Winter? Bah! Flip flops rule!

     I recently took time out from my hectic paintball schedule (I'm the one in the camo pants) to refocus on my Florida home projects. 

     

     After years of shelling out big bucks for custom-mixed paints that ended up looking like Pepto Bismal or diaper goo once I got them on the walls, I learned a trick from a friend and the beauty of the trick is that it isn't a trick at all:  go to the stores, buy the mistinted paints, mix 'em together until you get something you like and save the leftover mixture in case you need to touch anything up in the future.  Thinking back, I feel kind of ridiculous for wasting so much money on paint.  Every so often, the register at Lowe's will even kick out a rebate form and I get back 100% of what I spent.  Can't beat that deal!

     So I'm driving along, thinking, "I sure wish I had a mirror for the back wall of that room I just painted," and Voila!  I found a big mirror in someone's trash pile.

     I scoured my yard for lightweight untreated scrap wood (untreated since the mirror is going inside my house) and quickly fashioned a frame.  The mirror is secured underneath by reclaimed metal mending plates and the base of the frame, while unattractive, is solid.

     Then I got out the jigsaw and went to town on some thin cedar scrap that Mike had given me to burn in the chimenea.  It won't be featured in anyone's MOMA but for zero $$$ and a couple hours of work, I think it's kinda cool.

     Speaking of "kinda cool", after 5 years of ownership I just discovered where the special character function is on my Macbook Pro.  

     Today is the first day of the rest of my life.

     My brassavola nodosa is in bloom again.  This beautiful, night-scented orchid is consistently hailed as an easy-to-grow-perfect-for-beginners orchid.  Allow me to say, I've killed several.  I still don't know why this one survived but it blooms at least once a year and the little flowers release a perfume that has a kind of caramel note to it.  I keep trying to define it in my mind but I need to study perfume terminology first.

     The chickens "planted" some tomatoes in the mulch for me.  This is the heirloom cherry tomato that produces tiny, succulent fruits and that I long ago forgot the name of so I nurture it whenever a plant appears.  These have been imprisoned behind chicken wire for their own safety and have already set several fruits.  Fingers crossed that I get them before a frost!

     I harvested a calabaza (there's still about 10 more in the yard) and prepared it by frying up some onions and garlic in bacon drippings then tossing in the cubed squash and seasoning with a little apple cider vinegar and brown sugar.  Yum!  

     I decided not to feel guilty for only having a few servings of squash from each behemoth calabaza.  My body begins to reject squash after 3 servings in a row but the chickens never tire of it so we share.

     

       And always the quandary of that damn papaya tree.  I have mollycoddled that thing and it's paid off up to the point of it being covered in fruit but actually getting to enjoy eating the fruit has evaded me.  They are taking their own sweet time ripening and the first 2 that showed a blush of color revealed rotten interiors brought on by insects burrowing through the bud end.  The third fruit, while very small, was perfect inside!  Finally!  I ate the whole thing with a spoon, scooping it right out of the rind, while I watched Mike and the boys practice painful-looking wrestling moves on my yoga mat.

     The tree has also developed a serious tilt and if I don't decide to stake it soon, it will topple.

     Amidst everything else, I squeezed in some fossil jewelry time.  I donated 3 pieces to the fossil club for the monthly raffle and when the club president mentioned holding them back for the silent auction at the December Fossil Fest (yes, there is such a thing), I told him I would make a few necklaces for that, too.  Done!

     Now, I want to get that Christmas tree put up!

     

Knitting, past and present

     Just past, actually.

     A few years ago, someone gave me a book titled Kitschy Knits.  It's a collection of photos from old knitting patterns with very funny descriptions written by the author.  I've always enjoyed looking through old patterns (sewing, knitting, crochet, etc.) and a recent donation of unused craft items yielded some great pamphlets.  

     I know that a topic like this could go on forever; it's a well-traveled path and I'm no comedian, but just in case you're not aware of our past trends, I'll post a few pictures so that you won't be doomed to repeat them.

     To paraphrase a line from an episode of Chappelle Show, I can't say anything about this photo that hasn't already been said about Afghanistan. 

     This confuses me and every time I look at it, I'm confused anew.  What is this?!  Did anybody every really wear anything like this?  Raffia?!  Look closely at this mess of raffia loops and "bangles": it's upsetting and it looks dangerously "snaggy."

