An attitude of gratitude

You may have noticed a trend on this here blog lately.

I've started an admittedly cheesy but entirely worthwhile habit: Spending a couple of minutes every night recalling a few things from the day for which I am grateful. This is not an even remotely original idea and if you really must know I got it from someone I heard on Oprah.

That's right, Oprah. I mean the woman must be doing something right, don't you think?

So anyway -- it seemed a good idea to me, this notion of purposely reflecting back on the good rather than the bad. I mean dwelling on the negative is a no-brainer, something I can fall into like a soft leather easy chair: comfortable, familiar, inviting. My mind lands there almost in spite of itself but I really have to wonder why, because it certainly doesn't do the rest of my body any favors. Knots in my stomach, a clenched jaw, tight shoulders, and a headache every night are not exactly the way I like to wrap up my day. But that's just what I've managed to do on more nights than I care to remember.

The interesting side effect is that I find myself a lot more mindful all day long of the many small things for which I truly am grateful. A particularly funny response from a three year old, puffy white clouds morphing across the sky, a freshly swept floor, an unexpected note from a friend -- all of these things really are fantastic if you think about them. All those little joys there for the taking, but only if you take the time to appreciate them.

Right now I am filthy, covered literally from head to toe in dust and dirt and pollen, but I couldn't be happier. It's my merit badge for a day well-spent, enjoying the sun and the breeze with my family and working the earth to finally realize years of dreams for this home of ours. I'm hungry after a day of working in a way that my desk job doesn't allow, but I'm thankful. The physical effort is a gift to my body. I'm tired, but I'm content. These weary bones have a cozy bed and soft pillow to crawl into tonight and are sure to get all the rest they need before another day begins tomorrow.

I'm filthy and hungry and tired, and couldn't be more grateful for it. What a blessing.

My how I do loves me some green cleaning

I had no idea people really cared about my obsession with homemade cleaners, but lookey here -- a really long post about just that very thing!

[Disclaimer: I'm no expert and I wouldn't suggest you use any of these without testing them out on something relatively harmless first. But here's what I've tried and so far I'm happy!]

Bathroom cleaners

Start with:

• 1 cup white vinegar
• 1 tablespoon liquid soap (I like Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day in Lemon Verbena -- so fresh!)

Pour into a clean, empty glass jar*. Swish around to mix it together, then use as follows:

1. As a toilet bowl cleaner -- pour ~1/2 cup of the above mixture in the bowl, then add ~1/4 cup of baking soda. Enjoy the foamy show, then let it sit while you clean the rest of the bathroom. Clean with a toilet brush and flush. Done!

2. As a general purpose cleaner (I used it on porcelain, tile, painted wood work, faucets, acrylic tub, etc) -- Add 1/2 - 3/4 cup water to the remaining mixture and swish to mix. You could probably pour this into an empty spray bottle, but I just poured some onto a rag and used that to clean all my surfaces. Wipe down with clean water; be sure to dry off any painted wood surfaces and voila! Done and done.

Plain white vinegar is the shezizzle!

• Fill your coffee carafe with water, topping it off with about 1/2 cup of vinegar, then run it through the coffee maker (without coffee, of course!). Flush it out with a couple of runs of plain water and you've just done a great job of cleaning out your coffee carafe and the reservoir.
• I have read -- but not yet tried -- that vinegar makes the BEST fabric softener. I know, I know. Who wants to smell like a pickle? But here's the thing: the vinegar smell disappears as the clothes dry, leaving them very soft and residue/chemical free. What's that? You LIKE your freshly laundered clothes to have a pleasant smell? No problem! Just add a few drops (say 20) of natural essential oils to a gallon of vinegar. Add 1/2 cup of this in place of regular fabric softener.
• To get sparkly, streak-free windows, spray on vinegar and wipe off with newspaper. Yes, newspaper!

I could go on, but why bother when this site has done it for me? www.vinegartips.com

Granite

There are some times (gasp!) when vinegar shouldn't be your go-to cleaner. If you've got granite countertops, you can try this recipe for a quick, inexpensive, natural cleaner:

• Pour 1/4 cup rubbing alcohol into a spray bottle
• Add 3 drops liquid soap
• Swish to mix
• Fill the bottle with water

There you go! Spray and wipe down to keep your granite surfaces sparkling. : )

Wood cutting boards

OK first -- you know you shouldn't be using your butcher block for preparing or carving meat, right? Right.

Still, even if you only use it for prepping fruits, nuts, veggies, herbs & the like, you've got to keep it clean. My fast & fresh-smelling solution is to cover the surface of the block in kosher salt (the only salt I cook with), then rub it in with a half of a lemon. I squeeze the juice in as I go so it doesn't get too dry. The salt acts as an abrasive and the lemon cleans & freshens the wood. Rinse with clean water & let air dry.

