May 15

Even I’m Getting A Little Bored Here, Let’s Move on to NYC

Categories:

EmelinaQueen

by Christina

This is the fifth entry in a series chronicling the journey that has brought me to Flagstaff and into the process of buying a house and settling down.

My last project with Red 3 was working with the Nature Conservancy in the Florida Keys. We slept in tents on beaches and spent our days pulling invasive exotic plant species, a pretty great way to end our time together. There was also the heat and humidity, the Poisonwood trees and the hurricane that blew our tents over, but that’s another story altogether. Since I was far away from internet access, my mom was in charge of finding me a place to live in New York City.

I went from this...

to this in a matter of days.

When I boarded the plane from Charleston, SC to NYC, I had only been to the city for the brief few days of my interview. I knew no one and was taking a taxi cab and two suitcases of stuff to a house in the North Bronx that I had never even seen. My mom did a pretty good job as far as landlord, coolness of house and rent went. $500 a month to to live in a whole story of a house in NYC is not too shabby. And, since the other tenants were moving out, I had the privilege of picking my roommates.

My room after a little furniture buying and furnished with the best kind of furniture money can't buy, good friends! (I miss you Chadwick!)

My room again, this time occupied by Alex and Ashley (do you really live in a place or with the people?)

We did live in the North Bronx which meant that it took nearly an hour to commute into Manhattan but as we were all teachers in the Bronx and taking classes at Lehman College our commutes weren’t so bad. My first few weeks in the apartment were just me, what I had in my suitcases and an air mattress on the floor. We started our teacher training as soon as I arrived in the city and thinking about furniture wasn’t high on my priority list.

Being 21 is never easy, being 21 in NYC by yourself is even harder. Deciding to be 21, live in NYC and teach 7th grade in the South Bronx is downright treacherous. I must be insane for deciding that was what I wanted to do. Besides the difficulty of my work, things in New York seemed to be against me. The first catastrophe happened during the Fall, the men working on the roof left something hot next to some tar and my roommate Megan and I were aroused from our weekend relaxation by firemen breaking down our door and our house on fire. Luckily, we hadn’t gotten around to much decorating in our living room and the fire was put out quickly. Not so luckily, we spent the winter with a hole in our roof, all the way through to the outside.

Just some of the aftermath from the fire

Once the shock of the fire wore off, my other roommate Erin and I made it our mission to get the house in liveable order. We found a used furniture store near where we lived (wish I could go back there to find furniture for the new house) and bought a great midcentury sofa and dining table. We were getting the hang of this living in NYC thing.

And then it happened again. We were the only four white girls in a not white neighborhood. We were all teachers who left the house at the same time everyday. It was bound to happen. I returned from school one day to find the house a mess, I immediately blamed Erin’s cat. And then I looked around. The computers, cameras and other valuables were gone, including my entire jewelry box that contained nothing of value but lots of sentimental things including my class ring and some of my grandmother’s costume jewelry. The thieves had even tried on clothes in rooms. Stealing my Gap jeans but not the K-Mart ones, my Levi’s denim jacket and anything else that fit. They hauled it all out the front door in our suitcases.

This was my breaking point. The break-in happened just after Spring Break. We had a few more months of the school year left and then I was out of there. I moved downtown with Megan, helping her sign a lease on an apartment that her and her boyfriend would live in for the next year. And then, when school was over, I was out of there.

I thought New York City was going to be a dream come true. I had some great times there, with some great people. There were some fun and interesting romantic relationships too. But it was too much. All that time outside in AmeriCorps spoiled me and too many bad things happened all at once. So, once again, I packed up my suitcases and boxes, utilized free baggage check and the USPS and grabbed my Cabbage Patch Doll and flew home.

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May 10

Eight Vintage Reasons Why I’m Hoping for a Girl

Categories:

Uncategorized

by Christina

I’m looking at the last post I made and can’t believe it’s been eight days. Things just get crazier and crazier despite my best intentions. I have to remember that when Thomas is in town between work trips that I’m just not going to get anything done. I did make a ton of bread earlier this week but that was because he was taking most of it into the field with him. I hope that his crew enjoys the giant pot of chili and four loaves of yeasted corn bread in an amount equivalent to how much work I put into it. There is something nice about knowing that he is going out with something that I made for him to share with them, it makes me feel like I’m there, even if I’m not.