      Well, she LOOKS happy.  Maybe she is.  I can't imagine she got paid much for the photo shoot so maybe they let her keep the outfit and she really did like it.

     I choose to end this brief sojourn on a positive note.  I find this photo very appealing.  Despite the fact that the guy on the left looks more like a college professor than a student, the image has great energy and the knits aren't half-bad either.  Cute!

     

     

Wool scarves and tank tops

Yes, I am modeling one of my knit scarves in a tank top.

     I love knits but I love Florida, too, so I don't get a lot of opportunities to wear knits.  I love the process of knitting so I opened an Etsy shop because I'm going to keep knitting and I might as well try to sell some of the things I knit.  They're not flying off the cyber-shelves (there's a LOT of competition) but I do make a sale here and there.

  Two recent donations of fabulous yarn have me imagining the Hindu goddess, Kali, with all her arms,  knitting.  Oh, to have such an advantage!

    Normally I try to find free patterns on Ravelry but the influx of yarn made me feel indulgent and I purchased a pattern book at Joann's.  "Easy"...that's what I like.  How can you go wrong with "Easy"?

Well, you could leave out important parts of the instructions, that's how.  

     I took the book to the sports bar with me so I'd have something to do on commercial breaks during the Patriots/Broncos game.  The pattern called for a linen stitch but after following the stitch guide for several rounds, it was apparent that my hat was not going to resemble the photo.  Thank goodness for YouTube and iPhones.  I watched a quick video of a linen stitch and noted that my book's instructions left out half of the stitch. Wow.  I started over and the brim began to take shape.  I got quite a bit done during the first half of the game because there was Patriot blood in the water and I couldn't bear to witness our humiliation.  By the time I realized another part of the instructions was incorrect, the Patriots were in the midst of a stunning comeback so I set the project aside to correct the next day.

And lest your minds head in that direction, the India Pale Ale had nothing to do with my knitting difficulties.  I am adept at happy hour knitting; maybe not something to brag about but a skill, nonetheless.

What's in a ñame?

     As I previously wrote, only Martha Stewart could convince me to purchase the exotic looking tuber, ñame.  I always study those aliens to my diet; they reside in the grocery store bins next to equally foreign looking plant parts like aloe spears (salads?), cactus pads, yucca roots, and chayotes.  Back in 1993, I lived with a family in Mexico for 6 weeks and the señora cooked a lot of chayote and it was fabulous but try as I might, I couldn't make it taste the same in my home kitchen.  

  

     So I bought a small ñame and looked up a recipe on the internet.  I was directed to cut it up like chips, season it and cook it in the oven until it browned.  The recipe also alerted me that ñame was "jucier" than a potato so I should use caution when slicing it.  I discovered that "jucier" actually meant "sickeningly mucous-y"; not the same as juicy at all.  There was some serious okra-style shite going on in my kitchen.  

     The finished result looks and tastes ok and while I appreciate earning kitchen cred for preparing it, I don't need to do it ever again.  

     Out of curiosity, I Googled "true yam" to see if the ñame appeared in Indian cuisine and was directed to a recipe for "elephant yam" and warned that this yam could make my fingers itch for days.

I don't even know what to say about that except that I WON'T be preparing elephant yam, ever.

     Now is a good time to post this picture:

     I'm the first to admit that I spent over half my life reviling football.

Then I moved to Florida with a former college football player and decided I might try to enjoy the game a little.That's when I looked at the TV screen one day and realized: Tom Brady is handsome, tall and athletic; I love this game!

     But I digress...

     More uses for the ladder rack on my 1995 Ford Ranger:

    Keeps the dachshunds in a holding pattern while I arrange their travel bed on the front seat.

    And now for a photo of the most perfect chicken butt EVER:

     This might seem like a strange thing to post but since Pearl spends much of her time running away from me I've had ample opportunity to study the beautiful arrangement of feathers on the back of her tail and it really is perfect.  

     The temps are cooling and I suspect the frog sightings will lessen for the winter but this little guy was hanging out by my front door yesterday, waiting for the bugs to gather around my porch light.

