my favorite corner (and it's not the one on the right)

my favorite corner (and it's not the one on the right)
Originally uploaded by run lily.

I just included the view of the dining room to make this photo pretty for Jes. It's actually all about the pantry. This is the pantry I mentioned a few days ago, made last year by our lovely painter-carpenter Tom, when I was 8 months pregnant and we had just moved into the house. The kitchen, for all its vanilla icecream glory, has no room for food. It has room for a bread machine, loaf pans and cookie sheets, pots and frying pans, a bread basket and a lettuce dryer (try it and you'll be converted), cereal boxes, tea and coffee (I'm going around the kitchen from shelf to shelf in my mind -- bear with me), a Moroccan tajine, olive and vegetable oils and salt and a salad dressing cruet, breast pump accessories, dishes for 12 and cutlery for fewer than that (a problem, I know), potatoes, cling wrap, aluminum foil, freezer bags, spices, various gadgets and a rolling pin, a cooking scale, Pyrex measuring cups in 1, 2, and 4 cup sizes, kitchen linens, a thermos, and a Tupperware bin full of round plastic food storage containers (different volumes but all the same diameter). No room for food. The kitchen does have a short hallway leading to the dining room, though, and at the end of this hallway, there was a broom closet the wideth of the hallway and the depth of a vacuum cleaner. We fitted it with shelves salvaged from a bookcase that was removed from another room, and it is now a pantry. Top shelf for alcohol and pickles, then savory canned things (beans, canned tomatoes, fish, pastas and legumes), then baking supplies and sweet things (can you see my pride and joy, vanilla sweetened pureed chestnuts?), then bags of flour, rice, and oatmeal. No pretty shelf liner, no gingham edging, and there's always some flour on the bottom shelf, but it's just the right size.

A thing I love today: vanilla sweetened chestnuts. I may love these even more than the pantry. Gratuitous recipe for chestnut mousse that will get you invited to parties. Don't tell anyone that it takes half an hour to make and is easier than Rice Krispie squares. Whip 500 ml of cream, fold in entire can of sweetened chestnut puree, pipe into Oreo crumb tart bases done in about 45 small muffin liners (1 cup of Oreo crumbs + 1/4 cup of melted butter, mix well). I place the liners on a tray and press the crumb base into them, no muffin tin needed. About a tablespoon per tart will do, pressed into a flat disk with a low side. Let them cool if you can before piping in the mousse, and then let the completed tarts sit somewhere cool for about an hour. I don't have this much room in the fridge, so I've put trays in the freezer and in the back porch (December). The recipe is a variation on something I half-remember from a French cookbook I had 18 years ago; in the original recipe, the mousse was served in champagne cups and garnished with chocolate curls. I do that sometimes, but honestly, I don't have that many (ok, any) champagne glasses. It's Thursday. See what everyone else loves today.

About the new banner (or, why am I up at this hour?)

Parenthetical question first: Because Peter's up. But he's back in bed, and I hope that he will be there for a few more hours. And now a few words just for Robin, who noticed my new banner. The image is low tide this past Saturday at Cumberland Basin off Rockport, about twenty minutes' drive from here. We call this stretch Red Stone Beach (the actual beach is just past this picture); everyone else (hi Alison!) calls it The Steel Bridge (also just past this picture). The entire beach is small, smooth, flattish red stones that heat up so well on a warm day that they must be the inspiration for hot stone massage therapy. It's perfect for dreaming on. Some people fish there. This picture is taken from the main road because the beach access was blocked by a very large mud puddle. What you see, though, is more mud and the newly-greening marsh, and a few rocks further out out. The points of land are New Brunswick on the left and Nova Scotia on the right. Ron and I thought we discovered this place a few years ago, but it turns out that other people around here do know about it, they just don't talk about it everyday the way we did when we first found it.

House projects, writing projects, and a cold

newly painted west side
Originally uploaded by run lily.

That's my excuse, though in reverse order. I did sit down to write something in this dear little space a few days ago, but all I could get down was "I'm sick. Peter is sick." So I got up and made some tea and went for a stroll in the garden. We're both doing better now.

The lovely painters are getting further and further on with the house. It's going slowly but well, and everyone has noticed more traffic on the street as our neighbors come by to see the progress. Our backyard neighbors called over the other night to say how much they loved the colors, and a few couples from down the street have stopped me on the sidewalk with compliments. Tom (who made my pantry closet last winter and created space in this little kitchen for someone who cooks) jokingly calls my sand-and-sea color scheme "orange with yellow trim," but I can tell that he's very proud of it so far.

Today's big news, aside from getting a first coat on the west side of the house, was that final proofs of an article I wrote a few months ago arrived. They look good. The article (tourism and gender in Morocco, with an emphasis on tourist sector henna artisans) will appear in volume of a scholarly encyclopedia that's due out in July. My writing projects for the next two months: revise second article (social organization of henna workers, due mid-June), write film review (ageing and work), and finish the henna ethnography article. Plus all the other stuff that will need to be done so that I can come back at the end of August and teach the following week. Piece of cake!