Besides Thomas being in town I also took my final for my Accounting class and shockingly got an A in the class. For the first real class I’ve taken in a long time, and one in math at that, I’m quite pleased. We have also, of course, been taking care of all the last minute arrangements for the house. We close in just a couple of weeks!

Closing on the house and moving isn’t the only big event on the horizon, we are also just weeks away from the arrival of my niece/phew. I have been an Auntie for many years to the beautiful children of some of my best friends. Yaya, Juju and Colander are some of the cutest kids our there but it is still exciting to be a genuine Aunt!

As you may have guessed from the niece/phew reference, my brother and sister in law have opted to not find out the sex of the baby. My dad is leaning towards a boy and has bought plentiful fishing gear for his unborn grandchild (not that a girl couldn’t go fishing just as well as a boy). And my mom apparently had a dream the other night that it was a girl and they named her Noah Dudley. I personally support the girl part but I’m not so sure about the name if for no other reason than there is already a Noah in the family.

While I have avoided buying too much stuff for the baby (see previous post about the quilt I made), I have had a hard time not picking up some amazing vintage baby clothes. It’s easy to say no to the cute outfits at Target or The Gap because I can always go back and grab them when we know for sure, but these are just too good to pass up.

So, today I am posting these photos in the hopes of helping convince The Dudster that she should be a girl so she can rock these gorgeous outfits from her Auntie X.

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May 02

More Shared Spaces- Nashville, TN and St. Tammany Parish, LA

Categories:

Uncategorized

by Christina

This is the fourth entry in a series chronicling the journey that has brought me to Flagstaff and into the process of buying a house and settling down.

After our project in Mississippi, Red 3 returned to Charleston and then went our separate ways for the holidays. Returning home that Christmas didn’t feel much different from being home from college, although it was interesting to be the only one traveling in from out of state. Too bad it didn’t occur to me to appreciate these holidays as it becomes more and more difficult to see everyone because we all seem to live out of state.

After the Christmas break, our next project was working with the State Parks in Tennessee. We were working at Radnor Lake State Natural Area in Nashville but our housing was two cabins owned by the Parks Service in Cedars of Lebanon State Park in Murfreesboro.

One of our cabins and our van, where we also pretty much lived

This was a hard project for many of us, the work was difficult, monotonous and some days cold and wet. One of our team members even went home during this time because she just couldn’t handle it. But there was something nice about coming home to these cabins in the woods, they were warm and always full of energy. There are also lots of good memories of this housing arrangement, including a rather incredible game of musical beds that played out as our family situation grew into budding romance among some of us.

I often think about the people I know who are content to not have a permanent living space or who live transient lives without the need for a nest to return to. I don’t know how they do it, my home space is what allows me to get through any number of hard things (including mulching trails in a wheelbarrow fire line for 10 hours a day). Without a base I am just lost. I learned this about myself very strongly in the last year as we have traveled extensively and moved from place to place. It doesn’t have to be much, as long as it is safe and it is mine.

After our time in TN, we worked a local project back in Charleston so we lived in our dorm rooms before we moved on to a project working with Habitat for Humanity in Saint Tammany Parish, Louisiana. My parents came to visit during this project and my mom was appalled by two things: our lack of measuring cups and the smell. She rectified the first situation by driving to the local dollar store and getting us a set of measuring cups. You don’t really use them that much when dinner is 6 boxes of Mac and Cheese drained through a plastic shopping bag. The second situation she avoided by mostly staying outside. Somehow I never noticed the smell, I guess it was just part of us.

We lived in some beautiful places during our time in AmeriCorps but our digs during this project had to be among the most amazing. We were set up in the infirmary building on a Catholic campground. It was Spring so the camp wasn’t yet being utilized for its summer duties so we had it pretty much to ourselves. There was a pond with an island in the middle, a swimming pool, gazebo and just a short walk got you lost in the woods where a river wandered through. It was a nice place to sit and relax until someone appeared out of nowhere with a squirt gun.

