Gettin' There

This is a coffee cake I made a few months ago. One of two, actually, and took to class to feed my students. There's a long story associated with why I made coffee cakes to begin with, but I was rather proud of how they turned out and took pictures of them before I carted them to work. 

For lack of a better picture tonight, you get coffee cake. 

What I had hoped to show you by now would be tiny little bean, squash, and pea sprouts from my awesomely and timely planted peat cups. They would be so lovingly cared for, real and true proof of how I am embracing at least parts of this back to nature, good for you, simple lifestyle I profess to want.

Well, we all know how that goes. It doesn't help that the supposed best time to plant things in South Florida is in the fall, which *technically* isn't here yet. That gives me time, I figure. By nature, I am something of a procrastinator, though I have definitely gotten better about that.

I had also sort of planned on doing it this long weekend (when it didn't happen as immediately as the tomato planting did), but at this point, that's probably a no-go, as well. *If* I am recovered by Monday, maybe. But that's a big ol'  maybe (read: probably not).

They will get done, because I still feel the urge. It's just not as strong as it was. The fact that it exists at all is huge though, trust me on that. And all the results will be here, should there be any. The plan is to feed my mom fresh beans and squash and peas when she comes for Thanksgiving.

Anyone want to bet on if that happens? I bet yes!  :D

(And for the record - Tomato count now at 3!!)

Quickie

Okay, here's a quick one for you in the few minutes I have upright before I become dizzy and feverish again and have to go back to bed. *sigh* Being sick is not for wimps...

This is Awesome Alison's store. I discovered it when the dogs had their one and only visit to a groomer's (which is next door). It's just what it seems, at first, a little store aimed at foodies with all sorts of exotic items that you can't get at standard grocery stores. But the more you shop there, and especially the more you talk to Awesome Alison, you learn (or at least, I did), that it's a lot more than just that.

First off, she and her husband are very into their community, and engage in a lot of activities to support it, which is more than most of us can say. But the real reason I feel this has a place on this blog in regards to my pseudo-homesteading is because of the way she selects many of her products. It's not just about being organic or different.

The thing is - she buys locally, whenever she can. 

I have actually met the guy who makes the frozen ice popsicle like things (the mango-basil is to die for!), and he's a super nice guy. One day the cookie guy came and I met him, too (he asked me if I wanted to run his bakery, ha ha! No, he really did, but I had to decline. It was all a joke though. I think it was...). 

So what this tells me is

'Maters!

Look! Look! Look!

Tomatoes! Real (tiny) tomatoes!

Henrietta's First!

The tag said 65-75 days before the plants would produce. It's been less than 30, and here are tomatoes already! How awesome is that?! Something must be going right, but I'm not counting my chickens, er... tomatoes yet. 

Ruby's First!

Okay, maybe I am counting them - two. This one is Ruby's. George does not have tomatoes yet, but they all three still have buds. So at the very least - these ought to net a few BLTs, wouldn't you think? 

Also... 

Sick - Ugh

Alice Belle (aka Insanikitty)

When people who don't have cats come to houses where people do have cats, they often question the presence of empty boxes and paper bags scattered throughout the abode. This is why. Kitties love them. This kitty was my true baby - I got her when she was six days old, bottle fed her, took her to school and work, and she was insane (turns out I wasn't a very good kitty mama). She calmed down as she got older. This was taken about a year before she died. She was old, she hurt, and yet she took the opportunity to get in a brand new empty paper bag when it was presented. Kitty Love!

I woke up this morning with a fever, a sore throat, and coughing my brains out (and you all know I can't afford to lose too many of those!). I was going to write about this awesome little gourmet food shop I found a year ago or so and went to yesterday. That will have to wait. I've had ginger ale and crackers, hot tea with honey, and chicken and stars soup. I think I am going to go watch a movie, go to bed early, and hope this is gone tomorrow. 

On another quick note however - I have managed to enable comments, so comment away! 

Thanks!

:)

A Decent Theory - According to Me!

Yesterday, as I tried to distill all my ideas into just one to address for my super-snazzy blog, I was reminded of one of my theories of why people don't ever get as much done as it seemed they had to a long time ago. My entire thought process yesterday was the exact reason, actually. Have you guessed it yet? Three little words sum it up for me. And I will explain what I mean by them. 

Too many choices.

There are too many choices out there, which tends to paralyze some (most?) people. It even happens to me at my advanced age (ha ha!) even if it's just temporarily. Think about it - if you don't have the option (or even the knowledge of) climbing Mt. Everest, that's one less choice you have to choose from on how to spend time and/or money. 

Should I write about gardening today? Or embroidery? Or freezing or canning? Maybe cooking? Or heck, even about writing itself. Or possibly the cutest thing one of my furry babies did today. Or maybe just the great day I had altogether.

Do you start to see my point? There are so many things to choose from out there now, that people know about, and are actually options to do/see/experience, they often don't choose anything because they can't or won't make a decision.

I made a choice, or at least, narrowed down a field. The picture included here might give you a clue...

Mostly 'Maters - Maybe

<<---- This is Henrietta.

I was feeling pretty spiff yesterday, getting up my first blog post. I messed around with the blog itself some, changed the look, added some stuff... Yep, it was pretty great, and the people who looked at it seemed at least marginally impressed (or acted that way to me, ha ha!). But then as I looked again today I realized that... Dangit! I have to keep doing this!

And then I took a breath and told myself that nope, I do not *have* to do anything else with this ever. No one is making me, I'm not getting a grade (can you tell I used to teach teenagers? Lol). The fact is, I started this because I wanted to. Yep, sure as heck did. Which means the problem wasn't if I was going to write something, but what to write. 

You see, I had (er, have! Really - have!) loads of ideas. Just none of them seemed to want to settle down into a real post (and if you haven't noticed by now, you most likely will, that I can be more than a little verbose. Uh huh, sure can!). 

This is Ruby (and Sophie who would not move) -->>

So I decided, since gardening and growing things has been such a sticking point with me for most of my life that I would start with some plant stuff. So...

How It All Started

Honestly, I blame Laura Ingalls Wilder. Well, my mom and sister, too. And my Granny. And an online friend I had, who really is something of a homesteader. But mostly I blame Laura. That chick started it all, and here I am now, sharing it all with the world. Or however many of my friends I can cajole into looking at this  ;-)

I read the Little House books eleven times when I stopped counting every time I read them. And that was recreating from memory the first few times, so give or take a few more. The point is - if I had my worn out paperbacks available to take a picture of (they are, sadly, at my mother's house), then that's the picture that would be here, instead of the nice hardback I have on a bookshelf.

Maybe it was my Midwest upbringing, living in Ohio for the first part of my formative years, and being raised by women from Michigan who could grow and save and pinch pennies like nobody's business. Add to that the fact that my grandmother could embroider (I still have some of her things, as does my mother, and I suspect my aunt and uncles, maybe cousins, as well), and knit, and crochet and all that stuff, and you see how this has come about.

Gardening was something forced upon me as a child and I hated it with a white hot burning passion. Even as recently as a year ago, the subject of gardening would have me remarking to people that I'd rather stick a hot poker in my eye than do it. Oh what a difference a year makes...