Give ‘Em The Beets

First off, let me tell you, my kitchen smells delicious right now.
I just finished roasting some beets.
It’s a complete garden dinner tonight: baby carrots, spaghetti squash and beets are on the menu.  I’m taking the carrots raw.  I baked the spaghetti squash in halves with butter and brown sugar and the beets, of course, I roasted!
Beets are very easy to deal with and they’re about one of the very most beautiful things a garden can grow, in my humble opinion. 
Here’s how to roast these gems:
1.  Remove the tip of the root and the greens from the body of the beets.
2.  Pop them in a lidded casserole dish with a drizzle of olive oil and bake at 350F.  Smaller beets will roast completely in about 25 minutes and the fresher the beet the quicker it will cook.  If you’re roasting biggies, check them as you go with a fork POKE POKE.
3.  When your beets are finished, pull them from the oven.  When they have cooled enough to handle, pick them up, one at a time, run them under cold water and rub them with your hands.  The skin will peel right off leaving a delicious, smooth beet meat behind.
4.  Dice these babies up or chop them into chunks and enjoy them alone, on a salad, or juggle with them.  Just kidding about the juggling.

I prefer to take mine with a side of plain old goat cheese.
It’s pure deliciosity.
Seriously people.  Seriously.
Best summer dinner.  Ever.
Garden fresh.
Cultivated with love!

Tell me, how do you like your beets?
And if you are already a lover of beets, gimmie a yee haw!

Happy eating, you skinny birds.
xx
P

Chamomile

This afternoon
between thunderstorms
I picked the chamomile.
It hangs from the ceiling 
in the back porch.
Someday soon
I will drink it.

On the fence
beneath a plum tree
a spaghetti squash vine is climbing.
The plump white fruits of that vine dangle there 
a few feet off the ground
like netted beluga whales.

On the front porch
the wooden barrels that hold the yellow flowers
have turned into unofficial graveyards.
The heat has killed my pansies.

The chickens napped in my snow peas yesterday.
I’m quite miffed with them.
Despite their most pleading clucking
I will not let them out of their coop.
They were flightless to begin with but now
they’re grounded.

This morning
when I went to a friend’s house for coffee
I took her the gift of four freshly laid eggs.
Two white.
Two brown.
They made her happy.

Now the wind comes again.
The plum trees are bowing down.
I’ve opened a window to let the cool in.
The staccato of rain against the windowpane
matches the beat of my summer heart.
It’s still working fine
though it’s slightly detached.
Pizzicato.

Watching the Weather

My studio time has been a bit of a wash this week.  It’s been too hot to work by about 1:30PM every single day since my space isn’t air conditioned.  By too hot, I don’t mean I’m mildly uncomfortable, I mean I’m sweating like a sieve and feeling a bit faint.  Sparking up my torch and working with it feels a bit like melting my face off.  Right now, another thunderstorm is rolling through town.  I hope it really pours bats and bullfrogs and washes all the heat away.  Plus, my roses could really use a drink.

The storms that pass through Pocatello are always a little pathetic — keep in mind here that I grew up with the ferocious summer storms of the Great Northern Plains with hail the size of softballs, tornado warnings and all other lovely stormy things.  I have some rather large expectations when it comes to:

thunderbolt and lightening 
VERY, VERY FRIGHTENING ME!!!



(Galileo) Galileo (Galileo) Galileo, Galileo Figaro 



My storm snobbery has honest roots.  How are the storms where you are, in the summer?  Burly and frightening or cool baby delights, like they are here in Pocatello?


Happy Friday to you all!
Have a beautiful weekend and I’ll see your bright and shining faces on Monday which is when you can also expect a shop update (including, but not limited to, a glitz ring, a belt and buckle, some mondo earrings and a handful of other bits and pieces…)!

Over and out,
Plume

From Garden and Coop:

Two fresh eggs, peas, rhubarb and a spaghetti squash!
Yum.

Six Things and The Zany

1.  It’s raspberry season!
My black raspberries are ripening at a lovely rate that affords me ten or so berries every morning for my cereal, warmed by the sun, fresh off the vine.  I walk out to the raspberry patch, sometimes barefoot, and fill up my hand with my favorite little aggregate fruit of numerous drupelets.  They are so sweet and sleepy looking.  I adore the action of raspberry picking.  It’s so satisfying to pull the fruit from the plant.  One has to grasp the berry gently, so as not to squish it, but firmly because it takes a bit of force to separate the fruit from its stem.  This fruit is so squashable.  So vulnerable without the protection of a thick skin.  No wonder they hide so well under broad leaves amidst the prickles.
What’s your favorite fruit?
I’m the queen of the raspberries.
 
2.  Mister Pinkerton, the railway cat, throws you the stink eye.
I love to nestle my feet under under Mister Pinky, wherever he lays, because I like the feel of his paws on my bare feet.  He has killer claws but he never pushes them into the tops of my feet.  He just rests them there, soft and warm and if I get to feel his warm little pink and black pads on the roof of my foot, it’s pure heaven.  Try it.  It’s a glorious sensory experience — like petting baby grass.
3.  My sweet peas are blooming.  They boast the sweetest smell of all.  I linger by the section of fence they are clambering up and I breathe deep.  I hope the flowers last forever.  When they are close, I feel cradled by their lanky tendrils and long legs.

4.  Judith is the silliest chicken.  I love it when she looks straight at the camera with this goofy expression on her face.  Chickens are always so wide eyed.  They’re never lazy looking.  They’re all bright eyed bird, beak and wattle.

Winona is looking especially pretty this morning and was willing to pose for a photo.  Rhonda is always quite camera shy so I failed to capture a shot of her but I’d like to point out that I DO think Rhonda the resilient red will be the first to lay an egg.  She seems like the most physically mature out of the three ladies.  She has the most developed wattle and comb.  See Winona’s wattle there below her beak?  It’s just been developing this past week and a half or so.  Judith doesn’t really have a wattle yet even though she’s the largest of the three girls — she is, after all, six weeks younger than the big girls.  Every day I check the nesting box expecting an egg.  I think I’ll find one any day now and Rhonda will be the one to give it.

I love chickens.
Even if my radishes don’t.

5.  Meanwhile.  Out in the studio I’ve been hard at work on a handful of resin projects.  There are two Bliss Necklaces featuring poppy pods, resin and aspen branches that I am hoping to finish today as well as a zany ring design I sketched up a couple of months ago that is taking AGES for me to finish.  It’s quite sculptural, somewhat otherworldly and it involves resin.  The resin work on this ring is taking me ages to finish since each layer needs about a 6 hour cure and it will probably take me 8 resin treatments to complete the pod filling.  Whew!  Resin is not for those who require instant gratification!  That’s for certain.  This ring will be zany if I can carry the design off without wrecking it!  Keep your fingers crossed for me.  This design is unlike anything I’ve made in the past!  I can’t wait to show it to you!


6.  I really like it when I line my fingers up wrong on the computer keyboard and then I look away while typing and when I glance back to the screen I’ve typed a paragraph of jumbly garble that doesn’t make any sense.  I always laugh out loud, delete the nonsense and then start again.  But I think it would be fun to type someone a letter with my hands shifted slightly to the right They’d have to sit down at their typewriter and figure out what the heck I was trying to write by translating my typing shifted back over one space to the left. 
Wouldn’t that be infuriatingly glorious?


Happy Thursday.
You zanies.
xx
PLUME