It was close quarters as you can see from the above picture. I shared the pull out couch in the main living/dining room with teammate Erin and another teammate Jason, slept in a twin bed across the room. Everyone else split up into the 3 bedrooms. I still find myself lost when I am alone in a house, growing up people were always coming and going from our house so this organized chaos felt comfortable.

Big stuff happened while we were in LA. As our 10 month term was coming to an end, many of us were making arrangements for our next gig. Jordan and Francesca took jobs in Seattle, I found out I was moving to New York to teach with the NYC Teaching Fellows. It seemed like we had just started and were really a family, and now we were parting ways.

All good things truly must end.

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Apr 22

De-light-ful

Categories:

The Used Life

by Christina

When we seriously started looking at houses, I would walk out of each one with a wish list of what I would do to it and return to the apartment to do some research on this or that. When we decided on the house we were going to buy (i.e. the one that was the right price and in the right shape) I was somewhat disappointed that I wasn’t going to be moving into my dream mid century modern. Now that I have had plenty of time to mentally arrange my house, I’m starting to get over it.

While I was fantasizing over how I would remodel each of the houses that we didn’t end up buying, I discovered retrorenovation.com a blog about just that, retro renovation. While I may be jealous over some of the amazing 1950s and 60s houses she displays, I was pleased to see that even retrorenovation sees 1970s homes as the next big thing.

With that thought firmly in my head, I have lifted my recent thrift store ban and gotten to work collecting lovely things for the new house. For some reason, I seem to be finding light fixtures like there is no tomorrow. While we don’t move in until May 29 and can’t share any photos until then, I can share my new lovely lights.

While I would love for these wooden sconces to go on the front of the house the architecture won’t allow it, I do think they will look nice on the back deck.

The current owner has “upgraded” the few interior light fixtures (nearly all the rooms have light switches associated with outlets rather than permanent fixtures) with generic brushed steel from Home Depot. This gorgeous leaded glass number should look great in the entry way.

I’ve seen several listings on Etsy for vintage Pyrex bowls turned into lampshades. While I think they are cool, I prefer to use my vintage Pyrex bowls as…bowls and can’t bear the thought of ruining them for another purpose. This light has the same look but doesn’t maim any Pyrex in the process. I’m thinking this guy can go over the dining area in the kitchen.

Hopefully in a few months I’ll have some pictures of these guys hanging in their new homes!

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Apr 21

Moving On- Whitfield, MS

Categories:

EmelinaQueen

by Christina

This is the third entry in a series chronicling the journey that has brought me to Flagstaff and into the process of buying a house and settling down.

After a month of training, Red 3 was ready to move on from Charleston. Our first off-site project was at the Mississippi State Hospital in Whitfield, MS. Our accommodations were in the Shadow Oak Campground. A fence separated us from the main wards, but it was never closed. Either they assumed we were just part of the population there or trusted the patients enough not to harass us.  Needless to say, things that go bump in the night are much scarier on the grounds of a century old mental institution and walking through the woods at night to go the bathroom was never really an option.

The main cabin

 

No, we didn’t really move here, we came with what we could fit into our AmeriCorps issued red bags. But, we lived here for about 6 weeks and it is part of the journey. When we showed up at this site, we were still a bunch of strangers who vaguely lived together. Then all of the girls slept in one big dorm room and the boys in another and we shared six weeks worth of meals in the main cabin and somehow, we became family.

The girls cabin and the scary woods that surrounded it

The inside of the girls cabin

Now that I know more about group dynamics and development, we couldn’t have asked for a better living situation for our first project. Having all of us girls living together in one big room meant a much healthier holistic bond rather than the individual bonds that form when sharing smaller spaces with one or two others. And, we didn’t have to deal with those obnoxious boys (except for those of us who liked one of them).

AmeriCorps for couch

Needless to say, a group of disused cabins on the grounds of a mental hospital don’t scream design sense. We did manage to make a couple of couches out of a bunch of extra mattresses. What does it matter if the furniture looks good if you have a group of friends to cuddle with on it?