Furniture polish

FULL DISCLOSURE: I haven't tried this yet. But I think I will, one of these days!

To a spray bottle add:

• 1 cup olive oil (cheap is fine)
• 1/2 cup lemon juice

Spray a small amount on any wood surface then wipe til dry. I would be very careful not to be heavy-handed with this, as too much oil would get sticky and dirty very quickly. Still, might be worth a try on one inconspicuous piece to see if it works!

And hey, if you don't like it, you're all set to mix up a vinaigrette for dinner, right?

Laundry soap

Just mixed this up tonight & can't wait to try it! [This recipe is taken nearly word-for-word from Amanda Soule's website, www.soulemama.com.]

• 2 cups of finely grated castile soap
• 1 cup of baking soda
• 1 cup of washing soda (also called soda ash -- we found it with the pool cleaning supplies at Lowes!)
• 1 cup of Borax

Mix it together & pour into a container that you can seal tightly. Add 2 tablespoons to your laundry; depending on your water you may need more/less, so do some experimenting til it's just right for you. This won't get real sudsy, which is especially helpful if you have a front-loading washer.

For the love of it all, what more could she possibly have to say??

There are some great resources out there if you, like me, have been bitten by the green/penny-pinching living bug. Here are a couple you might look into:

Do It Gorgeously by Sophie Uliano. You can check out her website, too: www.gorgeouslygreen.com

Clean House Clean Planet by Karen Logan. I've not picked this one up yet, but my friend Hanne recommends it and she wouldn't steer me wrong!

The Backyard Homestead by Carleen Madigan. No, this isn't about green cleaning, but it's a crazy resource if you're into home growing/self-sufficiency.

www.soulemama.com by Amanda Soule. Amanda's website is not dedicated to green/economical how-tos, but she's had more than one post about just those very things (like the laundry soap above). An absolute must if you're into knitting/sewing, too!

Artisinal Bread in 5 Minutes a Day by Jeff Hertzberg and Zoe Francois. Alright, I've gotten completely off-track -- but only sort of, because fresh homemade bread is not only delicious, it's much less expensive than store-bought and you know exactly what's in it!

If you have any favorite books, tips, or websites I would LOVE it if you shared them in the comments section.

*If you don't already, I highly recommend that you start saving glass jars as you empty them -- pickle jars, mayonaisse jars, jarred fruits, jams & jellies, etc. Run them & the lids through the dishwasher and you've got free, environmentally friendly, reuasable/recyclable storage containers. I use them ALL THE TIME, for making & storing salad dressings, dispensing bulk items into smaller containers, storing left overs, mixing slurries, collecting spare change, saving buttons, mixing up cleaners... everything. In a pinch, I've even been known to throw my morning coffee in there when I haven't had a clean thermos available.

I remember when I was a kid my Aunt Lynne (hi, Aunt Lynne!) was the most far-out hippie chick I knew (love you, Aunt Lynne!) and I would always see her with jar after jar of sprouts and nuts and boiled eggs and God-knows-what-else. Probably carob, because I hated that carob, but she always seemed to have it. I always thought she was crazy with all the jars (still love you, Auntie Lynne!) but now I totally get it.

But I don't miss the carob. Not at all.

Pour les oiseaux

Rarely to I appreciate that walk into work on Monday morning, particularly when it is a frigid grey morning with the promise of more snow to come.

Actually, it’s fair to say that I never appreciate that walk into work. But today was different.

I have this thing about trees and birds – really, about all the things my mother and I spied outside our kitchen window. Birds, trees, plants, squirrels (except, of course, when they were on the feeders), the garden… we loved them all. Mom was no expert but she had logged hundreds of hours staring out of those kitchen windows and cultivated more than a passing interest in the life that was buzzing around our little microcosm of a backyard. We had the binoculars and the field guides, and plenty of time on our hands.

Now I’m the one with more than a passing interest. As I’ve been dreaming about our home and how it will look and feel, over and over again I am drawn to these things. I imagine crafting a boot bench using the sturdy, fat trunk of a tree we took down from the back yard, the rough texture and nutty color of the bark so appealing in its familiarity. I found this nest last summer that I have tucked away to display on our mantle, miraculously saving it all these months from destruction at the hands of my sweet girl. And every Pottery Barn catalogue I find in the mail these days seems to know that I’m eagerly preparing for our long-awaited move home, as page after page offers rugs and pillows and dishes and sheets that feature birds and trees and flowers. I could - without a doubt - go crazy if left to my own devices.

