Quiet moments...

We kept the grand cats last weekend and were easily humored watching them do nothing much at all. 

On Tuesday, the day the cats left we enjoyed the company of out-of-state cousins visiting until the wee hours of the next morning.  After the cats and cousins left (separately, in two different directions) I was inspired to do some spring cleaning of the sunroom - vacuuming up cobwebs and cat hair.

And set up a spot to enjoy cross stitching and a view of the outdoors.

I'm going to make it a (loose) goal to spend some time out here stitching or doing something creative every day I can this spring -  when it is nice enough to do so.  With the sun shining in the windows, it's comfy out here once it's in the high 50's outside.  And I suppose a space heater might heat up this corner when it's cooler than that. 

And in a week or so, this Bradford Pear (below with the small white blossoms) will be a sight to behold when I want to sit back and take a stretch from stitching.

I'm feeling very thankful for spring, 

and for a pretty spot to experience it again.

How is spring looking where you're at?

Trimming and pruning...

We're seeing a lot more of middle son since he took a job nearer to us last autumn.  A few times a month he spends a night here and we're enjoying seeing him more.  When weather has allowed, he has seemed to enjoy helping with some outside work.  And we are grateful for his help.

Yesterday he pruned our cherry tree and our peach tree.  I used several youtube video tutorials to help me guide him where to cut.

I'm guessing these trees hadn't been trimmed properly in at least a couple of years (we didn't prune last spring, I know that much).  I'm not saying we pruned them properly yesterday, but we've tried to get the growth lower so fruit will be at a pickable height.  It will be interesting to see if our mild winter has an effect on how (or if) these fruit trees produce fruit.  

The old dying tree (below) has been taken down over the course of several of son's visits due to not having quite as big of a chain saw as he needed.

Sometime this winter:

Yesterday:

Until a bigger chain saw can be had, we're left with this:

I spent about a minute toying with the idea of using this as a spot for a planter (or planters).  The thing is, it would be pretty inconvenient.  It's behind a separate garage and would require dragging a hose back more often than I'd care to in order to keep planters adequately watered.  On the other hand, once we get a garden going, we'll probably have a garden hose strung across the yard for most of the summer, and it would be a fairly simple job to unscrew the sprinkler from the hose.  Knowing me, I'll probably do nothing, but watch this spot in case I come up with something clever.  Feel free to share any ideas you might have.

And behind the garage is this scene:

I'm trying to make leaf mold in the pallet "bin" on the left.  All the stacked wood will make some nice fires in the firepit this spring, and next fall.  And lastly, there is a plastic compost bin the previous owners left.  I'm not crazy about it, because it's impossible to turn what is inside.  It's bottomless, though, so I can pick it up and move it and that allows for some compost to be turned, but then it's just an open pile.  Maybe I just don't understand how these types of bins are supposed to work, but I consider it a pretty inconvenient way to compost.  On the other hand, once we're harvesting from the garden and creating a fair amount of vegetable waste, it's nice to have a place to put the waste where it stands some kind of chance to decompose.

After a draggy-kind of winter, it feels like there's suddenly lots going on here.   PT is going well, knee is slowly improving, but improving nonetheless!   A unplanned doctor's visit (for yet another thing) needed to be scheduled for the day after tomorrow.  Hopefully, it's nothing of serious concern, and I can soon put it out of my mind.  Seeds are begging to be planted, and I'm chomping at the bit to feel like doing it.  The spirit is willing; the knee, and I think my hand needs just need a bit more healing.  I'm hoping and praying that everything comes together at the right time.  And if it doesn't, that I'm content with what can be done.

