps unintentionally profound to me the other day when we came home after a bike ride. He said, "You can ride up any hill as long as you're in the right gear." I thought about this later and how much that spoke to what I'm going through right now. I've had to do a lot of adjusting lately to account for variations in sleep and energy, but I feel like I'm finding a mode and frame of mind that is helping me get through this chapter, however long it lasts. Our ability to adapt is a gift.

Summer journal: catching up weeks 3 and 4

I curse myself by declaring things like, "Follow this Summer Journal thingy each week!" because inevitably I'll miss one week, and then debate whether to continue at all.

But the fact of the matter is that summer is very summer-like, pulling me in all sorts of directions, and it's not built for routine. Either way, I have a few photos to share. I wish I had more, especially from my trip to Boise.

Here is what summer has looked like recently.

During the heat wave, we spent one Friday night in Peaceful Valley, eating burritos by the river and playing ball with Luna. Just down the road was a community garden.

We held a cornhole championship in the backyard for Joel's birthday.

Behold the cake. I finally made Molly Wizenberg's "Winning Hearts and Minds" cake. This is a Molly Wizenberg summer, apparently.

Margot, perfectly content again in her favorite spot in the window

Since the basement is a cooler place to sleep, we've been trying to coax Luna down there with positive reinforcement (sausage, peanut butter and cheese). Either something from her past or a keen sense of smell or fear of unknown spaces - who knows - is preventing her from joining us. Joel captured the process well. She just won't have it.

A scene in McCall, Idaho. As I mentioned, I did a horrible job of taking pictures on this wonderful little getaway to Boise. I guess part of it was that I got a lot of quality time with my sister - probably the most uninterrupted hang-out time we've had in at least a decade - as well as with my mom and dad and nephews in McCall. There was a lot of sitting and chatting and I didn't think about my camera much.

One of my gifts to Joel for his birthday was a pound of guanciale. In other words, I gave him a pig's jowl. That's love, folks. And also a bit selfish on my part. Now he can make us dishes like this bucatini all'amatriciana for months.

The weather has been crazy around here. Between mini tornadoes and distant wildfires, we've gotten a few incredible sunsets.

Just half a batch of strawberry freezer jam

Confession: I have never canned food, much as I love pickles and jams and a good canned pear. I admire those who do. Personally, sterilizing everything sounds like a major pain - and I'm really afraid of botulism. It sounds like an ordeal. Is it an ordeal? Maybe one day I'll bite the bullet and find out how easy canning really is. 

Freezer jam, though: I can get behind that. It's a lazy man's jam that tastes really special. I love the bright, fresh flavor of this method, which is really just flash-cooked off heat. 

I picked up a couple pints of strawberries at the Thursday Market last week, just enough for two cups of mashed berries. Because normal recipes for freezer jam call for 4 cups, I took a risk and used half the pectin packet and less than half the sugar it listed.

I had wonderful success, so if you're like me and don't want to make a whole boatload of freezer jam, give this a whirl. I love it on everything: my oatmeal, toast, pancakes, Monte Cristos, soft cheeses, and straight from the spoon.

Strawberry Freezer Jam for 2 pints of berries

2 pints strawberries, mashed with a potato masher, leaving some nice chunks (should make about 2 cups)
Half a 1.75-oz packet of pectin, or about .8 oz. (I use Sure-Jell - though you could use alternatives)
1 1/3 c. sugar

Place the pectin and sugar in a non-reactive skillet or pan and add 1/2 c. water. Stirring constantly, bring to a boil over medium high heat. Continue to stir and boil for a minute and remove from heat. Add the berries and stir for another minute.

Ladle the jam into clean small containers, as many as you need (I used three old jam jars). Cover and let sit at room temperature for a day to let it set, then freeze for a few months or, for immediate use refrigerate for a few weeks.

Spring exit

Growing up in Boise, rain was exciting. We didn't get it nearly as much as we do in Spokane (or so it seems to me). I have such vivid memories of sitting on the cement with my best friend Laura, watching the drops soak in around us and singing "It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring." Poor old man. He was missing out on a weather event!

At school, the rain didn't often deter our recess unless it was hailing or something, and it was always fun to be out with my see-through umbrella that had a Mickey Mouse pattern on it.

I especially loved rain in the summer, and those times I could float around in the pool while big drops hit the water. Who cares if you get wet? You're already wet.

I still love the smell: mulchy and sweet; the lamp light that warms up the room in the daytime; the hopelessly optimistic rainy-day music it inspires me to think of (besides the aforementioned "Old Man" song) - "Singin' in the Rain," or my favorite, Shirley Temple's "I Love to Walk in the Rain."

It rained for almost two days straight this past week, and I couldn't help but think of old Shirley again (R.I.P.) and feeling "wonderful when the skies above are thunderful." (Here's the clip. Sweet, if a little racially uncomfortable, as was typical of these old musicals.) I wouldn't say that my love of rain is nearly as strong as it was when I was a kid, or if you could even call it a love of rain. In fact, I usually moan about it because it is often followed by dry, gray days around here. But in weeks like this one, when the forecast shows a solidly upward trend toward sun and warm weather by the weekend, I can certainly appreciate the free watering of my garden.

By Wednesday evening, the sun had returned.

 Luna's not really a huge fan of the rain. She needs vitamin D, too. Also: your eyes are not playing tricks on you - there is indeed a fanny pack in the picture. He totally rocks it, too.

I love these furry catalpa leaves.

(Another reason these old neighborhoods are the best: the street names are etched into the sidewalks.)

The eve of summer happens to be about the time Joel and I commemorate the first time we went out as a *couple* instead of just pals, and shortly thereafter launched just about the funnest summer anyone could have. It's time to bring on another. My summer journal begins on Saturday.

WEEKEND: 6.6.14

 When you're walking walking walking and suddenly you realize there are coconuts on the sidewalk.

This flower seems like it belongs in the "Golden Afternoon" scene from Alice in Wonderland, singing with its fellow blossoms.

We recently got hip to the fact that the ice cream shop in our neighborhood serves these Liege style waffles. They're special because they're made with caramelized pearl sugar and are crispy and pastry-like. No surprise: bananas and Nutella taste great on them. I got the version with Greek yogurt, honey, bananas and sliced almonds. We will be doing this again and again.

Confession: these herby and pasta photos were not taken this weekend. The photo above was just a pretty scene on the stove on some recent evening when Joel was flavoring the oil for an epic mushroom sauce. The photo below was from a different meal: pasta carbonara, which I would say fits in the top 10 dishes of my life. Joel picked up guanciale (bacon-like heaven) in Seattle last weekend with the express purpose of making this and other Roman pasta dreams. Seriously.

Okay, back to weekending. There is a woman in the neighborhood who has the most incredible garden with these looooong cone-like flowers I have never seen before. Have you?

 We introduced Luna to the Spokane River. She was like, "Eh."

This was more her speed.

I didn't do a very good job of documenting the momentous things, like our visit with family from Germany, and our trek to Elk Fest to see an old pal headline the Saturday night line-up. It was all grand and over too soon.