Summer in full swing

I've been having a hard time keeping up with the old blog lately, haven't I? Life is full and busy, summer is in full swing, and, before yesterday, I hadn't had a day to fill exactly as I choose in awhile. The thing is, of course, that I want to be here.

I'm eager for the time for summer recipes, and garden pictures, and the return of What I'm Wearing Wednesday. Those things will come. The craziness of "summer in full swing" has subsided a little this week, and I'll looking forward to the space and stillness. You need that space and stillness for important summertime activities. Picking blueberries. Picking aphids. Eating cole slaw for lunch, ice cold, right from the bowl.

It felt so good yesterday just to wallow, a little. To stay in bed until ten, all three of us.

To take a long, quiet walk in a pretty green place. Hadn't done that in awhile.

My favorite Sunday tradition, writing the week's meal plan, was helped along with farm stand cabbage and tomatoes, and zucchini from my mom's garden (thanks mom!).

The incredible heat has finally broken, making a patch of sun on the floor actually a desirable place to be for Pete and Diesel.

Dinner was zucchini pancakes, cole slaw, and ice cold Belgian beer. It was a sweet and restorative sort of day.

The main event of the weekend was a baby shower for my friend Stephanie. I'll share pictures and links to recipes tomorrow.

Pizza with Chard

A good time to bake pizza it was emphatically not. We've been in the throes of a no-holds-barred heat wave smack-down since Sunday, with temps consistently in the low to mid nineties. I'm pretty sure you could roast a chicken in our attic. Even the downstairs of our house, which ordinarily stays pretty cool, has turned sweltering, despite the open basement door. To whit: yesterday, the temperature said 92 in the kitchen. That was before I turned on the oven. But pizza was on the menu, and so pizza there would be.

I mix my pizza dough in quadruple batches in the bread machine, freezing the extra lumps until they're needed. In our house, they never last long. Pizza, we've found, is a tenet of kitchen economy. Got leftovers? Put 'em on pizza. Got garden tidbits? Put 'em on pizza. Got moldy cheese? Scrape off the mold first, and put it on pizza. Though last night's pie didn't feature moldy cheese, it was definitely a case of culinary ingenuity.

Sautéed chard from the garden, feta, kalamata, and slivers of red onion, plus a liberal dusting of black pepper, made a tasty, fortifying meal. When combined with a large porch, an oscillating fan, and an ice cold bottle of chardonnay, it was quite the perfect summer dinner.

Stay tuned tomorrow, for Sweetfern's Famous Attic-Roasted Chicken!

(I might be kidding about that last part.)

Independence Day

This weekend we journeyed west to Chataqua Lake, to celebrate the fourth with Patrick's family. The heat was stifling, but oh, the lake breezes were magnificent. There were state parks to explore.

Mini golf courses to try out. (He beat me!)

A baby quilt to work on.

The holy tradition of three generations in the kitchen, preparing a meal. Grandmother and granddaughter shucking corn.

Pesto chicken and marinated tofu perfected on the grill.

Hosta blossoms and penny mums stuffed into a mason jar.

And one of the most beautiful dinner plate-fuls I've seen. Sweet corn on the cob, potato salad with green beans, fruit salad, and grilled deliciousness.

In the evening, everyone on the block began to filter downward, to the shore. People passed by carrying lawn chairs and coolers, marshmallows and scrap wood for the neighborhood bonfire. A golf cart chauffeured old folks down to the dock. At a quarter after nine, fireworks began to explode in earnest, all around the lake.

I was struck by the neighborliness of it all: the feeling of community, the kids playing with each other, the shared smores and smiles and sparklers. At ten, everyone lit flares, and the whole shoreline was lit pink. Patrick and I raised our glasses. It was tremendously beautiful.

Best fourth ever! Hope yours was, as well.

I was here, now I'm back...

It just isn't summer until I've swayed in a dusty field in the fading light, holding tight to my plastic cup and watching the glowstick showers. For me, it's more about the journey than the destination. The long drive through silvery oat fields, the camaraderie of backseat friends, the simple and vital provision of beer and pasta salad in our cooler: these things make it worth it for me. If I don't quite know the words, if I can't quite share Patrick's euphoria at a Mike's Song --> Simple --> I Am the Walrus jam, well, that's okay. After the chilly walk back to the car, there's still plenty of pasta salad for the ride home.

Precious time

Periodically, I do this. I dream an occasion, a guest list, a menu. I load our house with cantaloupes, black cherries, bags of summer squash. Patrick handles the beer. I consecrate an entire weeks' worth of after-work home time to scrubbing, slicing, and baking, for the heady joy of making the people we love full and happy.

The Menu

Pita chips with baked eggplant dip

Grilled Veggie Panini

Sweet Potato Salad with Rosemary

Black eyed pea salad

Dilled White bean and Tomato salad

Tropical fruit salad

Cabbage-Cucumber salad with tamarind dressing
Cashew Butterscotch bars

Our big second-story porch was filled to capacity. Bottles and glasses clinked. Cats and dog scurried underfoot, snatching crumbs and making new friends.

The cherry bowl dwindled. Twilight descended. The hydrangea flower centerpiece was lit by the glow of citronella.

Entertaining provides this great opportunity to smile and take stock, to say, yeah, we're happy, we're doin' alright. It's a perfect little social snapshot, an attempt at creating a pocket of memory. Here, tonight, this milky June twilight, these hydrangeas, this bowl of black cherries, this circle of friends, this is what is worth remembering. This is where it's at. This is love.

Things I did this week

1. I picked peas every day.

2. I scheduled a home inspection.
3. I made two pans of Cashew Butterscotch bars for a big crazy gathering of folks this weekend.
4. I dumped half a container of bean salad on my foot, swore loudly, and spent an hour sulking.

5. I cut into Anna Maria Horner voile, and started making a dress.

6. I wrote two articles, and made headway on a third.

7, I devised a menu for my friend's baby shower in two weeks, which I am catering.

8. I killed no less than two dozen houseflies.

9. I refrained from eating ice cream every day.

10. I announced a giveaway, which you still have time to enter!

Have a happy weekend, everyone!

Announcement, and a giveaway!

Well, it never rains, it pours. This season has brought us many good things, along with our new house. I am pleased to announce that I've landed myself a spiffy little writing gig. So far, I've written articles on things like growing sprouts, making aprons, and shopping at the farmer's market, for an excellent little sustainability-minded site called Grow and Make. If this sounds like it's right up my alley, well, that would be the understatement of the century.

This means several things. One, in addition to wife, daughter, caretaker, barista, gardener, seamstress, and chef, I am also contributing editor. I quite like the sound of that one. Three jobs, though, goodness. How did that happen?

Thirdly, we are looking for contributors. Next week we're going to launch a sort of Sustainability Show and Tell series-- like the Design*Sponge before + after posts, only green. Anything from refashioning clothing to making stock to reupholstering a couch-- it's all fair game, as long as you've got pictures. If you'd like to be featured on Grow and Make, and get a cute little button for your blog, let me know at adiantumpedatum (at) yahoo (dot) com.

The real point of this post (now that I'm finally getting to it...) is a giveaway. It seems only right to host one in celebration of things--houses and dreams and new directions--and for you all. You've been out there-- some since the very beginning--commenting and cheering me on even in those days of single-digit hit counts and three followers. Your comments make my day like nothing else. You rock my socks! And so, this is for you.

The apron I am wearing in the picture is one I made for a Grow and Make article last week. It's refashioned from a button-down shirt. If you'd like to win it, leave a comment on this post before midnight, Monday, June 28th.