Happy Spring!

~~~~~

When I hurts, I cries. Or at least I want to...

 This has become too common a sight in the last week:

I think I mentioned (probably early) last year that I injured my knee in our move in 2021.  It has flared up from time to time since, but I thought it was basically healed when a couple of weeks ago, after months of being good, it flared up again.  It wasn't too bad last week, but since the weekend, it went from annoying to agonizing.

I saw a nurse practitioner in my GP's office on Wednesday and was asked to rate my pain on a scale from 1-10.  I hate being asked this question.  Pain is subjective, and describing it is too.  

Having seen graphics of how to rate pain - where the smiling face has morphed over several pain levels to a crying face, I said, "Well... I want to cry, but I don't - for the most part".  I thought (still do) think it was fair to rate my pain around 8-9, depending on what I'm doing.  He seemed surprised - I suppose since I was sitting there fairly peacefully and almost happy (having a hope of relief will do that to a person).  That, and... this seems to often happen to me:   I suffer and suffer at home, but when I finally get up the nerve to call the doctor and there I sit in their exam room, I start wondering where the discomfort went and why I am there.  

Anyway, when I commented on disliking the pain scale question because of how subjective it is, he agreed with me.  He told me he doesn't ever judge a patient's description of their level of pain.  In the end, I don't know if I have a high pain threshold in that I could let something get to 8 or 9 before calling a doctor, or a low pain threshold for assigning those numbers while I'm still conscious.

Amazingly, I was able to get an appointment at the orthopedics office for Friday.  That's today.  Heading there shortly for x-rays and a consultation. 

Here is how I process these things:  

I'm feeling discouraged that a part of me is hurting badly enough to call a doctor.  Again.  But thankful that a doctor was available so soon.  I'm also expectant that he is able to diagnose and provide me some relief soon.  I'm thankful to live in a time and place where our owies are so often fixable.  When I'm not feeling well, I think about people who lived even just a hundred years ago and probably suffered through what today is easily (if expensively) fixed.  I also think of people who still today live places where they don't have the kinds of resources we have to heal their maladies.  And people here who, for various reasons don't have resources, or don't know about their resources to get help for their fragile, hurting bodies.

I'm keeping the thoughts above forefront as I anxiously anticipate another round of doctor visits, imaging tests, whatever solution is decided upon, then healing which probably includes physical therapy - which is a pretty serious drag.  After last year, that held two surgeries, and still recovering from one, it unnerves me to think about entering the process of treating something painful again.  But hope and thankfulness need to overcome my anxiousness.  Prayers to that end are so appreciated.  I may not get all my answers today, but I'll surely be back with hopeful news, and a plan for moving forward.

~~~~~~

Waiting in the wings...

I've started a gentle getting back to cross stitching, but I also go long stretches forgetting about it. 

The stitching is upside down and what is shown is the back - because that's how I try to store this so dust doesn't fall on the front side.  I had set this aside in our "office" room for I don't know... a couple weeks?  Forgotten and neglected.  When I saw the morning light falling across it through the semi-closed blinds I thought the effect was kind of "atmospheric", as Linda (a fellow needle worker) mentioned one time regarding another photo I posted, so I decided to snap a picture.

The tabletop stitching stand that I bought a few years ago when my hands started hurting is very helpful as my left hand continues to heal from CMC surgery I had five months ago.

O-dark-thirty...

I was awakened this morning by the sound of silence.  

Forgive me, Mr. Simon.  I'm not plagiarizing.  I really did think of it myself this morning.  Before I remembered that you penned the phrase.

For years we have slept with the white noise of a fan in the bedroom.  I have a terrible time sleeping without it. I don't remember when we started the practice, but at this point it helps to mask the tinnitus I've had for more than a decade now. 

At 4:00 a.m. I suddenly woke up.  To silence.  Except for the low level screechy locust-y sound that is my constant companion when there's nothing loud enough to cover it.

In the silence, I instantly knew that the power had gone out.  I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but after a while I gave up.  Middle son spent the night here (as he does sometimes when he commutes from his northern home down to Indy for his once-a-week in-person work day).  And I knew he would be surprised to wake up a few hours later to darkness he couldn't banish with the flick of a switch.  Not that he couldn't figure that out well enough, but when he found out we didn't have running water, I wanted him to know where to find stored water I've collected for just this occasion.  Having a well is great when we consider we don't receive a monthly water bill, but today, for the first time since moving here, we experienced the downside.  Without a battery back-up to the well pump, we have no source of running water 'till the electricity is restored.

So in addition to finding it hard to sleep to the sound of silence, I didn't want to leave my son stranded in the morning not knowing we had a back-up plan to having no running water, nevermind that the plan is only slightly better than the plumbing possibly his great, likely his great great, and most surely his great great great grandparents had in their childhoods, and possibly into adulthood.   At least he didn't have to go outside and pump his wash water into a bucket.  Or use an outhouse.

To pass the time I thought I'd check email on my phone.  At which point I was reminded my older phone has a tired battery that doesn't keep its charge for long.  Then I decided to try to sleep in a recliner, so I set my phone's alarm to hopefully wake me up a little earlier than I thought my son would.  

But I still couldn't sleep.  

