picnic {№16}

spontaneous backyard picnics pulled together with simple ingredients are my absolute favorite kind of outdoor living. on this most gorgeous in a string of gorgeous may evenings we enjoyed perfect light, perfect food and perfect togetherness on gypsy hill.

i saw a photo of this dish in a cookbook in the bookstore (now on my wishlist) and, since i LOVE caprese salad more than any salad in the universe, i had to try it:  burrata and heirloom tomato caprese.

so simple:

• slice a variety of colorful organic heirlooms.  
• layer in a concentric pattern with a leaf of basil in between each slice.  
• salt and pepper.
• drain the burrata and place in the center of the tomatoes, making a well in the center of the cheese with your thumbs to release the creamy insides.
• sprinkle with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, basil ribbons, more pepper.  et voilà!

the golden hour:  100% good.

and it's not a gypsy hill picnic without a fox terrier at the table (ahem, the corgi has manners).

the golden light faded, replaced with the darkest indigo sky, lit with a thousand stars and a bright moon.  i love it here.

to see more of our picnics, click here and scroll past this current post.


note:

picnic {№15} happened on easter sunday.  we packed up sandwiches and hot pink deviled eggs and headed out to the blue ridge mountains with the dogs for our first hike of the season.  we were met with picnic grounds not yet open for the season (why?) so we totally had to trespass on government property to have a decent space to eat.  luca ended up getting really sick on this day, we don't know if he drank some infected stream water or what, so the day kind of lost its beauty for me.  gratefully luca recovered and here is a sweet shot of sandwich wrapping that happened before all the lawbreaking and dog vomiting.

{ f O l k }

we spent the most glorious of saturdays at the folklife festival at foxie morgan's pharsalia plantation.

nelson county, virginia is one of the most beautiful places on earth, still mostly undiscovered (although i predict it will be the next napa valley), and inhabited by a diverse and oddly harmonious population of founding families, winemakers, beer brewers, farm-to-table chefs, friendly locals who drive old trucks with a couple of hounds in the back, artists, organic farmers and appalachian trail hikers.

the gardens at pharsalia are incredible.  foxie works a flower farm on the property.  i've never seen so many peony bushes in one place.   this is the herb garden.

there were several plein air artists scattered about capturing the beauty.

lovely chicken whisperer.

earth medicine.

the blue ridge was flaunting her magnificence on this day.

forager, flower-wearer, wild salad maker.

i had a cup of blood orange/turmeric/clove kombucha and it was amazing.

the early-season flower farm.  i'm taking one of foxie's flower arranging workshops in a few weeks and i can't wait to see how the gardens change between now and then.

shuttlecock catcher.

i am so grateful for this land and these people so near to home.

(not shown:  fiddlers, dancing children, giant bunnies, bagpipers and more.)

more about the festival here and a bit about nelson county's highway 151 (or as this california native calls it, "the 151") amazingness here.

early girl summer

we experienced a few summeresque days earlier this week.  the sun was bright and it was hot.

nothing says summer like iced (hand crushed!) hibiscus-ginger tea in a mason jar.

and watching afternoon thunderstorms through the screen.

and foraging for edibles in your own backyard.

and long lines for ice cream.

thanks for the preview summer.  see you soon.

a week in color {№8}

there were walks with painted walls.

breakfasts with pink macarons and coffee and birdsong.

bloom after big bloom of peonies.

flower market love.

itty bitty fallen flowers.

a wall that radiated love and kindness.

and a nap in the sunshine while bits of sari danced in the breeze.

hey colorful week, thank you.

a week in color {№7}

oh friends, thank you so much for your kind words and warmth and love regarding my last post.  you lightened my heart that was so heavy with fear that we would lose our wire fox terrier child luca.  i am over the moon to report that all the love and light and prayers and happy thoughts worked!  luca recovered from his mysterious illness almost as quickly as he succumbed to it.  one moment i was stroking his head and thanking him for being such a good boy (tearfully saying goodbye) and then he kind of just popped up and decided to still be.

dogs, like children, are incredible teachers.

i am overflowing with gratitude.

in other news, may is here and she arrived wearing the loveliest colorful frock.  the forest is a mix of pink and white blooming trees and those in full pea-green leaf.  the sun is clear and soft.  there is enough rain to (kind of) keep the pollen in check.

there is painting and daydreaming and reading and (yes) working outside in the dappled light and warmth.

there are sunday morning pancakes with rainbow sprinkles.  i've always wanted to make these!  their sweetness was perfectly mellowed by ginger syrup.

there is a lot of clearing of the old and wintered on gypsy hill.  the polar vortex took out some of our favorite plants, including the vine that has covered the pergola for over ten years.  i'm still trying to decide on its replacement:  wisteria or honeysuckle?

there are many trips to the garden shop.  one of which resulted in a carload of peony bushes.  it's not an inexpensive endeavor to rebuild the lushness that developed over a decade, so i will be patient and measured and grateful for the beauty that is already here.

and then there is this:

luca goofball sugarbutt parks says have a beautiful week friends.

sunday grace

mercy is in your hands.  pour me a little.

-mary oliver

some days you have done all you can do.  all the good intentions, the good ideas, the good deeds and the good karma aren't quite enough.

these are the days of surrender.  to spirit, to magic, to love, to the power of grace, to that which you find most holy. these are the days when the only thing left a human can do is humbly whisper the word please.