Luckily I got a freebie today, some performance art put together by God (I am convinced) just for me on this cold, weary Monday. I saw it as I approached the ED entrance at the hospital, a flurry out of the corner of my eye that seemed a bit out of place at that moment in time. A small, ornamental tree I’ve grown so accustomed to seeing that I can’t even tell you what it is – but on this morning, it was alive with dozens of robins, hopping from branch to branch and feeding on the small dark berries it produces. The bird's russet breasts looked just like those last leaves of autumn, stubbornly clinging to the tree; the fluttering of their grey grey wings caused the tree to sway like a late fall wind was blowing, though the air was almost still where I stood. And then, when I had decided that the sight of it was as perfect as I could hope for, I saw a squirrel perched on one of the slender branches, his body plumped by fat and fur and his tail pulled up along its back to help brace against the cold.

And with that, it was perfect.

If there weren't patients waiting I would have stood there and watched this picture unfold in front of me in spite of the bitter weather, and if I could have reckoned a way to capture the moment and bring it into our new home I would. But it was fleeting, as all the best things in life must be, and so I’ll just have to look forward to the next time that God supplies an unexpected joy like the one I stumbled across today. With open eyes I suspect I can find many of these small masterpieces. He does have quite a canvas to work with, after all.

Maybe that’s why Mom spent so much time looking out that kitchen window.

Garden porn

I've spent hours (no, seriously) pouring over the seed catalogues: Burpee, Jung, Territorial, Johnny's. After dreaming about all the possibilities, then paring it down to something more realistic, then paring it down to something that actually might be realistic, I've landed on the following line up for this summer's garden:

• Asparagus: Jersey Knight [in truth, this is still a maybe - not sure I have the space to dedicate. YET.]
• Pole beans: Malibu [probably no bush beans, but if so: Soleil]
• Carrots: Purple Haze and Baltimore
• Popcorn (yes, popcorn!): Calico
• Cucumbers: Diamant and McPick
• Lettuce: Petite Rouge, Jericho (romaines), Victoria (butterhead), & Microgreen mix
• Watermelon: Petite Treat
• Onions: Copra
• Spinach: Olympia
• Tomatoes: San Marzano Gigante, Golden San Marzano (paste), Chocolate Cherry, Yellow Pear (cherry), Brandywine, Pineapple, Kellogg's Breakfast (heirloom)

With some obvious exceptions (lettuce, melon) these were selected with both fresh eating and storing/preserving for winter in mind. Depending on how things pan out I'd also love to try some potatoes. We've never done them before but it would be fun to grow some fingerlings to have around next winter. I'm also hopeful that we can do some swapping with a certain fabulous gardener friend that I happen to know.

If we have a successful year or two (or three or four), then I'm hoping we can branch out and try some other favorites: beets, broccoli, cauliflower, winter squash, cantaloupe, sugar snap peas... obviously, I could go on & on. But I won't.

Oh! And then there's the herb garden...

• Basil: Aroma 1
• Chives: from my mom's original stand
• Dill: Dukat
• Lemon Verbena
• Sweet Marjoram
• Oregano: Greek
• Sage: Grower's Friend
• Thyme: French

Hmm. That's still quite a list. But I have no idea what I'd be willing to part with.

We've also got some strawberries that we need to get a better handle on, and I'm dreaming of red & black raspberry bushes and blueberries as well, and who wouldn't love blackberries and grapes and an apple tree or two?

Some day...

Getting ahead of myself

Today is Monday, December 21.

Just four days until Christmas.

I am not done with my shopping, and haven't even thought about wrapping, and have just a bit of baking/cooking to do. You might think that I would feel a little overwhelmed by all of this.

You would be wrong. The thing is, I have seeds on the brain.

More precisely, I have next year's garden on the brain. This is a phenomenon that usually sets in a week or so into January, when the dust of the holidays is long settled and that mid-winter funk starts to set in. The seed catalogues begin to arrive, and I spend hour after hour leafing through them, planning gardens and scheming about canning and freezing and preserving.

We will never have a big enough yard to fulfill these wild dreams of mine. (My dear husband should take some small comfort in this.)

I've been doing my best to stave off these cravings. After all, it's the holidays! I have a little girl who is VERY excited about Christmas, and Santa, and carrots for Rudolph! 'Tis the season! And while on the one hand I am not as overcome by the holidays as I have been in years past -- with the traditions and the merriment and the warm-fuzzy feelings -- on the other hand I am not as overcome by the holidays as I have been in years past -- with the rushing and the stressing and the why-didn't-I-start-this-in-October panic.

To me this feels like a year of transition, at least holiday-wise. This will be, to say the least, a Christmas like no other. The vestiges of the season spent so often with my parents have all but completely fallen away, and let me be quick to say: I'm alright with that. The traditions that are dearest aren't going anywhere. But still, it's all so different. A little freeing even.

Free to dream about seeds, and planning, and a summer spent working and playing in the garden with Sara; remembering how my father tended the plants and my mother put up the harvest, and then making our own way ahead. Maybe ultimately, that's really what I'm looking toward: time in the garden with Mom and Dad. A new season to celebrate with them.