Red 3 Thanksgiving Dinner

And even if your dining table was discarded from a conference room the year you were born and your dining chairs are plastic and your dinnerware is not particularly awesome melmac, sharing meals with friends and bonding over the community of food is not diminished. Growing up, my family ate nearly every meal together, sitting down, at the table. AmeriCorps definitely instilled the importance of this tradition into my brain. Teams that didn’t eat together, didn’t stay together. When we all get together, we still spend most of our time sitting around the table, eating and talking.

 

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Apr 20

Emelina Queen- a philosophy

Categories:

EmelinaQueen, Metablogging

by Christina

I’ve been thinking about this blog and why I write it almost incessantly since I committed to it once again in November. This morning, I went to the “About” page thinking that I had at least posted something there at some point. But, I was surprised to find that it was an empty page. Every time I sit down to write that pesky “About”-ness, it seems that I try to distill my entire life philosophy into a blog post. This task is impossible because A) it’s always changing and B) if I could fit my entire life philosophy into 500 words, I wouldn’t have to stay up nights mulling it over.

Yesterday, I happened to catch a Facebook post linking to purelysubjective, the blog written by a friend from Prescott College. I was comforted by the fact that her writing seemed to reflect much of my own anxiety over the process of being an artist in a world where art is no longer valued, especially monetarily. And over the struggle between devoting a life to art and also trying to get by. Which brought me back into the train of thought over why I write this blog and what I am trying to accomplish with it.

So, briefly, here is a bit about this blog and why I write it. It is in no way a comprehensive philosophy, nor can I claim that every post will reflect this philosophy, but it is a start.

The name: Growing up, I heard many stories of Aunt Queen. If I remember correctly, she is my Great Aunt, although she may also be my Great Great Aunt. My dad talked often about how Aunt Queen would put canning rubbers in his pancakes, making them impossible to cut. In our silverware drawer were three pieces of prank tableware that were passed down from her. The first, is a spoon that has a fake fly attached to its middle, ready to be placed in an unwitting diners soup. The second, is also a spoon, this one has no center, leaving the diner unable to eat anything at all. And the third is a knife, hinged between the blade and the handle ready to give way at the slightest pressure. Aunt Queen also sang a song to my dad and his sisters while she was ironing, Emelina and I went a-fishing one day, Emelina and I got lost on the way, Emelina caught a sucker and I caught a bass, Emelina fell in right up to her as–k me no questions I will tell you no lies, Emelina fell in right up to her eyes. Many of you may have known similar naughty songs as a kid.

I’ve been caught up in Aunt Queen lore for a long time and in my teens thought maybe I would name a kid Emelina Queen or use it as a pen name when I became a famous writer. It seems most fitting to use this moniker for a blog (and Etsy shop) dedicated to non-traditional homemaking. I have, after all ,inherited her pearl handled pistol, not every lady knows how to use one.

The influence: The second strong lady who has put me on the EmQ path is undoubtedly Milane, the founder of The Book Works in Del Mar, CA and the woman who was kind enough to rent me a room in her house when I was a struggling bookseller in San Diego county. The trade I made for living in Milane’s house was not a bad one, every day when I walked from my room to my bathroom after getting dressed, Milane would make a comment about my outfit. Approval if I had gotten it right or a small change that might be necessary if I was wrong. A reminder that presenting yourself in the best possible light despite the situation was always important.

Milane also showed me what a real hostess needed to know. Always using the right glass for the right drink, red wine, white wine, G&T’s. Being prepared for any occasion with a few pieces of good cheese and a few bottles of good booze. And how to enjoy a Sunday afternoon in the gazebo reading the newspaper. Not to mention the ability to pick out a piece of Bauer pottery from across the room.

The philosophy: Combining what I have learned from these two ladies along with the many hours and too much money I have spent going to school, I have established a certain philosophy in life that includes the following:

1. Loving what you do is the most ecological thing you can do. If everyone discovered their passion and followed it headlong without a second thought to money or consequence, we would live in a much more beautiful world.

2. We have lost the true meaning of community. As the world has moved towards fast food and devotion to hated jobs, our homes have become escapes from community rather than a place to build it. Hospitality no longer means homemakers in lace aprons dressing to the nines for their husbands but we can still learn something from that culture and open our homes to others.

