Urban Organica

1" babysitter

Did you see his little face?  He's the Cindy Lauper of inchworms.  And his home needs daily moss-watering, fresh leaves, carrots, lettuce.  We don't know, actually.  But he's very gracious.  An instant terrarium in someone's old rice tub.  It seems it takes at least two hours to find the "right" rocks, sticks, moss & leaves.  The bottom must be covered with soil, so he doesn't get stuck.  Everything must first be checked for dangerous spiders.

A free pet + a chore they do on their own.  Our 1" babysitter.

Immigration + Boat Beauty

There's something that happens when you become truly intimate with a place.  Something that happens years past the initial impression, beyond the honeymoon, through some nightmarish moments & the everyday.  You realize - I am home.  I am in a place that has absorbed me so completely that I am now able to look at it through both old & new eyes at the same time.

I have been soaking up a place & become overwhelmed by it.  

I watch my boys, tying the ropes, driving the boats, bailing the kayaks, taking off their diapers & putting on their lifejackets first thing in the morning.  I realize that this place is in their genes.  And I am an immigrant.  I can barely swim.  I have these mini fear-surges every time I drive them over a wave.  They scream, "faster, faster!"  They can't tie their shoes, not even the seven year-old, but both older boys, 7 & 3 years old, can throw the ropes off a docking boat, jump out of said moving boat, & tie the ropes onto a post or cleat.  As can the thousands of other children who live on this lake.  

I am clumsy with those ropes.  They fall in the water.  I have to reach out to grab the post with my arm, stretching it long, as I remember to turn off the engine.  And yet.  This year.  I can do it in my sleep.  The neighbors watched me with the unconditional love they reserve for immigrant islanders, as I smoothly docked the little work boat, A Whaler, they call them out here (Boston Whaler).  I felt so proud inside, it was my first smooth docking this year.  Then I missed my moment to tie up & the boat floated off towards the rocks, me with hands around the post & one toe pulling in the boat railing.  A large cruiser sent me 2 foot-waves, so I was at once flying & balancing, up, down, up, down.  At the next dock they played the ukulele while saying, "Now she's doing tai chi.  Hmm.  Tai Chi."

I am home, & yet I am really of another place.  I will not go back so easily.

I am always at some random cultural intersection.  Where are you?

Earth's Medicine :: Echinacea Popsicles

All the island kids are spent.  The combined requirements of the sun, the water, the granite-&-root-packed forest floor under their bare feet makes them crash hard when they're not looking.  They don't ever want to sleep, just like us.  Sleeping feels good, yes.  But so does life.

Given that there's a plane flight soon, with it's 8+ hours of recycled air, we've started looking at how to help these tired aggies from crashing even harder, with a cold or flu or something worse.  They're just so full-out right now, using every bit of their energy to work & to learn this aquatic life.  The little bit of sleep they get is only helping them to recuperate, & maybe even grow a little.

One thing we're doing is daily Echinacea, in the form of popsicles.  We're just using Traditional Medicinal's Triple Echinacea Tea, steeped for 1 1/2 hours, with lots of raw, local honey for some bee-fairy help.  We let them cool & we're popping them into dixie cups.  As the full-time Daddy right now, D really appreciates any time I give the kids any "projects," that don't include art supplies, crafting or homeschooling.  Like popsicles that require their attention, pulling the paper down, sticking their noses in it, ripping off the "wrappers" with their teeth.

These photos sum up so much of my view out here.  As the working parent, I get them when they're sleeping.  There was a moose that swam over to the island at 7am last week.  I missed it.  It would have made my whole life to see a giant moose, chest up, swimming the mile from Timber.  But I love this little moose, to.  And the loon.  True's been working on a loon call the neighbor's taught him.  Apparently, the loons answer back.  Old pillows.  I love these pillows, they are beautiful, the color of this wooden world.  And I hide them the moment the rest of the family leaves.  I am Allergic to their ancient dust with a capital A.  

They are tired, & they are home.  This is the first time they've claimed the "Happy Room" as their own.  Their father's old room, where he hung his baseball hats & displayed his prizes from the Arcades at Weir's Beach.  Now they go to Weir's Beach, they play skiball, eat fried dough & come home with tummy aches, bouncy balls, 3-inch decks of cards & pockets full of extra tickets that show up in the dryer.  We don't want to leave, we never do.  We're working on it.

Here's 2 food blogs I'm loving right now:

Baking Beauties & Homesick Texan.  Almost makes me want to be a Texan.  Almost.

graffiti

I think y'all know how I love grafitti.  And color.  Aren't feeling so in love?  Maybe you just need to pick a wall to write on.  Isn't love an act of declaration?

I'm also loving this skivvies tutorial.  And these free numerology reports.  She's pretty right on.  I've entered info for 6 loved ones, & we're having quite the parlor conversation over it all.  Go on, try it!

