Heaven

Today, Heaven is a plate of steaming hot summer squash and zuchini (brought home by bike from our CSA farm), perfectly sauteed in olive oil with a pinch of salt, eaten in a quiet house all by myself until my belly is absolutely full.

Peace.

Lake Wyola

Wholepaycheck or Vortex of Delusions of Privilege

Today I went to Wholefoods. I rarely go there, I mean it. There are many reasons not to go there. The biggest is that as soon as I enter I begin to suffer from this strange malady. I begin to believe that I deserve organic cherries, smoked paprika, freshly ground and honey roasted cashew butter, healthy charcoal lighter fluid, organic cotton tee- shirts for my children, kefir made from local, well-fed and ruddy-cheeked peasants who milk their cows and goats themselves and drive fuel efficient cars. I begin to be seduced by the cheese counter and the handsome young boy with the mohawk and homemade shoes who can articulate the difference between a young smoked gouda and a 5 yr. My eyes glaze as I walk by the sweet smelling shampoos and creams. My mouth waters as I walk by the $ 15 a pound coffee. And then, I leave. I leave with my iron enriched vitamins that I buy for my son, who I fear has the same predisposition to anemia that I have. I leave after I take a deep breath and throw in the sunscreen that hopefully won't cause cancer as it protects my kids from the cancer causing rays of the sun. I leave after I buy a few items that I can't find anywhere else. That I can't find any cheaper. And yes, I buy the cherries and the smoked paprika. And then, I leave. And I don't feel angry as I walk by the people in 6 figure cars who have carts loaded down with things that, really everybody, should have access too. Because the are people too, and they have kids who deserve the best. And, because, my kids have healthy sunscreen, at least this month. And they have cherries today and I put smoked paprika on my rice and beans. And it was good.

The "Magnetic Gray" lining

I have never known true poverty. I have never had a doubt about the fact that I will always have a roof over my head and food in my children's mouths. I know that when I was young there were "lean" times for my parents. Times when venison stew or some other stew was nearly always on the menu.  My mom has always been a savvy shopper and our clothes may have had nice labels but I know that much of what we wore came from a thrift store or was found on "deep sale". And even back then, there were times as a little girl that I thought that maybe we were secretly wealthy and my parents just wanted us to grow up "down to earth"( because in the North Country, we were surrounded by people who truly were poor and in need). And yet, we were probably always middle class and my grandparents were there to help out when we needed them. I think this was around the time that my aspirations were to become a "saint", like ya know, St. Catherine, St. Agnes, St. Kelly. 

Even now, when Matt and I use food stamps and we travel down the street to get food from the survival center, we pass our local CSA farm and are reminded that we had enough funds to get a share there. And we know that in a few years we will most likely have two incomes instead of the piddly amount we live on now. And like our own parents, we have family to help us out. So however " low-income" we are right now it is not and never has been "real". 

Our biggest issue lately has been our car. Ideally we wouldn't have a car. We would live in a place where we could walk or take the bus everywhere and to travel long distances we would have access to cheap public transportation. We know a lot of people here who don't have cars and they make it work. But for us , it has been a trial. Bus/train tickets to NY are not cheap. and getting to Henry's appt.s in Noho every week would require an hour of travel and a bus transfer. And on and on. Our Camry has treated us well for many years but lately it has been threatening to blow up and I feel pockets of ozone bursting every time we start the ignition. 

And so...... drum roll........

A new car. Wow. Ours is Magnetic Gray (more charcoal than this silver one)

And now we can go to school for the next few years and finish without having to deal with car issues. It is fuel efficient and has 6 air bags and is cute to boot. We are officially spoiled.

P.S  And so, yes you can expect us in NY in a few weeks after all. 

Miscellany

Garden in back
newest part of backyard garden
Hostas, ferns and calendula in backyard
front yard
front yard

Matt getting prepped for a bike ride/overnight camping trip.
Ezzie is in a sugar daze.
Henry is wondering if he can have another marshmallow.
The boys and their friend roast while the adults chat.

My friend left. I know, I know, I know. We live in a transient community. Every year that we have been here, someone dear to my heart moves on. This time, Dawn and her family will be in Florida for a couple months and then they will move to an apt. complex down the road. They are coming back. So why am I completely bereft? 

 Dawn has this mellow voice and attitude but as you get to know her, the feisty Latina surfaces. Dawn is one of those special people who can not only cook delicious food but set a festive table ( like my late Nana Kitty). Dawn spots you walking by her house and immediately pours you a cocktail in a vintage glass or some iced tea in a jelly jar. If a crowd of children is gathering outside, Dawn will put together a tray of bite sized goodies for the kids to nosh on while playing outside. Her backyard is the place to be for little kids: slip n slides, barbecues, kiddie pools and bubbles.  She is a very involved mother of two amazing kids (who I love) and she is getting her PhD., she writes about women in Academia. Dawn is a smarty pants and yet, so easy to talk to about anything. She is one of the few friends I have that feels more like a big sister. Now that Dawn has left, I have no one to wax on and on about gardening with. She gave me all of her plants and rocks. And every time I sit outside and work in my garden I think of her. 

So, my gardens are expanding, thanks to Dawn. Although I assured her she can have it all back when she returns. In N.V, we are required to make a rock border or put up some kind of fence for our flower beds, they can not be any wider than 36 inches. We do not have any storage so grills, bikes, toys etc. all have to have a place in the backyard as well, which can make finding room for a garden, difficult. We are not supposed to grow any vegetables but people break that rule pretty frequently. Many people grow scallions, garlic, onions, snow peas, herbs and cherry tomatoes. And when someone moves, it is all fair game. It generally takes 3 days for the scavengers to clean up the rocks left behind. I consider myself a scavenger so I use that word with all due respect.

The kids ate a disgusting amount of marshmallows the other night. I mean, for once, I did not count them out. I just sort of let it go and let them eat as many as they want. (this is likely the result of that one beer I drank and the company we had and for the  curious fact that if Matt and I are both present the responsibility of sugar monitoring falls to me because I am a woman?). It was the first time they (and a friend of theirs) had toasted them without help from an adult. And what fun they had. The adults had fresh organic strawberries and vanilla ice cream. Life is good if you have access to fresh local strawberries. right? I mean, how can I complain anymore about anything if I can walk down the road and pick the most perfect, sweet and red strawberries.

Destitution and Broken Bowls

This week's CSA strawberries.
Bachelor buttons in the backyard.
Calendula
Heirloom Whirly Bird Cherry Rose nasturtiums.

Just when we were starting to count our chickens, we found out Matty did not get that job. He placed 2nd, out of 74 people. So, we can still be proud of that. And the whole experience was good practice for him. We were just getting so excited about being middle class. Funny huh?

The silver lining is that he will not lose his academic momentum, hopefully he will start writing the big D. And he will be home to help with domestic stuff while I go to school. 

But boy. We were starting to get used to the idea of losing our Food Stamp status. And it felt kinda nice.

And then Henry, with his literally, buttery fingers, broke my second favorite bowl. Tears. 

But my garden is blooming. 

Just in time to be trampled by a bunch of middle aged men wielding power washing hoses and paint brushes. 

Okay, Kelly. Enough already. Buck up.

Proof that Matt is a thoughtful husband

Before recycling our EW, he tore this off the cover and put it on our bed. Christian Bale. I know he has a nasty temper, I don't care.