six senses sunday

the flower garden at spikenard bee sanctuary

see

• the beauty and vision of spikenard bee sanctuary in floyd, virginia
• i've been documenting wildflowers on walks and hikes for the past few weeks.  it's incredible how many more you see when you are tuned in to their existence.

hear

• rain, rain, and more rain.
• my luca dog has gone mostly deaf so he barks all the time now to make sure he covers all his bases.  

smell

• that shot of ozone scent after all the rain.
• everything smells positively mossy.  
• lavender leaves crushed between my fingers.
• gardenia blooms and the last of the honeysuckle, so strong and sweet it makes me swoon a bit.

touch

• weaving plant material on the garden loom.
• hands in so much dirt.

taste

• homemade honeysuckle ice cream 
• a good old-fashioned moon pie while taking a roadtrip break in fancy gap, virginia

know

• a soft sense of moving in the right direction.
• the grace of easing up.
• a sense of safety, knowing folks care.

* * * * *

sunday grace: the garden and preparing for glory

yesterday was the first perfect day of spring in virginia:  sunny, clear, clean (lots of rain earlier in the week), and a beautiful seventy degrees.  we spent the day preparing the front and back yards at gypsy hill so that they can achieve their maximum glory in the months ahead.  the work was quite unglamorous in the sense that it involved more shovels and fertilizer and wheel barrels and trash bins than flowers and lemonade.

i couldn't help but think about the work as a metaphor for life, soul, and embodiment right now:

• where are the spots that require more digging?
• how is the ground?  is it packed and settled so tight that it supports, but is bereft of nutrition and aeration?
• what areas need extra nourishment?  which balance of nutritional components is optimal for current conditions?
• what are components that may require thinning, pruning, transplanting?  how will they thrive under different circumstances?  more light needed here?  more shade and shelter for this?
• what needs to be respectfully moved to the compost bin?  how did it once add to the beauty and meaning here?
• who are the people who show up to do the hard, down and dirty work with you?

i'm reminded of a poem i first read in my adolescence.  it's totally corny but i still love it so much. upon reading these words at age eleven or twelve, i began to discover my first real sense of personal power and agency in the world.  

comes the dawn

after a while you learn the subtle difference

between holding a hand and chaining a soul.

and you learn that love doesn't mean leaning

and company doesn't mean security.

and you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts

and presents aren't promises.

and you begin to accept your defeats

with your head up and your eyes open

with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child.

and you learn to build all your roads on today

because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans.

and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

after a while you learn

that even sunshine burns if you get too much.

so you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul

instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

and you learn that you really can endure,

that you really are strong

and you really do have worth.

and you learn and learn,

with every goodbye you learn.

-veronica shoffstall

plant your own garden, actual and metaphorical.
happy sunday junebugs.

the perfect summer weekend

this weekend was

1. lazy
2. slow
3. cool(ish)
4. not too humid
5. free of obligation
6. full of gifts from the earth

after saturday morning yoga, we took a beautiful drive to a peach orchard and picked a peck.

we shared a peach milkshake under the orchard canopy.  isn't this just lovely?  i wish i would have planned ahead and prepared a proper picnic.

but i suppose "no planning required" was another thing that made this weekend perfect.

our karma garden is giving us so much goodness this year.  the abundance of cucumbers and dill informed our choice for sunday supper:  cold cucumber soup.

cooking straight from the garden is something i'm getting better at as the summers roll by.

this is the perfect summer supper:  fresh, cooling, light.

c u c u m b e r  s o u p  with  h e r b s  and  p e t a l s

ingredients

•  3 large cucumbers
• 1 1/2 cup plain greek yogurt 
• 2 or 3 garlic cloves, finely minced
• zest of one lemon
• juice of half the lemon
• handful fresh dill
• handful fresh parsley
• sea salt
• course ground black pepper
• herbs and edible flowers for garnish (i used the dill blooms, oregano flowers, nasturtiums and calendula)
• olive oil

preparation

• if you prefer your soup smooth, peel all three cucumbers, scrape out the seeds and give a rough chop
• *if you prefer your soup a bit rustic (as shown), leave one of the cucumbers unpeeled and add it to the soup after the soup has been processed
• put cucumbers, yogurt, finely minced garlic, lemon juice, lemon zest, dill and parsley in food processor and pulse to desired consistency
• salt and pepper to taste
• move soup to alternate glass container
• *if you prefer the rustic version, process the third unpeeled cucumber to a rough consistency now and add to the soup
• place in fridge and let it chill for at least one hour
• when it's time to serve, garnish with more fresh herbs, flowers and more course ground black pepper; drizzle with olive oil
• serve with toasted baguette or croutons

as an introvert, a perfect weekend for me always involves some quiet alone time.  i took a walk away from the crowd and stumbled upon this secret lotus pond.  there was one giant white bloom, a few perfect buds and a corps de ballet of electric blue and black dragonflies dancing about.

