Figs with the Blue Moon

The children and I picked figs today at a friend's house.  Their sticky juice was hard to scrub off, much like pine tar!

And we ate a few as we picked and were surprised at how tasteless they were - pretty as all get out, but not much flavor or sweetness.

 

So I'm not sure that I'm inspired to do much with them.  I thought I had eaten tasty fresh figs before, but maybe I was only recalling dried ones (or Fig Newtons!).  Any suggestions?

I Had Forgotten

I read Sarah's post, and suddenly I remembered what I used to do when I lived at home yet:  I poked in all corners of the house to find things to set the table with when I wanted it to be special.  I would find little vases or scraps in Mom's craft jumble or the basket that held the fruit, and I would marry it all together into a tablescape that pleased me.  My family was amused, but I think I was the only one who thought the table looked great.

But the thing I want to recall is that I was deeply, joyously immersed in the creative process, in the limits of using what was in the house or clipped from the back yard.  Furthermore, the things I was using weren't even necessarily to my taste.  I had forgotten how fun that process was.

Scrap of fabric to brighten things up, electrical thingy to hold cards.  Yes!

I also remembered how my mom and Aunt Esther would volunteer as the window decorators for a local thrift store.  They would go in there once a month and cull things from the store to display in the front shop window.  The window always looked so inviting and smart - I wonder if they ever took any pictures of their ingenuity?

 

The lesson here is an echo of what Sarah said:  that we can find joy outside of shopping, that the thrill of the hunt doesn't need to end with a purchase. 

 

I am re-inspired, just in time for the fall freshening-up urge.  What about you?

The Tide Turns

Up until this point in our parenting career, I felt the children's presence continually (my husband could turn it off sometimes) or we arranged childcare occasionally.  It was not always pleasant to have responsibility for all their needs, you know? 

But I am suddenly nostalgic, because today my universe shifted.  Now, for two days a week, both our children will be away for 6 hours at school. 

Now the children are receding away from us, it seems, out into the bigger ocean where we can't always see them or hear what they say or catch them before they hurt themselves.

It's very weird.  I didn't cry, but I feel strange and clingy.

My husband and I ate two meals alone today:  lunch while the children were at school, and then dinner out to celebrate our anniversary.  A milestone day in more than one way.

 

More specifically, Ben adores preschool and riding the bus.  Genevieve is not enthusiastic, but so far there are no tears. 

A Simple Solution for Jalapeno Lung

 

I was canning hot pepper marmalade and pickling some jalapenos a friend deposited in our car, sort of like zucchini this time of year.  I was wearing gloves, sure, but as soon as I cut into a jalapeno, I started to cough from the fumes.  They were strong.  In desperation, I grabbed a scarf and tied it over my nose and mouth, bandit-style.  It worked!  It worked great!  No need to bother my husband to dig around in his stuff to find a respirator-thingy.

And I learned something about canners in this canning session as well.  I was using half-pint jars and expected a yield of only12 jars, so I decided to try my cute 70s pot with a trivet in the bottom instead of my big enamelware canner.  I got this idea from Marisa's new book - she doesn't even own a big canner.

Well.  The ding-dang jars bobbed around and fell over in my cute pot before I could set them all in.  My big canner has a rack that holds jars firmly.  I burned my fingers trying hastily to fix everything into my cute pot; there was cussing, but the children were outside.

My husband walked through the kitchen as this was going on, and flew for the camera to take a picture of me.  Then he very nicely ran down to the basement to fetch my jar lifter which I had forgotten (hence the burned fingers).

Fortunately, everything sealed and is now safely tucked away.  Six half-pints of hot pepper marmalade to eat with bagels and cream cheese or scrambled eggs, and 7 half-pints of pickled jalapenos. 

My Next Handwork: Chicken Scratch

We were at a family reunion last weekend, and my husband's Aunt Carol had the neatest tablecloth.  It was a large square of gingham, with cross-stitch Xs making a star pattern and border on it.  Carol used dark floss on the white squares, and white floss on the dark squares. 

The dark splotches are water.  Should have taken a close up photo, too.

I knew already that this kind of embroidery using gingham is called "chicken scratch" and I even have an apron embroidered with it.  But I loved her tablecloth for its utility and homey look.  I associated chicken scratch with aprons, and I just don't wear aprons often, even though I love their design and milieu.

I suddenly realized that this tablecloth will be my next big handwork project.  It's fairly mindless once I find the middle and establish my pattern, the materials are easy to come by, and the end result is definitely something I will use.

Stuffed Peppers I Love

I'm not fond of those baked stuffed peppers where the peppers get sort of mushy and slimy and weird; in the past, I tried to improve their texture by using higher heat and oiling the outside of the peppers.  The results were not worth repeating, although I can't exactly recall the actual results.

Well, I got a much better idea from Kate at Motley Mama.  I grilled the pepper halves first, lightly oiled and salted.  Then I stuffed them with a quinoa, garlic, tapenade, feta mixture I made up, and popped them back on the still-hot grill to coalesce. 

They were delicious!  And easy!  However, my filling was too crumbly - it needed more cheese to hold it together.  I wonder what leftover macaroni and cheese, mixed with a few chopped tomatoes, would be like as a filling for these?  I need to tell you about our crockpot mac and cheese that we've been eating frequently for lunch this summer!

Anyway, I served the peppers with hummus, crackers, and cucumbers.  A lovely summer supper.

The Use-What's-On-Hand Lunch Pails

The lunch pails are done.  And the only thing I purchased to make them was the pattern and piping cord.  I could feel stubbornness rising up in me as I contemplated everything I "should" buy to get my kids started off in school.  How do retailers turn every event, every feeling, every breath, into a reason to buy something?  They are geniuses.

I wanted to use dark colors for the pails because I'm not sure how washable they are (I used an old vinyl tablecloth for the inside, not oilcloth as LiEr prefers; this is the red-striped tablecloth that I used to put under the children's highchair - let's pause and contemplate the rapidity of childhood and the nostalgic touchstones that pop up).

So.  I had blue, orange and brown twill to work with.  I scoured my stash for prints that looked fun and reflected my kids' personalities, but were not too juvenile - what if these pails actually last a few years?  Plus, Genevieve wanted to help choose the fabrics for hers.

 

I had ribbon to use for Ben's drawstring, but nothing sturdy enough that looked good with Genevieve's pail.  So I made tubes and topstitched them (she requested one of each fabric which I think is a lighthearted touch).  I have done this before for pencil rolls with excellent results and many more options than my ribbon stash.

And following LiEr's excellent, clear pattern, I successfully sewed piping!  Behold.

It required the zipper foot, but nothing too taxing.

On the whole, these pails went together quickly.  LiEr included nice touches like pressing templates (which I skipped and it's obvious if you know where to look) and explanations for techniques.  I like that.  I feel like I was taught by LiEr's pattern, a new experience for me since I've only used commercial patterns before.

I'm afraid these pails leaned more towards the Grandma Weaver side of my sewing, however, because school was breathing down my neck. 

Seams don't match so I hid it under the strap; the world is still extant.

 

But they are done, and the children love them. Next I want to show you Ben's first-day-of-school shirt.