I did this with my school last summer- super science cool.
Details and photos to follow.
Vermicomposting is a system for turning food waste into potting soil with the help of worms.
Grandpa's books
I keep checking the Fall Color Reports from Ohio Department of Natural Resources. I am impatient for the link to tell me the fall foliage is changing, morphing, letting go of green...
The day that the report tells me it is beautiful, I will pack up the family and drive down Rt. 33 and be inspired just like every autumn. Growing up in Southeastern Ohio I have probably driven that highway ten thousand times and I really never get tired of it. That road took me to my Gran's as a child and to the big cities with my family. It was my thinking road as I drove back and forth from Ohio University to my parents home. A beautiful stretch of rolling hills and trees that stood tall and strong became the backdrop for my adolescence and young adulthood dreams. I think some of the area is as beautiful as any backwoods New England town. It is pure poetry as it blows by and I miss it here. I miss getting lost in my thoughts on a drive.
It was on that road that I hit a deer one crisp October day and sat on the berm and cried and cried
It was on that road that I decided I loved Joe madly and would follow him to England
It was on that road that I last saw my old boyfriend ride by on his motorcycle and wave at me right before he was in the bike accident that took his life
It was on that road that I would drive hungover as hell to take my gran to the grocery store every Saturday morning
It was on that road that I would wish I lived anywhere but in Logan, Ohio
I want to be on that road again. Soon. I want to point out the colors and trees to my son and have his face pass into the expression that we share. The one where his mouth slowly opens and he curls his lips outward and his eyes sparkle.
That one.
I was smearing cream cheese on bagels back in the early 90's at one of the million college jobs I had and this dude I worked with (adorable-where in the world are you now Jim Hobbs?) gave me a primer on some hip music. He turned me on to Uncle Tupelo and I fell hard. I was in a store yesterday and heard "The Long Cut" and smiled until my corners wanted to crack. I immediately dusted off my CD and have had a great evening. To listen to yr youth is the most amazing buzz. What do you love? Think hard about songs you loved once and listen. You will hear the past and it sounds so sweet.
I've been searching and you've been gone
Out looking for the shortest path to the one that you're on
And I've already seen all I wanna see
Come on, let's take the long cut
I think that's what we need
When we were younger, we were strong
We felt a lot better than the things that we'd done
Now if it's to be, if you still believe
Come on let's take the long cut
I think that's what we need
If you wanna take the long cut
We'll get there eventually
I've been searching and you've been gone
Out looking for the shortest path to the one you're on
Now if it's to be, if you still believe
Come on let's take the long cut
I think that's what we need
We've been in a deep rut
And it's been killing meI
f you wanna take the long cut
We'll get there eventually
I have been duped by my husband again. He has made me buy another fixer upper. We have just sold our 100 year old home that we purchased in 2004 and rehabbed to a state of grace. We moved from our safe little apartment into a “stripped to the studs” house while eight months pregnant with our first son Finn. We were urban pioneers with our electric wok, George Foreman grill, and clothes lines. I prayed to the alter of DIY and feared debt by Home Depot. I brought a newborn baby home to a house that had only two inhabitable rooms and a kitchen sink. The suggestion of baby proofing was a laugh as exposed wires hung from ceilings and vents opened to the air duct work. I cried about not being able to have dinner parties or play dates. I was a very “hands on” mom: my hands rarely left my son. I was terrified and quite unhappy with the process of reconstructing rubble. Yet, after two long years we had a lovely home. My husband, Joseph the carpenter made the house a home and worked love amidst the beams and plaster. It was so lovely that it sold in twelve days and we were forced to find another house quickly.
Moving this time with another newborn baby boy we were looking for the perfect neighborhood to raise children. We found the green shaked shingled house that our son Finn loved. We allowed our three year old to rate each home we toured and this one was his favorite because it was green, but it was our favorite because it was in the swanky neighborhood we thought we could never afford. Turns out it was there in our price range because frankly, no one else wanted it. It had been neglected for years and was in a sad little shape. It smelled funny. It was crusty. It was not my home. But as he does, my husband began chipping away at my doubt each night. He filled my head with visions of walks to school for our sons, hometown flavor, low crime, and massive amounts of money to be made when it was done. At the closing I cried. I was going to miss my old house. I was going to miss my appliances. I was going to do this all over again.
I sit here now in this room that will someday be my kitchen. I look. I see that there are 15 boxes of wood flooring to my left and a Bosch circular saw on my kitchen table. My bare feet feel the sawdust across the floor as I perch on an enormous air compressor. If I squint and look across to the living room I can pretend the house is finished. We have just laid beautiful sambuca stained bamboo flooring and constructed a new box beam ceiling in that room. It is like Brigadoon in there. In here, not so much but I am trying to remember what this is all about. Really relinquishing control is what rehabbing is about; whether you do it yourself or contract the work. The key is letting go of the stress and fear of keeping up with everyone else. The key is to continue living and enjoying what you do have in front of you. I am certain that in the end I will have a beautiful home, but for now I will be in a state of disarray and it is really alright. We will be fine and those people in our life that matter will try and gingerly step across the nails in the floor or look away from the holes in the wall. They will invite us to their homes for dinner this year and my children will play in neighbors sunny playrooms for now. In my home we are still happy and we are still living life normally. Finn announces from time to time that our house is junky and we should clean, and as the baby starts to crawl we are alarmed by the dangers that lurk. But, we are in a good house and we can walk to the ice cream parlor. We are in a safe area and there is even a Farmers Market on the weekends. I am living the good life- one room at a time.
The way I feel now:
better still
learning
each day
to relinquish
relax
imagine
Hard. Hardest thing ever for me. I do not sew. Flashback to 1983 where I sat in my 4H (yes, I am an Appalachian beauty) leaders home and watched her basically take over and sew my buttericks pattern pretty plus jam and tee set. I cried and said I couldn't. She could. I placed third in my category at fair. I walked that blue Hawaiian print cotton suit down that runway like a supermodel. I smiled and said that it was so much fun to sew.
One other thing. I think this is bad ass:
This lotion rocks. I discovered it at hotel on trip recently.
Kiehl's Coriander Bath & Body Line. I am too cheap to buy it-thank god I brought three bottles home.
This tunic is so cute. And cheap! Target baby about a month ago- they still have em and I have had like 10 people ask me where I got it. My fashionista pal Jeni even rushed right over to Target yesterday and snatched one up. 15 bucks and you look hot.
Lusting over this fall coat. And this one. These are not going to make it into my cheap chic fall wardrobe, but I can still covet. I am searching for a coat with short belled sleeves or something similar.
Ideas for Finn xmas and not from China.
A trend that might just fit in with my life as of late. Why can't I put my make-up on anymore?
I just can't go here. Not even to save the world.But this... and this... yes.
Here's to Tuesday!
My dog died. Well, technically Lucy was my parents dog since 1998, but she was my puppy and I raised her up to a spoiled 2 year old and then moved to Greece and had to leave her behind. It was fair to leave her on acres and acres of green land in the country. I am glad that when Joe and I moved from Athens that we left here there. She was a well loved dog. She was my dad's sweetheart...He cared for her meticulously. She had not been feeling right and was due to go the the vet this morning. She was found in the safety of the old summer kitchen adjacent to my parents house. She was a wild fabulous dog. 120lbs of Lab and Dane and Rot. Gorgeous and fierce. Bye sweet girl- I miss you already.
I always forget about driving my car
moments before real darkness comes
and the green on the trees is not yet black
to the eye against the dark blue of the sky
and the wind outside
with all the windows down
is cooler than the fan that I run at max
delirious
gets me every year
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