Rock the Garden

The clouds broke. There were rows of color in the blankets spread over the hillside. A young woman danced. Laughing, the man next to her put his arm around her shoulder and kissed her forehead.

A little girl in front of us ate shaved ice - her lips were dyed blue raspberry. Across the street, a small group of people sat on a rooftop with their legs dangling over the side. There were dark trees behind the stage, and across the highway rose the basilica, warm with the sun. The air smelled like grass, beer, and smoke. The fringe on Sharon Jones' dress shook violently. In my beer-stained jeans, leaning against Aaron's chest, I was happy.

Rhubarb Coulis

Yesterday Aaron and I made Straight from the Farm's Rhubarb Strawberry Napoleons with Rhubarb Coulis. What you feel when you look at Jennie's pictures is what I want to say about it - it was just as delicious as it is beautiful.

I doubled the coulis recipe and have a small jar of it left. This morning I swirled it into my yogurt and topped it with sliced strawberries and a handful of rolled oats. It was perfect.

Cozy

I'm in love with this dreamy bedding by Patapri. But I also worry that if I ever get my hands on it, I'll never get out of bed again.

See more wonders in PataPri's etsy shop.

First Day Outside

We haven't had any chicken pictures lately, have we?


Last Saturday was their first day outside, and they spent it doing what they love best: eating and sunbathing.

I know I shouldn't pick favorites, but I have, and right now they're my Buffs. They're calm and friendly and their soft, downy feathers are so pretty.

These big guys are finally moved permanently out of the bathroom and into the coop. They love watermelon but don't think much of bread yet.

May is Bike Month

A few lovely things that celebrate the beauty of human-powered transportation:1950 Barra Randonneur Bike Print (I want.)
Hand Carved Tandem Bicycle Stamp
Sushi Dish Set with Blue Bicycles

Thank goodness for fenders

Another rainy day. The light was gray. I slept in late. Had small bowl of soup for lunch, and a slice of cake left over from my baby sister's 18th birthday. Dressed. Slipped on my rain pants, my rain coat, the wide-brimmed hat that Aaron wears when we hike.

What I love about riding in the rain is the sound it makes on the river. Watching the beads of water drop from the brim of my hat. The way it makes me feel quiet inside. The birdsong that I would miss on a hot afternoon.

And then, just before I reached town, the rain stopped and the sun came out. Water rushed into the storm drains. I rode through the puddles. I listened to geese on the river. The world was as tangy and green as a Granny Smith apple. Everything shone with rain. The lilac bushes were heavy with it.

Dreams

There's snow in the forecast for northern Minnesota.

Yesterday brought the kind of wind gusts that leave your ears ringing, that make you want to hunker down indoors and draw the curtains to create a sense of quiet. And so yesterday, with my ears ringing and a chance of flurries hanging over my head, I dreamed of late summer and heat.

I love the heat. It entices me into water. It takes the dreariness out of our sometimes light-starved rooms and makes them seem like shady oases. It's exhausting and sticky, yes, but knowing how quickly it will pass makes me want to run outdoors and hold the hot earth in my naked arms.

I love the heat because it's intimate in a very physical way. In winter we draw inside of ourselves. We insulate our bodies from the cold - we build layers. In summer, we bare ourselves to the heat. Our bodies smell like yeast, our fingers swell. The heat draws out our sweat, the sun leaves its mark on our skin.

And so yesterday I dreamed of sun tea, vintage dresses, and hammocks at night. I dreamed of bare earth that burns your feet and grass that cools it. I dreamed a bead of sweat running down my spine, of seeking out shade, of lying in bed with my arms thrown wide.

But for all my dreaming, I'm not ready to let go of spring yet. The lilacs are blooming, and I bury my nose into their sent. I eat asparagus raw in the garden. This morning, I roasted rhubarb with vanilla and orange, and ate it over a bowl of Greek yogurt. And it was so good that I decided to shelve my summer dreams for the day. After all, in a few short months, I'm sure I'll be panting on the deck, dreaming of snow.