It's always funny to walk around believing ourselves to be self-made, only to be reminded of how much we were actually given.  To find again that we are just a bit of some crazy giant picture.  But that's why I blog at this point.  To be small, one of the gajillions of bloggers out there.  It feels good to have these full, complex lives, then to distill it into some little random moment that we happened to have shot on film.  Making it even smaller.  It's a personalized version of what I do all day, walking through the woods looking for salamanders, Indian Peace Pipes or bits of mica.  I'm scanning through massive amounts of visual input, looking for something interesting, usually tiny, some little piece of life that's gone unnoticed, some temporary treasure.  

One of my favorite tricks as a kid was to announce, "I'm going to show you something that no one's ever seen before, & no one's ever going to see again!"  And then to produce a peanut shell, which I would crack open before promptly eating the peanut.  I found it in a library book & thought it tremendously clever in it's truthfullness.  That is the nature of blogging, to reveal some unseen, probably frivolous, sure-to-be-missed moments.  Something about catching that beauty is so interesting to me, like a response to the miracle-purity-sadness-mystery of every unique snowflake that melts, never to be known.  There's so much out there that I'll never see, & I appreciate all the bloggers that give me glimpses into what they've found to be beautiful & interesting.

Molly gave a little review of Julie & Julia that made me laugh.  I didn't know it featured a blogger, but I love thinking of her crying at the screen to Avery's dismay, so moved by the familiar portrayal of these two women's lives.  Molly's a fiercely authentic writer, powerful in her willingness to be public.  It's a strange thing to write from your life, sharing 1/10,000th of your day, but to be perfectly aware it looks like you are sharing about your actual life.  I think often about stopping this blog, but blogging families have made a big difference for me.  They talk about what works in their homes, what doesn't, their mistakes.  We don't parent as a village in this life, & yet it's somehow possible for me to get curriculum ideas from a homesteader in rural Australia.  It's only right to reciprocate.  The friendships I've made here & the feedback I get about sharing our choices has me keep sharing, albeit tentatively, while I explore this balance between my love of privacy & my belief in the contribution it is to be transparent.  Once again, the truth is somewhere in the middle...

how to: stretchy spaghetti straps

In a Baby-Muppets moment, the boys took this picture of "me."  You know, where their caretaker has no face?  She's just a very available pair of striped tights with hands & arms for getting things.   It's okay, I'll take it.  

My Mother-In-Love's best friend made her an apron I've been crazy for, in just the best colors.  I go on & on about it when I'm at her house, so-in-love-I-am with the very-Japanese (to me) 1940's print, the genius simplicity of the square pattern with the corner turned-down.  

So how ecstatic was I when I opened a ribbon-wrapped tissue parcel to find one of my own?  In my colors, same print, with the same genius matching square pocket?  Very much indeed.   Thank you Vicki!!  (She's also the one responsible for the red cowboy boots) I love, love this apron & have been wearing it everyday for the last 3 weeks.  A few times I've fallen asleep with it on while reading Charlie & the Chocolate Factory to the kids.  They always put me to sleep.

And since it's in the pictures, I thought I'd close up on my favorite shirt strap for nursing mama's, who need "easy access" to well-fitting shirts without ripping their shirt seams.  These strapsare also great for people who move a lot, like yogis, kids & teeny-boppers.

So sweet to see & so easy to do.  They take about 15 minutes with some practice.  Oh what the heck, here's the instructions:

Stretchy Spaghetti Straps:

1. Cut 2 pieces of 1 1/4"-wide cotton.   The length should be the measurement of your mid-back to your bustline. 

2. Make a piece of "spaghetti" by folding one piece in half length-wise, right-sides together.  Stitch down the length, using a 1/4" seam allowance.  Use a loop turner to turn it inside out.  

3. Cut two 1/4"-piece of elastic to exactly the length you want your straps to be.  Set one aside.

4. Pin a tiny safety pin to one end of the elastic & feed it through the spaghetti strap until you have just enough to hold onto.  Stitch this end of the strap closed, with the bit of elastic poking out.  You'll attach this end to the back of your shirt.

5. Scrunch the rest of the strap down over the elastic, until you get to the end.   Pin the layers together, 2 inches from the end & then again, at the end.  The length between the pins should be flat & not scrunched up.  

6. Set your machine to do a tiny buttonhole,  through all 3 layers.  Remove top pin.  Fold under the ends & hand stitch closed.  

7. Sew a little button onto your shirt with a happy-colored bit of thread.  Or some other appropriate feeling.  But please do make it emotional.  It's a very feminine detail.