Looking out the windows I could see stars like I'd not seen them in ages, and I realized it's the first time I've seen it this dark out here - just a few miles away from town because all the neighbors' security lights were snuffed out.  If it wasn't windy, a bit chilly, and a tad spooky, I might have gone out back and soaked in the last of the star display from the patio, but I decided to be content to take it in from the relative warmth of the inside. 

Finally, sometime between 5:30 and 6:00 (I think) it started being early morning, instead of middle of the night.  Our house faces pretty directly west, and the den windows at the back of the house face east.  I stood at the den windows for a while looking out at the still eerily dark back yard and I noticed an occasional light off in the distance flick right and then left.  After focusing on it a bit I realized I was seeing the headlights of vehicles traveling northerly and southerly on the state highway.  Looking at a map, I can see the distance I was viewing from (as the crow flies) is about 2 - 2 1/2 miles.  And I could only see these streaks of light in the breaks between the trees, and only because there were no leaves on any trees.   I'm not sure what time I started noticing them, but I know by around 6:30 while there were surely even more cars traveling on the highway, the sky had started to lighten just a bit on the horizon to the point I couldn't see the streaks of the car headlights anymore. 

It wasn't anywhere close to sunrise when the eastern sky started changing from a solid dark color (was it blue? was it black? I don't remember) to a light gray on the horizon.  A good half hour before I could see the first glow of the sun, I could see the day dawning.  At 6:45 I heard the sound of the school bus that makes a stop at the corner by our house.  Having nothing better to do (and feeling a bit Mrs. Kravitz-ish), I went to the front door to watch.  I could only see one car from this angle, and one little boy - 1st, 2nd grade, maybe 3rd  grade age left the warmth of his parent's car and with his backpack about a third as big as himself wave at the bus driver as he waited for the bus to stop.  Then he ran across to the other side to get on the bus.  While I don't catch this sight often, it isn't the first time.  And it isn't the first time I've had the thought that o-dark-thirty seems awfully early for little ones to have to skip onto a bus and start their journey to school.    

Ah well...  as each minute passed, the sky brightening more, before I knew it the gray dawn had given way to an amber-colored sun rise.  And once again I was witness to a glorious new morning from what still feels a bit like our "new" home.  Birds were chirping like it's spring (because, as far as they're concerned it probably is) and somehow after seeing the sunrise, I forgot how few hours I actually slept last night.

Son woke up, took not having running water in stride, and got himself cleaned up and ready to leave for work.  I wish I could go with the flow so easily.  

And by 11:00 a.m. the power suddenly came back on.  Only seven hours later.  A power outage in February is one more reason we've been thankful for this unseasonably warm winter we're having.  It was 66 degrees today!

And March happens next week already!   

~~~~~

Redbud tree...

I've noticed that the redbud tree outside the den window has looked worse for wear all winter.  

For the longest time I thought all those raggedy things in the tree were dead leaves, but I hadn't even bothered to walk up to it until a week or so ago when I could clearly see they are seed pods. 

Hundreds and hundreds of seed pods. I didn't recall seeing these in the tree last winter, so I went looking for some photos I took then when I was snapping lots of pictures of birds on the bird feeders - pictures in which this redbud tree was in the background.  

I found this close up of some birds in the tree where there are clearly just a few seed pods hanging last winter:

Photo from January, 2022

So I'm remembering correctly that there weren't anything like the number of seed pods I'm seeing this year.  Makes me wonder why there's such a difference.  Now, I recall that this tree took a bit of a scorching on a couple of limbs when Hubs lit a too-large fire once in the firepit this past summer.  I wonder if this year's prolific seed pod production is due to some stress from that and the tree sensed that it needed to pull out all the stops in its attempt to reproduce itself.

Guess we'll have to go through several cycles to see what is normal for this tree.  

And I may need to keep the matches away from Hubs.  

As if that is possible.

Let's sharpen up why don't we...

Trying to cut a neat slit in bread baked earlier this week I realized my kitchen knives were in need of sharpening. 

So I pulled them all out (except for any serrated knives) and I did the deed.   My knife sharpener is an inexpensive, foldable little gadget, but it does make a difference. 

You can't tell they're sharper from the picture, but I'm going to be a happier cook for a while now.

I have this memory of watching my dad sharpen kitchen knives on an electric bench grinder and sander in the garage (a heavy duty thing screwed into the workbench).  It both amazed and terrified me as a kid.  

I'm curious...  How do others of you sharpen your knives?

The heat wave continues...

Today it was sunny and warm, so mid afternoon I asked Hub if he wanted to do something.  Go somewhere.  He replied in the affirmative and we ended up checking out a local salvage store, that while we have donated stuff there, I had yet to venture into.

What a cool place.  I look forward to getting back there at some point to see how much and how often their inventory changes.  Today I  bought a milkglass luncheon plate to use as a paint palette.  I was looking for something white and almost bought a plain stoneware dinner plate, which would have probably been a bit more practical for mixing watercolors on, but when I held it next to this sweet plate:

well...  the choice was obvious.

Then we stopped in next door for some ice cream.  Fellow retired homeschoolers own and run a candy/ice cream shop in town.  It was at this point it finally occurred to me to try to take some pictures - you know... for my Daily Life Photo Challenge.

At 66 degrees, sitting in the sun, we were over-dressed with a light jacket and light sweater eating ice cream outside on the 15th of February.  Middle son's 31st birthday is today.  We'll hopefully celebrate together in a week and a half, but today we had ice cream in his honor.

  

We could have used some umbrellas for shade today.

Then before heading home, Hub drove us past a local yarn store (that I also hadn't been into, though it opened last September).  It's owned by a lady from our church and we enjoyed a good chat.  While sock knitting is on hold, I have not given up on the idea, so I bought some sock yarn and had it wound up.  

A pretty blue (a little darker than the picture) 

with purple fibers throughout. 

Tomorrow is forecasted to be stormy, and temps will drop into the 30's for Friday.  But then it looks like we'll go back to above normal temps for the next couple of weeks.  While I hope none of the new growth I'm seeing outside gets nipped by frost over the upcoming weeks, I'll not complain about days as beautiful as today.  If we can have an early and long spring I'll be super happy.