3. While the cultural revolution of the 1960s freed us from the confines of societal norms for apparel, we have taken this much too far. In 50 years, we have gone from a well-dressed society to one where it is normal to wear gym shorts to dinner. What we wear and how we present ourselves to the world is important and somewhere we have lost that lesson. It is with pride that I dress everyday with mindfulness.

4. And this is the one that I often lose track of. It’s really all about having fun. My dad didn’t inherit Aunt Queen’s pristine set of china, he inherited her spoon with the fly on it. Milane doesn’t entertain to impress her husband’s colleagues. It’s about having a good time. Drinking too much wine while making dinner. Sharing a life with good friends.

So even when it feels like I’m just posting some recipe I made for dinner or some sewing project, this is really what I’m trying to accomplish, not just in my writing, but also in my life.

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Apr 18

The Journey Continues- AmeriCorps NCCC- Charleston, SC

Categories:

EmelinaQueen

by Christina

Last week I began chronicling the journey that has brought me to Flagstaff and into the process of buying a house and settling down. This is the second entry in that series.

Like most college graduates, I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do when I graduated, so in the Spring of my final year, I applied to AmeriCorps*NCCC. NCCC is a 10-month traveling service program funded by the government for 18-24 year olds. I finished my last class in the beginning of August and moved to Charleston, SC at the end of September.

When I think back on it now, the amount of stuff I traveled to SC with was ridiculous. While we were each provided a room in some retired Naval barracks, only about 25% of our time was actually spent in those rooms. The Charleston campus served the Southern region and most of each teams projects would send them into those states for extended periods of time. I also took way too many clothes for a program that provides uniforms and requires you to wear them.

Then, as now, the way my space looks and feels is incredibly important to me. Just as we have made our tiny apartment ours even knowing that it is only a temporary accommodation, it was also important to me to create a space for myself in AmeriCorps.

Not only did I decorate the inside of my AmeriCorps dorm room, the door also became a landing place for a years worth of collected junk

my AmeriCorps dorm room

While I do feel silly about dragging so many photos and artworks with me, it in some ways makes sense. We wouldn’t judge someone for taking along their favorite music or books, why do we view design and fashion differently?Even I can admit to making that distinction. A gray t-shirt and khaki pants is not the most flattering of outfits, yet there were a few girls in the corps who paired them with lots of makeup and cute shoes. To me this seemed ridiculous, yet to them it was normal. If this is how a person chooses to express themselves who am I to judge them?

My roommate in AmeriCorps did not feel quite the same way about decorating as I did and made do with her floral bedspread, but she didn’t seem to have much issue with my mostly nude magazine clippings of Brad Pitt. Again, I feel like the style I chose for this space is pretty juvenile, just a step up from the celebrity encrusted ceiling of my high school bedroom, but the space was mine and it represents a lot of good times.

I keep coming back to the concept of community as I think about establishing myself in one city. My AmeriCorps team, Red 3, represents the first taste of that kind of true community. Those 10 people loved me for who I was, even when I tried a bit too hard, something I’ve always been guilty of. This was my first opportunity to really leave the small town mentality of my hometown and of Kansas State, which may be a large university but is mainly made up of small town Kansas kids including about a third of my graduating high school class.

The problem with the community I created in AmeriCorps is that it revolves around people, not a place. Many of my teammates remain some of my best friends, yet we live all across the US, seeing one another once or twice a year. They gave me hope that I wouldn’t always be the weird kid and the gift of true friendship, but when the year ended, I was once again in a place with no close community.

Red 3 after the first month of AmeriCorps NCCC, I'm on the top row all the way to the right with no hair

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Apr 14

It’s not really that big of a deal, but it is to me.