Another little girly detail I'm loving, something I knew nothing about: fold over elastic in colors.  Are these just for wee girls?  No at all.  I'm a long-time fan of Rozae Nichols, who makes fashion so easy with her elastic waist bands.  (I have to say that her collection looks really harsh right now, but in real life she's known for interesting colors, fairy-like layers & beautiful detailing on her fabrics.  Not right now, I guess)  Any who - elastic makes me happy & I'm about to start using it everywhere from book covers to shift dresses.  Just think of the possibilities!

soup + warming stations

It's 5 am, East Coast time.  Before the recession, I used to take the boys all day long & try to fit in time for myself whenever I could, which wasn't often.  Mostly because one can't find time for themselves if they are forever sticking their kids into everything they do.  I'm in love with family time. It's what I know best, it's where I feel the coziest & most protected.  I never really knew that I was drained until I cracked, agitated & worn out, bantering on about how I don't get to make things or travel the world.  Once I hit those walls the world would turn black & white for a few hours - yes, hours, as I lamented over how much I've given up for this dream I'm living.  D has always said I married too young, that he caught a girl with wanderlust.  He's right, except for the "too" part.  I plan on fitting these guys into all of my dreams, & I'm slowly learning the art of sequencing my hopes over time & space.

At home D would be working upstairs, & I'd take the kids on field trips.  We would both manage our businesses in our own ways, with him doing all the collaborating, the managing, & the "doing," while I'd coach our partners & management.  Of course, my love is the arts & contribution, so as the recession made it more & more clear that this was not the time for a green exotic car share, & I became less & less enamored with our partner's laser surgery clinics, I started to feel less & less inspired.  I'd look at my unfinished garments & illustrations.  I'd think, "I just want to work all day."  Really, I just wanted to control what was happening.

my ca "office," complete with dirty toddler socks + someone in my chair 

It hurt to lay off people we love, to close the doors on D's gorgeous garage, but it was happening with all of our peers.  It hurt me in a more intimate way to stop giving.  We've always had to budget ourselves, but we've always been lucky enough to be able to create incomes for others.  We've always gifted causes that were meaningful to us, even if we only had $60 in our bank account.  All the rules have changed, & it's an adventure trying to figure out the flow right now.  Do you hold on & hoard what's there, but then stop the flow?  

I think D & I lose vitality when we do that.  There's something about our nature that wants to be free-er than free, to hold on to nothing, while still experiencing the very best of life.  None of this energy is really ours, anyways, it comes from other sources & wants to go back out again.  Like if finances were water, most people are public water fountains that supply small amounts as needed, not holding on to much at all.   Some folks are great lakes with dams that hold everything back for themselves.  We want to be part of a delta, part of a great, lively ecosystem with constant movement.  It just feels like such a healthy image to hold, this idea of money, literally bio-survival tickets, circulating around & around, reaching every living creature, feeding & being changed by everything it touches.  And us, just a part of all that.

So now I'm here working, in a blessed part of the world that includes sitting in front of an endless glistening lake, but inside, at my computer.  I watched D today, gathering up the boys, one in every size, gathering snacks, snapping up their "buckle-buckles" (life jackets), basically wrangling 3 unwieldy animals.  He's yelling, he's tender.  He's military, he's present & listening to their ongoing narrative.  He's amazing.  They head out in the boat, all 4 of them tan with glints of gold in their hair.  And I'm thinking, "I just want to play all day." 

I'm so grateful for all the times he watched us leave without him.  He always said it was painful.  And my mama, working 3 jobs & not seeing us kids.  And my dad, a published writer & visionary, putting in all those years as a mail carrier.  Pops, working the fire department from beginning-to-end, with his electrical business on the side.  Work is work.  It can be a vocation. A calling, a joy.  And still, There's a physical element of wear & tear in every career.  There's people to love that we can't be with every second.  

So...when I do get to see them, I glad to have made some soup.  Because when they've been in the water & their lips are purple, it's nice to have a warming station of towels ready to lie on.  It's nice to have something warm to put in their bellies.  And even if they've been getting that all day already, I'm so glad to get a chance to help a little.

Rustic Lentil Soup + Quesadillas

In a pot throw 2 handfuls of wild rice, 2 handfuls of yellow lentils, 5 chopped celery stalks, 2 chopped carrots, 4 inches of water & some Organic Better-than-Bouillon.  Bring to a boil, lower heat & simmer for 40 minutes.  Shred organic white cheddar on 10 corn tortillas on baking sheets.  Broil to melt.  Stack the hot tortillas & cut into 6 wedges.  Pull them apart.  Serve the littles soup in mugs with a bit of milk to cool it off.  Feel comforted when they say it's the best soup they ever had, feel miffed when one announces, "I don't really like it."  Then be truly important & finish their food for them before going back to work.

chuck to shuck

There is one thing we are up to above all.  Being "time-rich."  No more working for work's sake or money or status or obligation.  Chucking the old so we can really celebrate.  Every second.  Organizing our lives, our values & our priorities to be together, to move slowly.  To have choice in the moment.  Because it's still possible to prep supper with the neighbors, outside.