a serendipitous and magical prize for a solitary meander.

thank you weekend.  thank you summer.  thank you life.

sunday grace

everything that slows us down and forces patience, everything that sets us back into
the slow circles of nature...is an instrument of grace.

-may sarton

truer words were never written.  while my life is not normally what one would consider fast-paced, i practice keeping things slow on a pretty regular basis.  patience is my work in this life.  for so many years, i thought that slowing down meant giving up and being lazy and i allowed life to force me to slow down (or smack me down in some cases) through stress, critical setbacks or losses and sometimes being unwell.

i try to be better than that.  and i continue to work on building a life that supports and nurtures time and space and expansiveness and mindfulness.  practicing within these realms allows me to demonstrate patience and grace under other circumstances that are not as pleasant.

some things that help me practice slowing down:

• yoga
• nature
• a safe home that reflects who we are

• paying attention to details of life and the nuances of the human condition
• making art (and making a mess a lot of the time)

• listening
• gardening

• cooking

• recognizing my shenpas
• a giant pink bucket of flowers

• practicing living in the current moment (hour, day, week, month, season, year, life) and not getting too wrapped up in what's to come (this one is tough for me)
• the farmers' market

• going to a real honest-to-goodness local bookshop that is not named barnes and noble and purchasing a real honest-to-goodness book (a book that i can touch and smell and whose paper can soak in a tear or two)
• spending time with all the lives and love and history and mistakes and victories woven into those pages

• allowing room for not always being right and being mindful of when i overgeneralize

this week, a friend from high school became one of the most powerful people in washington.  kevin mccarthy happens to represent the political party whose tactics i, ahem, pretty much despise.  but what i know about him is his kindness and his intelligence and incredible work ethic and that he is one of the most down-to-earth humans you can ever know.  from time to time i've worried about some of his alliances--he's one of the famed "young guns"--and that he mentored kevin spacey while spacey was preparing for his scary-ass machiavellian role in house of cards.  while i'm certain we disagree on many things, i trust that his authenticity and his kindness and his love of people that i witnessed on a regular basis so many years ago was genuine and true and remains to this day.

he offers me hope that my nation is not doomed to a slow death-by-divisiveness.  

that's a giant pink bucket of grace right there.

so very good and pretty

i love ice cream.   and homemade ice cream has an extra special place in my heart.  i have fond memories of my dad sitting in his aluminum lawn chair in the backyard with the old ice cream maker at his feet, cranking away.  i would sit in for him while he added more ice or rock salt.  if you know my dad, you know this was a huge honor.  just like when he let me water the lawn.  my dad takes his lawn watering and ice cream making very seriously.  i loved the sweet icy bite of that ice cream (which i later found out was because he didn't use eggs).

this weekend i made up my very first batch of homemade ice cream.  i used (and got creative with) a non-egg recipe. and because we have strawberries coming out of our ears right now, the flavor choice was rather obvious.

i wanted to make it special so i roasted half the strawberries.

friends, if you have not yet roasted strawberries, you absolutely must.  yesterday morning, the house smelled of strawberry, coffee and honeysuckle.  if i could bottle and sell that intoxicating scent, i could go ahead and buy my little art/yoga/flower/herb/goat cheese farm with the proceeds.

i also added wild rose petals and pink peppercorns.   the wild roses at the organic garden are going bloom crazy.  they are so beautiful i thought, i just want to eat them.

i used the cuisinart ice cream maker.  it was quick and efficient.  except that i didn't read the instructions and neglected to freeze the bowl, so the ice cream making festivities were delayed 24 hours.

i took like eighty photographs of the condensation on the starburst pan.  i'm weird like that.

isn't she just lovely?

the topping is pistachio and rose petal confetti.

this is the dairy version.  i'm working on a coconut milk recipe.  remember when consuming dairy and strawberries, it is essential to choose organic.  traditionally-grown strawberries are one of most heavily sprayed crops and non-organic dairy milk...well....those poor poisoned cows.

it tastes pretty too.