~~~~~

I'm pretty sure it's too soon for this...

Last week I noticed from the den window that the daily lilies were poking through the ground:

Today we're only half way through February!  Curious, I decided to walk around the yard and see what else might be bursting forth.

I found the stone crop was already growing:

And the bearded irises were putting out leaves:

With rain tonight and again on Thursday, and temps in the 50's until Thursday, when it's supposed to rain again with highs in the low 60's, I'm just hoping all these things survive 'till spring.

Edited to add a picture of daffodils also growing.  I loved seeing these flowering last spring.  Note to self:  plant more next fall.

At least the asparagus isn't popping up out of the ground.  I think I've read the soil temperature needs to be around 50 degrees before asparagus appears.   Last year that happened in early April.  Something tells me to expect it earlier this spring. 

~~~~~

No Knead Artisan Bread...

I was inspired by this Rain's Kitchen and Garden post to try out her recipe for Overnight No-Knead Bread.  Video tutorial here, and the written recipe here.

I prepared the dough Sunday evening, and baked it today.

A few things I did different:  I replaced a half cup of unbleached all-purpose flour with a half cup hard whole wheat flour.  And I baked my loaf in a stoneware casserole dish and used a parchment paper liner, rather than grease my baking dish.  

My stoneware baking dishes are some that Pampered Chef used to sell that my mother-in-law gave me many years ago.  While stoneware is very heavy, I have found it great for baking round loaves of bread in.  But if I didn't have it, I'd definitely use a dish like Rain does.  Rain's round loaf rose higher, and it looks beautiful.

My crusty and delicious artisan bread fresh out of the oven:

Nevermind the burned places.  They add flavor.   

And my makeshift "dutch oven", if you will:

Cooking with unglazed stoneware results in permanent staining like this.  It's not pretty, but I wanted to show what I use in case it's helpful to anyone else.

And the inside:

Having seen Rain's baking dish, and looking at this picture, I'm suddenly thinking I might try baking a loaf with this large piece on the bottom. It would sure be easier to handle than the way I do it..

~~~~~

Saturday morning...

I don't drink coffee very often, but sometimes a moment (or day) just begs for it.   Like...

