by Krista | Nov 11, 2015 | Spring
“I was born to find goblins in their caves
And chase moonlight
To see shadows and seek hidden rivers
To hear the rain fall on dry leaves
And chat a bit with death across foggy nights.”
James Kavanaugh
I woke up early this morning needing to be outside. I needed cool breezes on my skin, dew on my bare feet, the gentle warmth of the sunrise on my face.
I walked through the grass, utterly delighted that after months of little but sun-baked earth we actually have grass, real grass, long, vivid green, and lush grass coated in morning dew. After a drought or a long winter, is there anything more soul-nourishing than strolling through dew-covered grass?
I took my sleep-addled self into my gardens, feeling the stress of unwanted dreams dissolve in the luscious, golden light of sunrise as it slipped and shimmered its way onto leaves and blossoms.
There’s something about quieting one’s soul in nature that dissolves anxiety and returns us to peace. It grounds me, centers me, helps me breathe deeply again. And it renews my excitement about life. Helps me take my rumpled feelings by the hand and step forward with courage and resolve.
I did that this morning, buoyed by light and scent and beauty.
Bear and I had a lovely time running errands. We stocked up on fresh fruits and veggies at the farmer’s markets – massive stalks of rhubarb, new crop Red Delicious Apples, and ridiculously juicy pears – and found treasures at the thrift store. We popped in to the nursery and found rosella and eggplant seedlings, just what I needed to complete my garden.
Bear treated us to fresh-baked cinnamon pastries and coffee at the bakery, and got a bag of bread rolls that will be lovely accompaniment to a big pot of potato soup for dinner. Such a lovely thing to do in the middle of the week.
Now we are home again, thoroughly enjoying an overcast sky and deliciously cool breezes. It’s quiet and peaceful, just the sort of afternoon for baking and cooking and reorganizing the house. I never want to clean house when it’s hot, but give me a cool, blustery day, and I’ll happily scrub, tidy, and organize.
So now I bid you farewell, and head off to the Granny Flat to pull out my boxes of Christmas decorations and start festooning our house with anything glittery, shimmery, and sparkly I can find. xo
by Krista | Nov 9, 2015 | Spring
It’s a quiet, cozy sort of night, one cool enough that we actually have to close the windows and cuddle into flannels to keep warm. Such a marvelous change after the humidity and heat of the last week or so.
I love evenings like this when we can have comfort food – hamburgers topped with port wine jelly – visit over a sip or five of Malbec, and look through the Christmas issues of favorite magazines for inspiration.
I need these moments of peaceful comfort to catch my breath and bring my soul back to rest. Especially when I’m going through a scary phase of healing.
Healing is a beautiful word, a word that gives me hope and restores my courage, but it’s not an easy thing. For me, healing means going deeper, past the loose soil of things I’ve already worked through, and into the dark, heavy clay that only breaks up with much resolve and determination. It’s worth it, but it’s difficult and scary.
Going deeper means nightmares. Always. I’m never in any doubt as to when my body is ready to enter another phase of healing, for it heralds such moments with vivid nightmares that don’t end until I wake screaming or crying or both. I’m thankful for my Bear who is attuned to such things and doesn’t mind being roused in the middle of the night. He just shakes me out of the awfulness, pulls me close, and reminds me I’m safe and loved and OK. Then teases me about being such a noisy roommate.
I don’t like nightmares. Not one bit. But I’ve learned a lot through them. Sometimes I can wake myself. Other times I’m able to change the story, to fight back, to not let the bad guys win. This time around I’m learning to remind myself I’m not alone. In the past I had to fight back by myself, and woke exhausted and sad. But now, somehow, I know there are people who’ve got my back. The nightmares are still awful, but they aren’t hopeless and now I know I’m not alone.
That made me smile this morning as Bear and I talked through the latest nightmare. I woke shaken yet comforted, filled with greater love for the true friends who are there to stand by me, even in my dreams.
I don’t know where nightmares come from or what prompts them or why, one day, they just disappear until the next time. But I do know that somehow they’ve helped me be stronger in real life. The truths I’ve learned in the darkness stay with me in the light: I can change the story, I can fight back, and I’m not alone.
What is something you’ve learned that helps you in dark times? xo
by Krista | Nov 5, 2015 | Spring
It’s dark and cloudy today, the air fragrant with the scent of rain-dampened earth and my cup of Earl Grey tea steaming next to me.
We’re moving slow this morning, weary and bleary-eyed from hauling, stacking, unloading, hauling, and re-stacking 170 bales of hay this week. When we finished sliding in the last bale yesterday afternoon, we were drenched from three rain storms and plastered from head to tow in hay and hay dust. Is there anything more glorious than a shower on such occasions?
It was a huge project but a fun one, mostly because we got to take beautifully scenic drives through the country and spend time with our friends, Doug and Avis, whose gardens I wrote about a while back. Their gardens are still stunning and inspiring, and when we took breaks from stacking hay, Avis and I got to wander through them a bit, sighing happily at all the flowers, vegetables, and fruit trees. She gave me poppy seeds from ones growing wild in her patch and a Pride of Bolivia tree that is going to be planted next to our chook yards where it will provide both shade and beauty with its leafy branches and gorgeous yellow flowers.
This morning I’ll be planting them along with the other treasures I’ve been collecting from sale bins and market stalls and seed packet displays.
