I have a confession to make. I have been split, from head to groin, ever since we moved here. I have one foot in, one foot out. This is unlike me. In the past, I either dove in head first, or barely skimmed the surface. And I am unabashedly blaming this split on my children. Before children I always knew what I wanted. Now, I want different things and can't remember what it was I once desired. Things I never even considered before having kids, I now think about more often than your average male thinks about sex.
In the meantime, while one foot dangles sunburnt and dirty outside the water, the other is cool, clean and mingling with the trout. Grow where you are. Home.
:: And growing we are.
Our squash, beans, potatoes and broccoli are happy, garlic is close to harvest and asparagus is still pushing through. Normally, cool-season veggies love our moderate mountain summers and heat-loving veggies are better off in a greenhouse. But this year, dang, I wish I had planted tomatoes and peppers. Our lettuce, peas, spinach and cilantro are limping along, trudging through the desert in Eskimo furs. This week's forecast: 90's.
:: Home. We've been making pesto. Lots of pesto. First dandelion pesto, then garlic scape pesto, then regular ol' basil pesto. We spread it on pizza, sandwiches and stash it in the freezer for January.
:: My favorite way to clean out the crisper: pizza. This one is laced with sauteed onions and radish greens, then topped with drops of ricotta, basil and just enough mozzarella to hold it all together. Mmmmmm.
:: No skeeters yet, so we continue our formal dining at this superb table.
:: Home. Weekly waffles,
Bike riding,
Afternoon shadow play,
Backyard shade trees,
Their nighttime ritual...
Home.
Laughing sisters,
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