...when I make a special breakfast

...when I have to function on very little sleep

...when a few-days-old zucchini bread is calling...

~~~~~

 

Chili and cornbread...

Dinner out with friends last night was a nice break from our "routine" - such as it is.   Today it was back in the kitchen to make Chili and Cornbread.

   
It's the first time I've baked cornbread in a cast iron skillet, and wow!  It bakes nicely, and clean-up was a breeze.   

Since eggs have been so expensive, I've been experimenting with egg substitutes and I have found success in a couple of baked items lately using 1 tsp of baking soda mixed with 1 Tablespoon of distilled white vinegar (substituted for one egg).  I cut the salt out of the cornbread recipe because I was afraid of this being too salty, and it worked out fine.

Actually, Hub said it was the best cornbread I've made.  I confess, I normally make cornbread from a box mix and it's hit or miss as to how well that holds together, so I'd better cut the recipe off the bag of the Pearl Milling Company yellow cornmeal I presently have in the pantry and save it for future reference.  Though I suppose I should record that I used buttermilk instead of milk (because I had some that needed to be used) and added some plain Greek yogurt (maybe 1/4 cup, I didn't measure).  Hmmm...  I wonder if it would have tasted as good without those things.  I'll probably find out some day.  I almost never have buttermilk hanging around for one thing, and I don't know that I would have thought of the yogurt if I hadn't been looking at another recipe that called for that.

Chili was made using a Taste of Home seasoning mix recipe I clipped from their magazine many years ago.  Here's a link in case you're interested.  In spite of it being called Spicy Chili Seasoning Mix, the chili is only as spicy as you make it - depending on how much seasoning you mix in. 

The chili used up three quart jars of tomatoes I canned last summer, 2 gallon size bags of frozen tomatoes, and several cuts of beef that I was glad to use from the freezer.    Edited  the next day to note:  I made so much chili we made two meals of it and had enough to share a couple servings each with one son and one single friend, and still freeze four servings for eating later.  While I way over-made it this time, it always feels good to share.

I have it as a goal to not do any grocery shopping during February.  Well... except for maybe milk, eggs or fresh produce.  I think everything else I either have plenty of, or we can do without for a few more weeks.

~~~~~~

A sweet treat...

Yesterday I found three good sized zucchini in the fridge I was coming close to forgetting about.  I sautéed slices of one for yesterday's lunch and I made a mental note to make zucchini bread today from the other two.

 

Considering I spent all day thinking today was Monday (when it was actually Tuesday), I'm so glad I didn't forget the plan to make these.  Mmmmmmm...

Magic beans...

Last week I jumped into Mindful Art Studio's  Slow Drawing Patterns challenge with a sharpie pen, small pieces of watercolor paper, and a simple little child's paint palette.  I'm using this palette because I was too impatient to go looking for a larger set  of tubed  watercolor paints I bought once upon a time.  Most of my art supplies are leftovers from when our boys were young.  It has taken me too long to start playing with them all by myself!  

Turns out I'm glad I'm using these paints as it's interesting to see what colors I can make with such a limited palette.   Every Wednesday a drawing prompt is given, with some basic instructions to let the pen go where it take you (or something like that), and participants are told to interpret the prompt and their own drawings however they like.

The shape is described by the instructing artist as "Peguin" so penguins are, of course, the first place my very literal brain wants to go.  But the shape below looked more like a bean, so I drew some cartoony vines and tendrils to go with it.  I'm no artist, so imagine how happy I was to make what appear to be the beans inside a dried up pod.  You may see something else, or nothing at all, but my interpretation of this picture is a dried up bean pod hanging onto its shriveling plant in late October.

The impression of  beans was made by using a clean wet brush to lift off some of the green/yellow/brown paint.  I just moved the brush on its side in a circular fashion as I pressed into the paint, then lifted the brush while still moving it round, and like magic, that created the edges of bean bumps and some lightening of the color in such a way that the bean shape looks kind of dimensional.  No one else may be impressed, but I couldn't have done better if I'd tried to actually paint something that looked beans.

That's it for today!  Just something fun I'm up to recently so it's game for a "Daily Life Photo".  

Thanks for popping in!

Sunday morning sound duty...

Yesterday Linda commented that the black and white picture looks atmospheric.  Liking the sound of that, but not really understanding what that meant, I looked it up. 

_____________

Dictionary

Definitions from Oxford Languages 

at·mos·pher·ic

/ˌatməsˈfirik/

Learn to pronounce

adjective

1. 1.

   relating to the atmosphere of the earth or (occasionally) another planet.

   "atmospheric conditions such as fog, snow, rain"
2. 2.

   creating a distinctive mood, typically of romance, mystery, or nostalgia.

   "atmospheric lighting"

----------------

Yes!  The second definition is what she was referring to.  The black and white photos definitely give (me, anyway) a sense of nostalgia.   As if these pictures are from a time in the past.  

So now I'm wondering...  Do we simply feel nostalgic when when see a modern photo in black and white because it reminds us of an early time?  

Or...   How much is the quality (or other characteristics) of modern-day picture changed when the same picture is shown in black and white?

Your thoughts are welcome.  I think I'll be looking into this more...