I’ve got five varieties of tomatoes, multi-colored bell peppers, lush little basil plants, Jerusalem artichokes, Butternut squash, dill, lavender, leeks, red-cored carrots, and these gorgeous little oca yams that have sprouted marvelously.
Once everything is planted, I’m giving myself the rest of the day to cook, bake, simmer, stew, and make all sorts of delicious things. Bear is craving cookies with crystallized ginger and sultanas, and I’m pining for a good potato casserole with ham and caramelized onions and cheese. After so much hard physical labor this week, it’s time for comfort food and pottering in the kitchen.
What are you craving today? xo
by Krista | Nov 1, 2015 | Summer
I love this time of year when the rains come and the last parched, barrenness of winter is washed away.
My gardens are so pretty right now, filled with flowers and flowering herbs: rosemary, cilantro, yarrow, comfrey, and sage. Hollyhocks and calendula are coming up, lemongrass sprouting, and my bell pepper and tomato plants are covered with tiny fruits.
The wild things are growing beautifully too. As I walk through the fields with my dog, Luna, I find the beginnings of creeping Winter Apple berries and heaps of wild plantain. I continue to pick the plantain to use in quiches, salads, and soups in my kitchen, but last week I picked a bunch to share with a friend who combines it with comfrey and other herbs to make healing balms to treat aching muscles. It’s such a lovely and versatile plant.
This past week I’ve been nurturing seedlings, spoiling them with rain water to get them strong and healthy before being transplanted into the gardens. This week I’ll plant them out, filling prepared beds with more tomatoes, Lebanese cucumbers, capsicums, and elderflowers.
I’ve also been sprouting oca – gorgeous little South American yams in vivid pink and orange – and Jerusalem artichokes, a gift from a dear friend. I’m so excited to get them planted and see how they do.
Yesterday was spent hauling hay, lots and lots of hay, getting our barn filled after our goats finished off the last of the winter hay. There’s something wonderfully satisfying about getting the bales stacked neatly, right up to the roof, knowing our goats will be well fed no matter what the weather does this summer.
After all that hard work, today was for resting and only doing pleasant things. We had brunch at a lovely cafe, found new plants for our gardens, then came home and pottered. I pressed play on a new audio book – “The Curse of the House of Fosket” by M.R.C. Kasasian – which I’m enjoying immensely, and wood-burned a couple of orders. My favorite piece is this custom design I did on a round cheeseboard/cutting board. It makes me smile.
We’ve been eating simply lately, fresh fruit and veggies and slices of our favorite grainy sourdough bread topped with sliced bananas or fried eggs or traditionally fermented Danish salami with ajvar or marinara sauce.
We’ve also been eating entirely too much pizza thanks to a rather hilarious mix-up on Friday night. We were both gone for the afternoon running errands in different cities, and decided to surprise the other with pizza for dinner. How we laughed when we both walked in bearing pizza boxes. On the bright side, I hardly did a lick of cooking all weekend!
Now it’s time to curl up with my book and read a few more pages before falling asleep.
What’s going on in your part of the world? xo
by Krista | Oct 30, 2015 | Spring
A while ago Bear surprised me with my very own spinning wheel and loom. I was thrilled! Spinning and weaving is something I’ve wanted to do since I was a little girl. I remember being enamored by pictures in my fairy tale books of women in lovely old cottages in the woods churning out skeins of yarn and beautifully woven blankets. I was thrilled, yes, but also bamboozled. I had no idea what to do with either wheel or loom.
Last week I got to spend a day with my new medieval friend, Mim, who volunteered to teach me how to spin wool on my dear but unused spinning wheel. She is a highly skilled spinner and weaver who has mastered drop spindles, spinning wheels, and looms, creating stunning works of art based on medieval patterns and techniques. She comes by it naturally for her grandfather made spinning wheels and her grandmother taught her how to use them.
I, on the other hand, have not mastered anything related to spinning, and have no experience turning wool into yarn. Although I come from a long line of fabulous knitters – mother, aunts, and grandmothers – the only knitting I’ve mastered is finger-knitting. If you ever need endless lengths of finger-knitted cord, I’m your gal.
Thankfully Mim is a patient teacher, and soon helped me navigate the unique vocabulary of spinning and knitting. Before long she had me carding wool for the first time, using firm rocking motions to transform twisted lumps of tangled wool into smooth, knot-free batts of wool ready for the spinning wheel.
Mim showed me how to take apart the wheel for cleaning, where to rub with lanolin to keep things running smoothly, and how to adjust the tension.
Then she showed me how to spin. It looked so easy when she did it. Fingers expertly stretching the wool so it fed in evenly as her foot pumped rhythmically, keeping the wheel going at a steady clip.
Then it was my turn. Within seconds the wool I was holding was a mangled bunch of fibers, the spinning wheel was running backwards, and my “thread” was a lumpy, bumpy mess. Clearly I am not a natural.
But that’s OK. Mim assured me that I will get better with practice, and that it’s perfectly normal to thoroughly muss everything up the first time around. Bless her for that.
I’m going to keep trying, and try again until I learn how to coordinate everything, figure out the feel and give of the wool, and remember to keep the peddle going so it doesn’t suddenly lurch into reverse. I’ll get there.
And if I keep messing up for a good while, that’s alright too. There’s always the Russian bakery near Mim’s where I can drown my spinning sorrows.
Have you ever spun wool before?
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