To take the time to dress appropriately for dinner.  To learn such skills from a master & to laugh at the sticky/beautiful/oh-so-interesting corn silk.

To enjoy the cocktail hour.  To be surprised by your guests.  To experience generosity.

To squish together for an adventure.  To be a family of families.  To borrow each other's space without boundaries or pride.

To be shiny, happy & alive.  To be safely scared & to scream & to encourage madly, right out loud.

To sing "taps" as the sun sets, with hand motions & everything.  To hear the loon's slightly insane call.  To feel a full day's accomplishments, frustrations, love, sadness & wear melt into a quiet hope.

To enjoy cooking sans gadgets.  With 10 year-old clothespins & century-old saucepans.  To smell the food as it simmers over the course of an hour, or three.

To go to sleep after an honest-to-goodness spontaneous recital.  Or many.  One night after the next, each musician, each instrument in turn.

Being "time*rich" means being there for our lives.  Oh, how much life  I've missed for so many silly reasons! The world has slowed down, it's had to.  I'm part of the movement, of those catching our breaths, slowing the cycles of buying & accumulating while deferring our best hopes for ourselves.  Some of us are looking anew, letting go of our old dreams, goals & wants.  Seeing what's here.  Feeling grateful.

Will you join us?  Please email me!  Love, Thyme

to make a damsel fly

Happy Birthday Nay!

Thank you for always being up to something ~ many things.  Things that are interesting & exciting, that will make a difference for people & add beauty to our world.

Thank you for my life.  For My Brothers who are so Perfect & Amazing.  For being the Lola that the boys talk to & share with every single night in their sleeps.  For all of it.  

For always telling us that 

"'We were made in God's image' doesn't mean 'we have 2 hands, 2 eyes, 2 ears & a nose.'  It means you have a head of your own, can think your own thoughts & make your own decisions."

Thank you for reminding me that to think & grow is a divine act.  That it's good to change our minds & our actions.  It's important to question.  For being such a whole example of a woman, a community leader, an entrepreneur, a wife, a working mother, a healer, a gardner, a chef & an artist.

It would be a lot to live up to, but you never made that an option I'd have to deal with.  You always made sure to let us be ourselves, trying out systems & abandoning anything that was irrelevant.  

Thank you for making sure we were always loved, that we always knew it.  We do know it.  It's in our every cell.  I love you.  Me

Chickpea Nachos from my Forced Vacation

I never thought I'd be one of those folks who have to be forced to slow down.  Many times I've wondered at friends who must keep working, who can't stop, who want their vacations to end.   But I've never really been on so many deadlines before.  I won't explain why here, but I've been on a forced vacation the last few days, mostly because I just would not stop typing, drawing, designing, phone calling, typesetting, collaborating.  I haven't been sleeping, I've been on a sprint, I've been putting the kids down at nine, waking up at 1 & working until 5, then sleeping until 9 for 3 months.  Crazy.

So my mom said stop.  D said stop.  Everyone said stop.  So that's where I've been.  

Wonderfully, joyfully stopped.

And now I'm going again, at a much more balanced pace.

The Food

(Veggie Burgers on KinnickKinnick's YUMMY GF Buns, Steamed Broccoli with Lemon Juice & Sweet Potatoe Fries a la' Chris & Kim.)

All my good work books seem to fall in the lake.

The Office

Yes, I just get up from my desk, well, really a picnik table, & plop down on that bed & go to sleep now. Balance.  Just kidding.  Wouldn't that be something?  No, if I want to take a nap, I still have to wait until night time when the kids are sleeping, too.  I just get up, & go join them.  

Because there's still dishes & dinner to be made, after all.  Balance is never what we think.  It's just a little bit of everything.  

I've been working with  Tracy on redesigning the Gluten Free Lifestyle Kit.  We've been so sad to take this kit off the market, but it we've been adding all kinds of new features.  Here at the lake we eat Chickpea Nachos weekly!

Like all of those recipes, it comes together FAST (15 minutes!), is super-yummy & goes over with the boys.  I love not having to make a separate meal.

Chickpea Nachos

1 can chickpeas

1 lime or 1/2 lemon

cumin + chili powder

In a medium bowl, crush chickpeas with the back of a fork.  Sprinkle lotsa cumin & chili powder, squeeze with the citrus.  Stir & let sit.

1 bag blue chips

1 block of favorite cheese, shredded

2 green onions, chopped

1 can olives, sliced, or crushed

1 tomato, chopped

Spread chips evenly over a  large baking sheet.  Cover with chickpeas, cheese, green onions, olive & tomatoes.  Broil for a few minutes, watching carefully.  Use a spatula to divide into four sections, place in bowls & garnish with:

sour cream

salsa

romaine lettuce, shredded

See?  Fast, fast!!