bee creative

Sunday field notes: what "enough" might look like

 

Rainy, windy, sunny. Plants are leafing out and popping up out of the soil. 

There are four blossoms on the tree peony.  I've yet to have one of them bloom after about 10 years, usually they rot and fall off.  After it blooms, or not, I will move it to a different location this spring. 

I noticed the sparrows in my garden like to run under the bushes, stay under cover. 

Finished reading Selfish, Shallow, and Self Absorbed, Sixteen Writers on the Decision not to have Children, edited by Meghan Daum.

There is a comprehensive description of the book here (Brain Pickings) so all I'm going to say is that it left me considering a lot of things, about myself and the larger world.

And that is one of my requirements for a good book. 

One of my favorite quotes:

“There is no life without regrets. Every important choice has its benefits and its deficits, whether or not people admit it or even recognize the fact...It is true, and should be recognized, that women can be fulfilled with or without children, that you can most definitely have enough without having everything.” Jeanne Safer

Other things I did...

Made some pillow cases with scraps left over from another project.

Played with a spiralizer to make sweet potato noodles. 

Tried this recipe for Chickpea and Sweet Potato Noodle soup. 

I cut back on the spices some and shouldn't have.

I love using the spiralizer and am going to experiment more with making vegetable "noodles."

Hmm...potluck coming up on Friday, maybe a "noodle" salad of some sort? 

Made lemon curd and yogurt. 

Discovered that putting Greek/strained yogurt in a mixer with a whisk attachment will recreate the texture of a oh-so-dreamy yogurt that I shouldn't have tried one morning but did anyway when I needed breakfast at the grocery store in a hurry. 

Stitched together hexagons for the bee keeper's quilt I've started. 

My goal is to work on the puffs primarily on the bus and at work.  I'm not following the directions given for stitching the puffs together.  I don't mind if the stitches show and it will be sturdier. 

We need sturdy around here, or at least sturdy enough. 

 

saturday field notes

Rainy morning...

But a nice afternoon to be outside.

To notice things.

To dig and plant.

To harvest.

Pasta made with the first egg, sorrel pesto (sorrel from the garden +local hazelnuts and garlic + olive oil) and purple sprouting broccoli from the garden.  Plus homemade ricotta.

Listened to an interview with Robin Wall Kimmerer. One of my favorite parts:

"I think of my writing very tangibly and as my way of entering into reciprocity with the living world.  It's that which I can give and it comes from my years as a scientist, of deep paying attention to the living world, and not only to their names, but to their songs.  And having heard those songs, I feel a deep responsibility to share them, and to see if, in some way, stories can help people fall in love with the world again."

first egg

Henny-Penny is laying eggs again.

caregiver

I like the word caregiver (care + giver) and if I must have a job title, it's the one I want.

Someone who maintains something.

Five years ago I started attaching heart squares on to a blanket in need of much mending.  I called it my Mending Heart blanket. 

Last weekend it was cut apart, what hearts I had attached cut off and I am now in the process of mending those hearts again, perhaps to reattach them to each other and make a blanket that way.

I imagine I could mend my blankets over and over for years to come. Reusing bits that are still good, sometimes adding something new. Knowing that I would be following a tradition of frugality.

Who pays attention.

Spring is coming.  The pulmonaria (lungwort) is always one of the first things to bloom.

I saw the heron again.  This time in the evening.  He croaked (you can listen here to what it sounds like) a couple of times as he flew by underneath an almost full moon playing peek-a-boo with the rain clouds.

I saw a towhee in the garden again.  I've realized that I only see them here during the winter.

Record rainfall this week.

Who is concerned.

I am re-reading Last Child in the Woods by Richard Louv for a group discussion at work. Many of us are concerned by how little some children interact with nature. We want to do something. 

Louv defines nature in Last Child as "natural wilderness: biodiversity, abundance-related loose parts in a backyard or a rugged mountain ridge.  Most of all, nature is reflected in our capacity for wonder.  Nasci. To be born." 

Last week the teachers for the 4's and 5's at the center I work at took the children down the trail to visit the nurse log they check on each week.  They are watching the changes in the log, the insects, worms, birds, squirrels, or deer they might see. 

Who will take responsibility.

Farmer's market today. 

We are on the once a month schedule for January, February, and March.  There was a glorious assortment of things to get today, especially considering it is February. I've noticed that a lot of greens that usually die back have survived the winter.  We've had a few cold patches but nothing lasted for long.  I have Swiss chard, broccoli, and sorrel that I can pick in the garden.  Plus herbs.  I am eating a lot of the things that I preserved last summer and fall. 

 

I also have eggs from Mom and Dad, hopefully my chickens will be laying again soon. 

Thinking about all the ways we can take responsibility for the world we live in, big or little. 

Tomorrow I'll plant a fruit tree, a few seeds and some flowers for the bees.

I'll be a caregiver. 


 

 

holding space

Back in December I was at a workshop where the phrase "holding space" was used.  The idea was to create a space that was safe and nurtured reflection (the workshop itself was on reflective supervision.)

One month from now I'll start my ninth year of blogging.  As I consider what I want this blog to be, I like the idea of it being a place where I can hold a space for all the things that interest me... 

Broccoli overwintering in the garden.

At the bus stop, with knitting.

Field notes:  47F, winds SE 20 MPH, gusts 28 MPH, light rain, visibility 5 miles.  This week there was a record high of 61 degrees one day.  The ground is squishy like a sponge from the rain.  Two male hummingbirds have been in the garden regularly. They sit in the trees and talk up a storm.  One morning a blue heron flew over quietly.  The small song birds have been in the dog rose, pecking at the bedegaur galls.

Primroses are in season in front of every grocery store: