Wife, writer, tinkerer, grower of food. I'm happiest outside our rambling farmhouse with a basket looped on my arm, picking dinner from the garden. That's joy right there. Please follow along; I'm so glad you're here!
On Monday evening, I found myself with twenty five minutes between writing time and cooking dinner time. What do I do, I wondered. I am giving myself permission to spend any and all spare 25-minute blocks on pleasure-- and that's admittedly an easy bargain to make once canning season is over. But still. I had 25 minutes to spend on pleasure, it was sunny, and I had been meaning to address a wilted vase of flowers for a week or so... the project announced itself.
With pruners and Del and Pete in tow, I walked up the rise to our back fence.
I am learning how to use weeds. Last Christmas I had the best time picking and then spray-painting handfuls of dried weeds-- one of the best, easiest crafty projects ever. This time, no spray paint was required, just Siberian iris seed pods, yarrow, queen Anne's lace, milkweed, dried grasses, and poppy seed pods. I moved over a squash and two little pumpkins. And then, the next day I added three ferns in a green bottle, because ferns. I never realized hayscented ferns-- that's what those are-- essentially self-preserve after a frost. They're almost leathery, and oh my goodness, that movement.