tomato-rama

So many tomatoes that the handle of the basket gave out. Henry supervises.

Fit

Mom came with me to crossfit this morning. She didn't do the entire
fight-gone-bad workout, but she rowed, did squats, and push presses. I
am so proud!

fantastico

My dad's tv show has made People magazine. Fame! Fortune! Meatballs!

Leafy thiefy

The secret ingredient to crisp pickles is a grape leaf in every jar.
Alas, the veg stand that I bought cucumbers from was all out. I had
the great idea to stop at chateau st. michelle on the way home and
"visit" their decorative grapevines. Thanks mom, for being my
lookout. Time to make pickles!

Sensations

Dark rich coffee, smooth milk, supremely soft alpaca yarn, a cool
breeze from the twilight, sitting at a counter open to the sidewalk
and watching people stroll by outside. Perfectly lovely.

High summer

An enormous harvest of summer tomatoes, a boy and his trains, and a
visiting friend.

My twilight

Sitting cross-legged on the deck, knitting while the dusk settles
around my shoulders. The birds approve.

Knitting voyuerism continued...

I am sitting outside a coffeeshop, knitting while I wait for Charlie
and Jeff and Suzanne to show up for dinner.

There is a woman at the table next to me talking in her phone. She's
been at it for several minutes and the only words she has used are "oh
my god." Yet she is having the most dynamic conversation-- sometimes
she whispers it, then every syllable is musical with laughter, and
then there's the stacatto "oh. my. god" of judgement for some
unfortunate person's actions.

Ok

You can eat now.

Putting dinner guests to work.

Earn your keep, guests, and make us more wine charms. No salsa until
you've made at least four.

Pasta Hootenanny

Warning! Our lawyers insist that you curb your enthusiasm for this melon. It's seedless, we promise. Sort of. But watch out!

Yeah, it's summer and it's been blisteringly hot. We are tough cookies! Instead, we piled the stove high with huge pots of boiling water and had ourselves a pasta party.

quick, take a picture before I singe my eyebrows

I decided to bake bread on the green egg, and the results were tasty but not all that much different than the oven. There was definitely another layer of excitement, with the lighting of coals and having the parchment paper almost ignite right after I slid the loaves on. I only had the temp at 450 degrees F. The loaves were a mixed bag. The bottoms burned just a wee little bit and I had to scrape them with a knife. But the insides did turn out far more moist than my sourdough typically does. Most of it got eaten, at any rate. Next experiment: making pizza.

Perhaps a thicker baking stone next time

In between eating watermelon and tasty guest salads and charlie's delicious array of pasta (one cheese, a pesto, and red sauce with meatballs) and sweets there was the usual crazy kids-everywhere fiesta. The driveway is covered with roads and train tracks and houses and hopscotch and flowers. The chickens are well-loved. A blanket spread on the deck became home base for a trio of wee ones.

can't walk very well, but they certainly can jam on the piano

Charlie's djembe gets a workout

After those with earlier bedtimes went home, the rest of the party moved out onto the deck with candles and pillows and every instrument in the house (except the piano, of course). What do you get when you combine eight musically-inclined adults, two djembe drums, two guitars, a ukulele, maracas, a tambourine, finger piano, banging sticks, a very musical washboard-thermos and a beautiful warm summer night? You get a hootenanny. Our neighbors were treated to a symphony of beatles tunes, duran duran, some miscellaneous tunes, and then a good long jam.



Then most of the musicians left, and a few of us went in the hot tub for what felt like hours, and suddenly it was 4am and I had to be at the gym at 11. Pasta party in high summer? It was a fabulous idea.

Somehow, having to lean forward and squint to read lyrics made it even better