     I found this amazing looking caterpillar on my mango tree.  While I appreciate its unique beauty, I appreciate my mangoes more so I removed it from the plant.  It made some kind of an irritated sound every time I moved it.  

     And a fishing picture:

     No, it's not a very exciting fishing picture but it was a beautiful day on the Indian River in Oak Hill, Florida.  The stepsons, who normally lose interest is fishing after the first cast, all insisted on having their own rod and since I only packed 3 rods, as it's never been an issue before, I ended up buying cheap cane poles from the bait shop for the girls to use, thus avoiding more male drama.

     I figured out how to successfully "cast" a fairly long line from the thing but my cane pole days started and ended on that dock.  Next time, I'll pack MORE than enough rods and reels.

     

Halloween: it's not just for kids!

     I love this time of year!

     You can scoff and tsk! all you want but this issue of Martha Stewart Living is so beautiful and, yes, inspirational.  Only Martha can make me want to prepare an entire Thanksgiving meal (even though I won't) and only Martha can make tubers sound to delicious that I had to buy a ñame.

     It's a true yam, which still doesn't answer a lot of the questions I have, but apparently it's going to taste amazing when I'm done with it.

     I used to love the whole pumpkin carving routine when it was just a goofy face and the main creative aspect was how many teeth you could cut into the mouth.

     I thought buying a kit was a good idea until it became apparent that the kids were not going to see the complex designs through to the bitter end and I wound up carving 3 pumpkins as fast as I could.  See those flimsy little tools in the photo?  Toast.

     At least they seem to have forgotten the rainbow loom although the rubber bands will persist as a reminder for decades.

     I spent the last couple weeks of October focusing on costumes and was fortunate enough to rope in a couple of friends.  I turned this pattern:

     ...into these sister wives:

     The dresses weren't perfect as our sizes vary WILDLY, but they were good enough for the night and got some fun attention.

     A last minute run to Goodwill netted the makings of Monk Night costumes to wear to the Belgian beer bar.

     My outfit was originally a ladies coat and Mike's Buddhist monk garb was a set of melon bedsheets. I told him, "Melon is the new saffron!"  As usual, I had to add creepy sunglasses and a beard.

     Two things happened after Monk Night:

#1. I ate this portion of chicken and waffles.

No regrets.

#2. I pulled my crazy monk hair into a ponytail the next morning and went out in public.

No regrets.

     A mild chicken-n-waffle hangover did not stop me from some cosmetic work on the house.  I needed to spackle some large holes in the wall so I grabbed a tub of joint compound (left over from a different project) and cut a spatula out of an old plastic food container, and got it done!

     A couple coats of paint and a few framed pictures and it will look good as new!

The jungle goes dormant

     The daily rains have stopped and I finally have a little breathing room in regards to plant care.  Now I can stand back and think about carving some structure into the front landscaping.

     FINALLY, the cassia is doing what I've been waiting all year for it to do.  How can I manage this thing?  If I don't continually prune it hard all summer, it would absolutely swallow my front yard, yet the constant shaping has reduced it to 1 blooming session a year.  And it's still unruly!

     This cardboard palm was a wee little thing when I planted it years ago.  It's growth is slow but persistent and I like it lots.

     I haven't bothered to look up the life expectancy of my papaya tree since I believe the first frost will end it and the trunk has started to lean (it volunteered in a planter box).  Please, please, please just let one of the fruits ripen!

     I removed some agave pups for repotting...

     ...and became entranced with the beauty of the main plant's inner structure.

Wake up!  Back to work!

     I harvested the first of the care-free calabazas.  My main obstacle to enjoying this abundant, easy to grow squash is that I don't enjoy it.  It's crazy hard to cut although I've developed a system:  I crack it on the cement then slowly work the fault lines with a paring knife.  I was all excited about a recipe for Persian Pumpkin Stew until I started to prepare it and found it was pretty much just chicken broth and pumpkin with the addition of some lemon juice.  Hell, I coulda thought of that! 

     The respite from the yard is welcome as I have some interior chores to attend to but I'll be heading out with the demolition tools in a few weeks (loppers, shovels, etc) to shape the whole thing up.

Kill me now

Need I say more?

     I think the addiction is starting to lessen but I keep wanting to hold my cell phone out to passersby and gasp, as they do in every Alien movie, "Kill me..."