Things are moving along here. Peter and I went to a speech-development program for little ones his age this morning. It wasn't really a success. The program involved sitting in a circle and doing action rhymes for an hour. The other kids did that, anyway. I spent a lot of time bringing him back from the hall, and just when he seemed to be settled and enjoying a quiet story, the animator said it was time for another jumping-around song. I thought that would be a good time to go.

Our lovely painter is painting outside, and we hope to have the back of the house done (!!) by the end of the weekend. It's going slowly. There were 1" holes in the clapboard where insulation was blown in 20 years ago. There were some missing shakes, some cracked clapboard, some rotted trim, and some gaps that a small cat could crawl through. But Tom is out priming right now, and there will be a big change in the next day. We're off to St Martins for a very short break tomorrow, and then our trusty electrician will be in on Monday to install some lighting over the kitchen sink, and hopefully advise on a few other projects. A light in the kitchen hall would be nice, but there are no nearby outlets to run a wire from, and the walls (every one of them) are solid plaster. What to do, what to do, what to do. In the meantime, I've moved these ferns from the intensive care unit (the windowsill behind the kitchen sink) to a new home in the upstairs hall. The intensive care bed is now occupied by my poor burro's tail, which got either too much sun or too much cold a few weeks ago in the front porch.

No headline needed!

A new article, a new (to us) picture, and an old house

I've been working at the kitchen table today on the ethnography article (henna practices in Morocco) that I have been wanting to do for the past two months, and which had been put off in favor of the economic anth article (done, but revisions pending) and the first book review. What a calm, beautiful place to work. I always seem to pick one place to work on each project, and this place will be where I pound out my first draft this week.

Can you see a new painting on the wall opposite the table? That was in the bottom of a box lot (with some kitchen linens too, and maybe the toy trunk?) that Ron got at an auction last summer. He wouldn't have paid more than $12 for the box, and this was a bonus hidden away inside. I finally got a frame for it ($14) and now it's up.

And this is what's going on outside.

I heart Agnes

Final Finchtasy
Originally uploaded by Agnes McArbre.

Isn't this the very, very, very best little stuffed finch ever? He would love a home in our playroom.

3 little birds arrived at my house yesterday

3 little birds arrived at my house today
Originally uploaded by run lily.

These came from Claire at needle book. Peter noticed them while he was nursing, and pointed at them (mouth full) until I took him over to look closer. He loves them. So do I.

Exterior color scheme

Exterior color scheme
Originally uploaded by run lily.

We've taken the siding off the back of the house, and will be ready to start priming tomorrow. The inspiration was this picture of a South Carolina beach that ended up in my design book a year ago. The chips for the exterior design are on the right side of the middle picture: tan for the main color, pale cream for the trim, and bright robin's egg blue for the doors (what else?). The green chips are the roof, which we're not painting of course, but I wanted to get those colors in there. (The chips on the left are the front porch, which I did a few weeks ago.) And the last picture is our before shot. Cross your fingers that we get good weather!

little boy room, part 3

little boy room, part 3
Originally uploaded by run lily.

During little boy's nap yesterday, I got the new border finished. I'm waiting for a package from Claire that's due to arrive any day now, and I'm plotting to do some sort of large pillow for the rocker. I love black and white gingham, but I don't think this room can take any more squares. Maybe an applique of some sort. I really love the lyric simplicity of Hillary Lang's "I speak for the trees" quilt, and that has me thinking of some sort of bird on a tree branch in small reproduction prints like these at Quilt Blocks 101. I'm thinking several green prints in the background, a branchy-looking tan branch, a bit of sky, and a nice fat robin (brown back, red breast). I may have to become a quilter before this room is done.

3 rush-seat chairs, a teacup, and Mother's Day

3 rush-seat chairs and a teacup
Originally uploaded by run lily.

The latest issue of Brain, Child magazine questions the notion that there is a sisterhood of mothers. There are so many different opinions and experiences about conception, pregnancy, childbirth, breastfeeding, sleep arrangements and discipline that I often think that parenting should join religion and politics as one of the topics that North Americans prefer not to discuss. After a few discussions in which I've been bashed over the head for supporting midwifery, extended breastfeeding, co-sleeping, and other apparently unwise practices, I've become adept at changing the topic. But there is a common experience, though; pregnancy, childbirth, and parenting, however we experience them, are life changes. Whatever our experience, it's different from what our life was before. And it's hard sometimes.

Which brings me to the teacup. We went to Linden House's antique sale on Saturday. It's a twice-yearly consignment sale of beautiful things, mostly furniture but also some nice china. I was looking for kitchen chairs, and picked out 3 beautiful rush-seat pieces. They weren't terribly big, but still they wouldn't all fit into the trunk, so Ron packed them into the trunk and back seat and made a quick trip home while Peter and I waited. It seemed like a normal morning for me: we looked around a little more, he talked to all the ladies coming and going, and I peeked over at the china when I could. When Ron got back, one of the shopowners came out with a wrapped teacup that she held out to me. "For Mother's Day next week," she said, "We know what it's like." There is a sisterhood after all.

