analog me

Marco's Terrariums

Remember last spring when my son Marco made some terrariums? In fact he made so many that we didn't have room for them, so he took some to a local garden center and a craft fair and sold them. He made enough money to buy an I-pod--which means for an 11-year old boy that he is a wildy successful entrepreneur. (Didn't hurt that his mom bankrolled the project, acts as his chief employee and shipping service.) 

His biggest problem was finding cheap jars, so I bought some whenever I came across any at rummage sales. The garden center had him test some moss, his grandmother collected some from her dock, and we made some mushrooms and snails from sculpey clay we had, so his budget is pretty minimal. But the results are pretty amazing.

He says he would like to explore in one.

So would I.

I'm trying to get him to be a guest blogger and write up his methods, but first I have to get him to pick up his shoes, hang up his coat and empty the dishwasher--so you might have to wait awhile.  

Just finished--Thanksgiving Cranberry ChutneyRelish

It's that time of year again. I make grocery lists, buy hundreds of dollars of groceries, go home start cooking, realize I am missing some ingredients, make a new list, go shopping, start cooking, miss something, go shopping, cook some more, etc. etc. until all the grocery stores close or Thanksgiving dinner is actually on the table and being eaten. As the big meal gets closer, the cycle speeds up. (Now I've gone from 12 to 6 hours.) I started the cycle a few days ago, and expect to be back at the coop grocery every few hours for another day.

Meanwhile, I made this and it is so good I almost cried.

You should make it too.  My cooking is pretty messy--I don't actually measure, so you don't have to either--but these are some guidelines.

Cranberry Chutney Relish

Start by heating in a pot:

• 4 Apples peeled and diced
• 2 1/2 Cups cranberries
• 1 stick cinnamon
• juice of 1-2 lemons
• 1/3 Cup vinegar

As this heats up add:

• 2/3 Cup sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• Juice of 1/2 Pomegranate (break in chunks and squeeze juice out with a potato ricer)
• Sections and juice from 1/2 grapefruit 
• 1-2" (2.5-5 cm) ginger root peeled and grated (or 2T ginger jam)
• 1/4 teaspoon cayenne
• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

When this gets a nice, thick, jammy look (5 min. or so) add:

• 2 cloves garlic pressed

Adding garlic always feels weird, but I make myself do it because it gives the chutney a little zing that makes it that much more delicious.

Now turn off the heat and taste it. It should be zesty, spicy, piquant, and fruity. Add more sugar, acid or spice to taste, and put it in a glass bowl.

You may wonder how I can write this up if I don't measure. I do something like forensic recipe reconstruction by carefully observing the evidence at the scene of the crime.

It's an ugly job, but I do it for you, dear readers.

Any other special recipes out there I should know about before my next shopping trip???

Mitten Lit

All this talk of mittens and of orphaned clothing items reminded me of one of my favorite children's books. Does anyone else have special feelings about this book by Florence and Lois Slobodkin?

(And can you dig that mitten font ????)

You can read the beginning here. At the end of the book, a family that has too many unmatched mittens puts up a line in their yard where children can find their lost mittens. The illustrator managed to make the lost mittens quite dramatic.

(You can double click on this to read the text.)

Ever since reading this as a child, I have liked the idea of a lost mitten line. (For those of you looking to get rich, maybe you could make one and charge admission?) While I have never seen a line, I do see orphaned mittens that have been picked up and stuck on railings, signposts, fences and trees. Like this:

(photo source)

I'm not sure how many people retrieve their mittens from these places. But, last winter I lost one of my favorite mittens (a felted and embroidered one) while walking the dog. When I re-traced my steps I found that someone had thoughtfully hung it in a nearby tree. Relief. Happiness.

It seems that no one bothers with other clothing--who would pick up a sock for instance? (And also, what are people doing that makes them to loose socks in public places?)

Do you pick up abandoned mittens? What do you do with them? (Or do you pass them by?) Have you had an emotional reuniting with a lost mitten? 

 

Now it's Gloves

Amazingly, I did manage to make a dent in the laundry tonnage this weekend in between doing some knitting and sock repair. Although they considered it an exploitation of their labor, I insisted that the boys match socks while watching TV on HULU. 

The sock darning I did is not a thing of beauty,

but then it's not going to last forever either. In fact, I think these socks are about 10 years old, so I figure some evident battle wounds are okay.

As you can see, we got a bit of snow here. And while my brother started planning a get-rich scheme based on a World Wide Sock Meet-Up, my family moved on:

The scene: The kitchen at 6:55 am. 10 minutes before the bus. 

DH: (with despair) Why are my gloves all soaking wet? How can I bike to work in these?

Son#2: (Spoken with casual indifference) Oh, I borrowed them while I was building and killing snow men. (The parents make a mental note of potentially psychopathic behavior, but stick to the glove topic.)

DH: (disgusted) So what am I going to wear?

Son #2: You can wear these. (He holds up his sleeping big brother's lobster bike gloves that he was planning on wearing himself.)

DH: Then what will you wear?

Son #2: I can wear your old gloves, and your new gloves will be dry by the time Nico goes to school. 

Conflict narrowly averted! But I know that long as gloves and mittens are wet, there will be pilfering and bickering. There is no time to loose. I need to take 30 seconds and make a mitten dryer. Make that two.

(I don't need to write a tutorial on how to make a mitten dryer do I? Anyone can make these in 30 seconds or less.)

Again, this is not a thing of beauty and it will not be a joy forever, but 

in spite of all,
This shape of unbeauty moves away the wet
From our damp mitts.

(With apologies to John Keats.) 

 

Sock wars

I just went in my older son's bedroom with some clean clothes. He takes one look at me, sees my feet and says, "What are you doing wearing my socks?" 

Well, he had a point, so I peel off the socks my sister just made him for his birthday. Meanwhile my younger son--with the highly tuned sense of injustice of a second-born-- smells sock conflict and runs to the scene. "Then you take off MY socks!" he yells at the sock imperialist older brother.

As son number one leans over to strip off his little brother's socks, he sees said little brother's feet--his sock drawer has been infiltrated ! "You're wearing my NEW socks! OFF !" Now we all have bare feet. The boys swap socks and I give the handknit pair back to their owner.

Back at the giant sock basket I toss through a bushel of socks like a chef mixing exotic greens for a massive, mostly black, salad. There are a lot of singles which means there must be a couple loads of laundry on the basement floor with the other halves. All my favorite pairs are either dirty or have holes. Big gaping holes like this:

So I put on a pair of my husband's socks. He's at work and is used to me wearing his clothes anyway. I just bought a pair of nice socks with flowers on them so I could have them all to myself, but I lost them on our trip.

I need to darn socks now. And do another hogshead of laundry. But instead of washing or mending clothes, I have been busy repainting my kitchen.

 

I think the kitchen looks fantastic, but the sock wars rage on.