Categories:

EmelinaQueen, The Used Life

by Christina

I started writing a blog post a few days ago that sought to chronicle all of the places that I have lived over the past 8 years. While I might be the queen of lists, that was far too long to fit into one blog posts. In the meantime, I have worked to finalize the contract on the house, spent way too much money on stuff for the house and made progress toward making things happen here in town.

just a few of this weeks thrift shop finds

Buying a house has really inspired a shift in my state of mind. I feel like I might actually stay in one place for once (even the 6 inches of snow on the ground in April can’t scare me away!). Any work that I put into relationships or starting some creative projects won’t be immediately wasted by a move to a new location. All of the time I’ve spent traveling and going to school, generally preparing for life, might transition into actually being life, finally!

The cool part about all of this is that the same seedlings that seemed to sprout in other locales seem to be blossoming here as well. A good sign that I have finally distilled my interests and desires to a place that has remained consistent over the last few years. More details on those seedlings as they continue to sprout. Just as this snow might kill some early spring buds (but hopefully not the apple trees at the new house), I don’t want to let the buds grow to high until the weather gets a bit better.

And without further ado, join me in reminiscing on the journey that has brought me here, to this place, to this life.

I know that millions of people buy houses. I even know for a fact that two of my cousins have bought houses in the last year, Thomas’ sister and her husband (I should just start calling them my sister and brother-in-law) just went for it. Maybe I’m just a more vocal person than they are, I need to process verbally, or maybe I’m just on Facebook more than they are. Or maybe this is a huge deal for me, not just because it’s a lot of money and a big commitment but a symbol of an epic change in how I live my life. In the last eight years, I have lived all over the country in a wide variety of living conditions, this doesn’t lead me to worry that I won’t be able to adapt to a more sedentary life, in fact it excites me to be building community and making commitments to relationships that I have avoided over the last few years. I think I have been ready for this moment for awhile and am totally stoked for it to be happening. So here is a rundown of the last 8 years of living spaces and the adventures that ensued just as a bit of a reminder as to why a house, at least for me, is such a huge deal.

As many journeys do, this one started in college. After one abominable semester in the dorms at K-State, I had the opportunity to move into a 2 bedroom, 2 bath duplex a block from Kansas. I shared a room with Cassie, a fellow Ottawa High School graduate and  a good friend of my brother’s, the other room was occupied by my brother’s preschool girlfriend, Liza, and a friend of hers from Clay Center, Erin. Kansas is a small state filled with small towns so even though we moved to Ottawa when I was 8, somehow we all managed to find each other again. Our rent was $157.50 each.

My personal design sense definitely started to develop here. My mom and dad bought me a cool mid century bed room set, black lacquer with white nobs and white tops and I combined those with a pair of green globe lamps and pink accents. It definitely wasn’t mature, but it had started. I spent all of Thursday combing the house for the disc with my pictures from college on it, and sadly, was unable to find it. So I cannot illustrate the awesomeness that was McCain Ln.

A lot of growing up happened in that house. Plenty of boys came through, friendships were made, homework was mostly done, epic pranks were played, fights were had. We even spent one memorable New Year’s Eve on the porch smoking our first and pretty much last cigars and cigarettes (I guess I speak for myself here). We all grew and changed over the two year’s that we lived in that house, the final summer was a bit lonely as I was left with a sub-leaser and Erin’s brother, Chris, who lived in the other half of the duplex. But times had changed, I was graduating and the other girls were finding new and different living arrangements more attuned to their social circles and interests. But they will always be part of something epic. A girl’s first apartment will never be forgotten.

the girls of McCain Ln. (I'm on top, L to R, Erin, Cassie and Liza)

 

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Apr 06

I’ve Been Found Out! (and we’re buying a house)

Categories:

EmelinaQueen, Metablogging

by Christina

Ack!

I left swimming with my charge this afternoon only to find a yellow slip of paper tucked beneath my windshield wipers. I swiped it up thinking it was a flyer for some event happening at the high school, but no, written across it was emelinaqueen. It could only be one person, “Ira Glass”-dad. Not the real Ira Glass, although that would be awesome, just a lookalike who comes to pick up his kids from swimming and the first of the swim parents to not shun my under thirty-ness. Somehow the rest of them seem to think I am an unfit mother who had my kid too young or can’t figure why the hell I’m at their kids swim practice. (The rest of them are slowly coming around.) Anyway, it turns out that “Ira Glass” and his wife are like Thomas and I transported 15 years into the future, so we talk while we wait for the girls to take FOREVER in the showers. (Why does it take 9 year olds half an hour to shower and change?) I told him about the blog but refused to give him the name of it. Apparently, the interwebs has betrayed me yet again.