7 Milner Ave Index

Words (scholarly) written today: 398

Words (nonscholarly) written today: fewer than 100

Meals with fish: 2

Beaches visited: 1

Hermit crabs observed: 4

Hermit crabs grabbed by small boy: 1

Photographs taken today: none

Photographs I wish I had taken today: 2

Cameras taken to the beach after scholarly writing: 0

quilt repair and how to live

quilt repair and how to live
Originally uploaded by run lily.

I spent another evening yesterday mending tattered quilt blocks. This time, the new ones are the pale green with pink paisley blocks on the lower right. Selecting fabric, cutting, pressing, and sewing in place is taking an hour per block, and I catch myself thinking that I should do what they say about old quilts: put it on a bed in the shadier spare room, keep the door closed so that the cat stays off it, and cover the quilt with a white sheet when we're not looking at it. This is how treasures are passed down for generations. I do value this one, even though it isn't one of the fancy pieced quilts that my grandmother made for each of her daughters, and now makes for the new greatgrandbabies. Some of the blocks must have been old sheets, others remind me of the "dust-bowl farmer aprons" (I wish I could remember who used this phrase!) my other grandmother always wore, tiny floral prints in dark primary colors. And this simple one-patch seems to be a different quilt in every room it's been in. When I first took it from mum to live with me in Montreal, I was in a student coop and painted my room to match the deep blue blocks. For a while, I turned it over, to show just the hand quilting. These days, it's in Peter's room, I notice the robin's egg blue, mustard yellows, and tomato reds that reappear in almost every room of our old house.

I don't want this to be a museum piece. I don't want my life to be that kind of life, one filled with precious things that can't be used or, even worse, with a frenzied consumption of objects that I worry aren't stylish enough even before I buy them and take them home. As I mend, I notice discreet little repairs, other blocks that were replaced by some other sewer, and I wonder what she thought about mending.

bye-bye

bye-bye
Originally uploaded by run lily.

This is an outside view of the kitchen window above the sink. I was upstairs writing a few minutes ago when I heard a banging noise and went outside to find this. Our asbestos siding has good clapboard underneath, and it will all come off next week. Yeay! Stay tuned for more details.

triaged repairs

triaged repairs
Originally uploaded by run lily.

Peter was more sleepy last night than I was and I had a chance to do some mending while Ron and I watched Texas Ranch (my choice) and the Stanley Cup (his). I began with the worst of the tattered blocks, and after finishing it, did the next worst, and the next. Although this is a random pattern made with a wide variety of scraps, I'm trying to keep to the original vision by using the same fabric to replace worn blocks done in a single fabric. The pieces seeem to be a mix from 1940s-1960s. It's a family piece made by my grandmother or greatgrandmother. (Mum said on the phone this morning that she doesn't remember which quilt it is. She has many beautiful quilts in her life!)

It sounds fairly obvious, but when I sat down to do it with my seven different choices, it was hard to restrain myself. I think it's the high road, though.

I hope the repairs aren't obvious. The new blocks are the yellow and pink large-scale florals on the left side.

Things we do at our house

We cook sometimes.
And we read the paper.

the next thing to be painted at our place

the next thing to be painted at our place
Originally uploaded by run lily.

I'll let you guess what it is.

Our nature corner

buoy
Originally uploaded by run lily.

I've been inspired (ok, envious) lately of beautiful nature tables like this one of Green Wellie's and this one of mama k's and this one of SouleMama's. Nature tables are part of the Waldorf/Steiner school philosophy of strengthening children's sense of connection with the earth and with others through participating in the changing seasons and festivals. I love this concept, and have been trying it in small ways in our house. We did a St Patrick's Day table upstairs; it was quickly dismantled by little baby who turned one that very day. Since then, I've encouraged him to bring pieces of the outside in. He brought in a piece of cement the other day, and Ron gave it a place on honor on the playroom bookcase. We are all part of nature, even cement rocks. This buoy, from our old home on Dorchester Cape (just outside the frame of this painting, in fact), hangs in our back porch. It's my nature corner these days.

New projects and old projects

peter's new coat visits the garden
Originally uploaded by run lily.

I was thinking a lot about getting things done on Friday. I have a few few book/film reviews that need to get done, reviewers' comments on my economic anthropology article to address (they were positive, but that still means more work), and another ethnography article to do before heading off to Morocco in a few months. I worked fairly steadily all day, and felt good about my productivity, but didn't really finish anything. So I got out Peter's dear felted coat and finished it in half an hour. That's why I love these little crafty things. Boom, boom, boom, it's done and there's something to show for my effort. (When I get in these moods I wish I had gone into civil engineering instead of anthropology. A book can't really compare with a bridge.) Today is my day home with little guy, and I have lots of projects to do, all short and fun. We've already planted 3 cowslips and some lemon thyme (thymus aurelius) in the back garden (the mulchy early spring bare branched paradise in this picture), and put a pot of stock on to simmer. The fabrics to patch Peter's quilt are washed and about to get dried. I'd like to get a few of those tattered blocks mended. Mending seems so old-fashioned these days, and I love the idea of fixing something that was so loved that it was worn right through. The Velveteen Rabbit was one of my favorite books. Can you tell?