(i love the tiny strawberry heart on the side of the dish.)

s t r a w b e r r y, w i l d  r o s e & p i n k  p e p p e r c o r n  i c e  c r e a m

• 1 cup roasted organic strawberries
• 1 cup fresh organic strawberries, chopped
• 3/4 cup whole organic milk
• 3/4 cup organic sugar, plus 1/4 cup for roasted strawberries
• a pinch of salt
• 1 1/2 cup organic heavy cream
• 1 tsp. vanilla extract
• zest of 1/2 lemon
• splash balsamic vinegar
• 1 tbsp. rose water
• 1 tbsp. pink peppercorns, crushed
• 3 tbsp. organic rose petals, discard white inner tip and julienne
• 3 tbsp. pistachios, chopped

for balsamic roasted strawberries:

1. preheat oven to 325 degrees
2. use a pyrex dish or silpat on a baking sheet
3. spread strawberries in a single layer
4. sprinkle with sugar
5. splash a small amount of balsamic vinegar, about 1 tbsp.
6. roast for about 40 minutes, stirring a few times during cooking
7. smash with fork (keep syrup)
8. refrigerate until ready to use

for ice cream:

1. whisk together milk, sugar and salt until sugar is dissolved
2. stir in cream and vanilla
3. cover and refrigerate at least 3 hours up to 24 hours
4. make sure you freeze your ice cream maker bowl
5. right before you make the ice cream, stir in all the strawberries (with the syrup), the lemon zest, the peppercorns and the rose water
6. pour into your machine and let it churn for 20 minutes
7. meanwhile, make the petal and pistachio confetti
8. when ready, pour your ice cream into another container
9. top with confetti
10. freeze for at least one hour or to desired iciness

soooo good.

happy summer friends!

(notes:  the pink peppercorns gave a subtle bite to the cream, but i'm not sure it was worth the effort separating them out from the green, white and black peppercorns.  i couldn't find them in my little town, so this is what i had to do.  if you can't find them, this ice cream can totally survive without them.  also if you are eating flowers, they must be purchased as "edible flowers" at the store or from a garden that you know is organic.)

a week in color {№9}

there is no doubt the weeks when spring is transitioning to summer are the most lush and technicolor of all.  we are living in a riot of colors here on gypsy hill.  it is almost (almost) too much for me.  it is right around this time when i dream of wearing white cotton voile sundresses with french linen pinafores to balance and soften my rainbow world.

here's what i was up to last week:

i planted a wood trough of succulents for the outdoor dining table (above).

i confirmed my love affair with all things floral at pharsalia's flower workshop.

i put together a mini outdoor altar.  mary and lakshmi, together in peace, bringing blessings to the homestead.

i finished planting the herbs on the kitchen balcony.  i just realized that in this photo, it pretty much looks like only flowers.  there's rosemary, lavender, three different thymes, oregano, green and purple basil, mint and cilantro in there as well.  also, the fig tree (off to the side) so far looks like it recovered from the polar vortex.

i made many many trips to the karma garden to gather this year's strawberry harvest.

i painted a bit.

i ate honeysuckle jam (honeysuckle jam!) that i got at the farmers' market.

i made the best guacamole known to man for memorial day afternoon but we ended up devouring it before lunch.

i ate this giant bowl of happy with avocado, organic greens and flowers from the farmers' market.

i got scapes at the market too.  have you had them?  i'm going to make pesto, i think.

this week the karma garden is giving us strawberries, catmint and arugula.  the tomatoes are beginning to flower and when i water them, they give off that tomato leaf scent that reminds me of my grandma's california garden.  reminds me of love.

soul salad {№4}: rainbow caprese

this, my friends, is summer in a bowl.

start with tomatoes that look like they could have been purchased from the gumball machine at the five and dime.  mine are organic cherry tomatoes from my favorite local farm, sandyfoot farm.

add fresh mozzarella balls, or bocconcini.  these are marinated in olive oil and herbs.

top with gorgeous fresh basil from an organic garden (or your organic supermarket).  i like to leave the leaves whole.

splash with really good balsamic vinegar and season with sea salt and course ground pepper.  stir.

 devour.

picnic {№14}

an impromptu supper in the organic garden at the end of a sultry day.

ingredients:  bed of clover, scent of honeysuckle, dragonflies, twilight, the hum of the cicadas.

other ingredients:  goat cheese, tomato, avocado and arugula on baguette, cold leftover spicy soba noodles, a bowl of cherries, blood orange soda.

last-minute magic.