Why wouldn’t I give him the web address you may ask. Isn’t that what all bloggers want, more readers. Well, yes, but since I started trying to make a go of this blogging bit, what I imagine in my head, and what ends up on the page are not the same thing. I can’t seem to stay focused on one topic, or even a short series of topics, (if you think this blog is all over the map, you should try being inside my head). This whole idea of cohesiveness and branding just doesn’t seem to be working out for me.

So, I write when I feel like it for the 3 people who stop by and read. It makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something. But, I don’t know how I feel about ranting for people who I have to hang out with on the bleachers twice a week. When I was in living in San Diego and I set up my MySpace page I occasionally posted my thinking and Dr. Dr. Dave (another acquaintance who likes to analyze my life, rather like “Ira Glass”) made some scathing remark about my stream of consciousness existential blatherings and I have been quite sheepish since.

I guess this means that I should put some more effort into this and actually build a cohesive thought process. Which may come easier now that we’ve had an offer accepted on a house. I suppose that some of the idea behind this blog is how to be a “homemaker” in the best sense of the word and making a home is much easier when you have one. And this couldn’t come soon enough, it gets so humid in this apartment when we do laundry that my poor Euphorbia caput madusae is growing powdery mildew that I can barely control. Let’s just hope nothing comes up in the inspection and we close at the end of May as planned.

Since this lovely house that we are buying is a Split Entry built in 1970, we are going to have plenty of opportunity to deck it out with some sweet thrift store finds, in fact, we already picked up some outdoor light fixtures that I’ll write about in the next few days.

So I’ve been found out, just another reason to make things happen.

 

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Mar 29

The Contents of My Freezer

Categories:

Wannabe Foodie

by Christina

I just went to the freezer to dig out the Ben and Jerry’s Blueberry Graham Greek Frozen Yogurt that I knew was hiding in there. Most flavors of B&J’s don’t stand a chance against Thomas, but I’ve learned that the secret is buying fruity ones or yogurt and he won’t touch it. It takes me a month to eat what he can in one sitting.

At first, I was distracted by the thought of eating the yogurt but then I grabbed a container that stood between me and my midday treat and couldn’t figure out what the blackish green substance was. Then I remembered, they are diced, roasted green chiles that I made and froze so that we wouldn’t have to buy the canned ones anymore. Next to that container was one containing a couple of cups of cooked barley. On top of that there were three bags of cooked, frozen beans and one of bread crumbs mixed with minced garlic and olive oil.

Wait a minute, what crazy hippie people moved into my house?

Oh, that would be me. I’ve been trying to be more conscientious about what we buy, not just because of what they put into canned/prepared stuff but also because of cost and the waste created. I do my best not to be obsessed with this kind of thing, there is still the aforementioned Ben and Jerry’s and usually a bag of potato chips and a few other guilty pleasures. But overall, we have greatly decreased the amount of processed foods that we bring into the house.

The beans are a new experiment and I hesitated to try cooking them without a pressure cooker at high altitude. I read an article that suggested adding a sprinkle of baking soda into the cooking water and they seem to be cooking just fine. I need to work on finding the simmer point with my crappy electric stove though, I made quite a black bean mess yesterday.

I’ve also been baking all of our loaf bread. I haven’t quite committed to buns and bagels, but we will probably get there someday. I have the sourdough starter that Rachel, Thomas’s sister, gave us at Thanksgiving and have been using this recipe with great success. I have altered the liquid to flour ratio a bit and use 2 cups whole wheat flour and a dash of sugar while decreasing the yeast, I get a great rise using just half of what it calls for. I’ve also been retarding the second rise in the fridge overnight to get a better sour flavor. I find all the kneading quite relaxing and the two loaves last us awhile if we keep them in the fridge.

So I guess I’m okay with being those hippie people who eat cooked beans and homemade bread, just never thought I would get here, especially without trying.

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