Scrappy

Dawn this day was ushered in by a most clamorous thunderstorm will full accompaniment of rain. I was pleased to see the rain but my pleasure for my garden slightly soured after a trip to the gas station.

"May I have fifteen dollars of gas on pump number four?" I ask, pulling a twenty from my pocketbook.

"Pump four?" the attendant asks. I nod and half turn, pointing out the window at my car.

"Yes sir, the silver Saturn." I said with a smile. I love my Orchid. She's a tough old gal, seen many miles between Illinois, Kentucky and Tennessee. She's seen me through Knoxville down toward Asheville, to Atlanta and back through Chattanooga. So imagine my shock and no small amount of anger when the man behind me in line chimes in.

"That silver Saturn was your first mistake, sweetheart."

Bristling hotly I marched out of the Marathon, barely smoldering a look that could curdle milk. No, Orchid is hardly new. She is a 1997, seen hard use but still gives it her all on every trip to work, grocery store, home town or festival. She's not my baby, she is my partner. She has never been nor never will be a mistake.

Yes, my car is scrappy. She's seen her youth come and go, is a little duller around the edges of her silver coat and could use some work. However this car has seen me safely to work and back from the Peach state. She has kept me dry in rainfall, warm in winter and cool in summer. She provides comfort and safety. In short, she is amazing and no one has the right to criticize her.

Here in the Heart of Home we thrive on scrape. Little ends of fabric are collected for future quilting projects, ever last bit of our dried herbs are packaged away for seasoning powder, jelly and pickle jars are washed and peeled of their labels to be reused for homemade spreads. We do with what we have, buying only when we truly must the majority of the time. We are putting aside money for a life not yet achieved but longed for. Not yet secured but sought after with a sweet desire. This is not a life of luxury. We do not sip 1888 Chardonnay from crystal goblets; most of the Clan is happy to nab a frosted mason jar from the deep freezer and pour themselves sweet tea. This is a life of many everyday pleasures cleverly quilted into the frame of work. We don't mind a little mud on our boots, a little pain in our step or the odd grey hair. it is all part of our journey toward our homestead. It isn't fancy, it isn't easy, it isn't fashionable. It is hard, rough, wearisome, wonderful, beautiful and enduring.

It is also scrappy and thus, it is the way this journey was meant to begin. We have no illusions of grandeur here. Only the simple knowledge that a beautiful life is one well worked. Cosmetic finery will ever pale before ethic and competence here.

Yes, scrappy will do fine.

Just another ordinary miracle today

There is such a great beauty in the simple roundness of kabocha squash, also known as the Japanese pumpkin. The larger two in this photo are the oldest in the bed but all the squash will remain on the vine until the fall. This way they will sweeten considerable and the kabocha's thick rind protects it from dropping temperatures. It is a very hardy winter squash. The entire clan has been pleased by their aggressive growth and a quiet pride glows in my heart to see the squash flourishing.

As we near Independence Day, I make several plans for the holiday. One is to break ground on the winter garden, harvest a small load of herbs from the summer garden to dry for herb pillows, make a quart or more of North Meets South: our maple syrup and brown sugar ice cream, and smoke half a bacon wrapped turkey smothered in bbq sauce. More about the turkey is to come, later in the week.

For now, my lovelies, I shall close. I am tucking in early with a blanket and another episode of Ken Burn's  documentary "The Civil War." It is enough, after a long work day, to be surrounded by ordinary miracles. These are the moments when blessings abound.

The charm of 1884; Welcome to Badlands

My costume attempt, complete with cameo at the throat, of the well to do farm wife of 1884.

Long have I been fascinated by the life of women between 1776 and 1890. I often tell people that I was born in the wrong time, about 100 years too late. 1884 would have been a good alternative birth year for me and I would have hoped to be named "Anne". This red plaid shirt is actually the first of many pieces that will go toward my Badlands character outfit. World of Hashonen: Badlands is a Weird West Larp run by my friends Buddy and Melissa Landreth.

Colin and I will be running their saloon when the game starts, providing historically accurate food and drink to enhance character immersion. It is important we bring the true face of the West to our players. Creating a picture that looks almost like a tintype from the Civil War era shows just a little of how excited I am for this game. Badlands opens for play in August of 2015. Clink the link below for more information about the setting and check our the calender for future event dates.

World of Hashonen: A Heroic Interactive Theater Chapter

Here is also a link directly for the Message Forum. http://hashonen.com/forums/index.php

I may as well try and catch the wind

Glen Campbell's words ring so true in the humidity and echoes of this hazy summer evening. I reach for understanding and mutual respect. What I feel instead of a firm and equal hand shake is more of a fierce burst of northerly gale.

Without poetry or apology, I am putting in my two week's notice in with my current job. It is time to move on and I have delayed. No longer will I do so. I will put it in on Tuesday, which will be my one year to the date day.

I look toward the things the house needs and a part time position that will still bring cash flown into the household. More time with my daughter eases the pang of disappointment settling in my gut. This isn't a story full of rainbows, kittens and endless sunny days. Sometimes the rain must come.

Even so, I will cherish this rain.

Even as there is rain, there is a ray or two of sunlight.

When I was in Georgia this last weekend for Father's Day I got to see my nephew Eli and my niece, Addilyn Rae.  These was my sister Kim's children and I love them so much my heart aches. The warmth that fills my heart when I see these children, who are just some of the Hood family bloodline, is enough to sooth most emotional hurt.

More to come in the Heart of Home. Stay tuned as we get back to squash gardening and show you a great way to use squash blossom. Yes, another Heart of Home recipe is in tehe works. Hint: This one will require dry active yeast. 

Solace in the miles

It's been  a while since I have really sat down and committed to a post. I have spent some time lost in the concrete jungle, dealing with some of the less pleasant adult duties. Such as paying a speeding ticket, paying bills, navigating toward patience and empathy in the face of chronic illness.  The Clan soldiers on, though fog and fen, each in a way true to their own. I find solace in the garden, watching the squash turn dark green. The broccoli is flourishing and the lavender fills the warm air with the promise of herb pillows to come. Soap but that will be farther down the line, then candles once the bees get here.

Solace is found when we find haven, which could be as simple as a garden full of herbs, a few stitches of thick wool yard in your favorite color or in the heft of a ripening squash.  Such is my haven, home grown and clan sown. Tomorrow the Clan goes forth to review a likely track of land that could be our homestead. The thought makes me as nervous as bride as the veil lifts; so much riding on a promise make long go. Just as the work, I will slide that trepidation onto my shoulders and walk on.

There are miles to go.... miles on my heart.

The pride of the land

Who wouldn't be proud with a bowl full of home grown, organic mustard greens, Brussels sprouts and Swiss chard?

The abundant sun, humidity and weekly ran have been a godsend. In combination with good organic fertilizer and daily cultivation, this little garden patch has been turning over some major green. Brussels sprout leaves, mustard greens, and Swiss chard are the major greens and all the herbs are coming along nicely. The lavender, thyme and basil have bloomed. It looks like a scatter of stars out there, with white, blue and purple flowers. The acorn squash will not be shown up however and the trio are throwing beautiful orange blossoms. Everything is flourishing and the clan couldn't be happier.

I couldn't be more proud and if I smiled any harder, I think my face would explode.

Or I might cry.