Jerusalem Jackson Greer's Blog, page 32

Wordy Wednesday: Morse, Lewis, Hathaway and Me

Here is the thing about me.I am fairly loyal.Maybe even crazy loyal sometimes. Okay, a lot of the time.In general I am a long-term relationship person.For instance, I stuck by Martha Stewart through the long haul.I think this is why I love things like holiday traditions and the liturgical calendar. They stick around.It's not like Christmas gets up one morning and decides to go for a gallon of milk and then never comes back.No, every year, no matter how you are feeling about Christmas, no matter how far away you have moved, or how big the chip on your shoulder has gotten, come December here comes Christmas, turning back up at it's usual time. 
I like that about it. 
So given all this loyalty stuff, it should come as no big surprise that I feel the same way about TV shows. I prefer ones that last a million seasons. 
American shows, for the most part, stink at this ideal of long-term commitment (not at all shockingly I reckon.) I can't tell you how many times I have fallen in love with a show, just for it to be canceled after one or two seasons.
British shows, particularly British Crime shows, well that is a other kettle of fish and chips. They can go on and on and on for decades. And if for some reason they stop for a few years, never fear, eventually they will make a sequel or a prequel or something somehow associated so that you don't feel bereft and abandoned.
Take for instance my current love affair with the detectives in Oxford.


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First I feel in-love with Lewis and Hathaway, and watch all of their Masterpiece Mystery episodes at least twice ( Inspector Lewis on Netflix and Hulu Plus)


When I ran out of those, I happily stumbled upon the series that started it all - featuring Inspector Morse (Hulu Plus) and a much younger Detective Lewis. I have yet to even scratch the surface of the 8 seasons.

But wait! That's not all! Now the Brits have gone one step further towards keeping me happy, by releasing a new series (PBS) called Endeavour, which is mostly about the young Detective Morse and a little about his superior Inspector Thursday.
You cannot imagine how happy this level of continuity brings me. And how it only re-enforces my belief that I live in the wrong country.
(Also, one does have to wonder after all these years, how so many people keep dying suspiciously in Oxford...Is there something in the water??)

Thank you for enduring this small example of my extreem nerdy-ness.  

At the Intersection {vol. 1}- Heather Hamilton of Life Made Lovely

Hello friends!
How are you?
I am fine.
Well I am tired, but what is new?
I have been all over the world this past weekend and we have had a bit of a scare with one of my grandmothers, but as of right now, things are holding steady.

This week is promising to be a busy one (one day I am going to learn!) but I am determined to face it with grace and love - and to find the goodness of God in everyone I meet.

I thought this would be a good time to kick-off a new series that I hope will become a regular feature around these parts. I am calling it At the Intersection, and it is all about how other gals out there -gals like me who are mothers, artist and followers of Christ-juggle all three areas of their lives at once. How they live at the intersection of art, faith, and motherhood.

I chose these three particular categories because they are the very three that I find pull on the same parts of my heart. All three demand of me the following:  time, creativity, the ability to listen, the ability to problem solve, and to think critically. And all three are rooted -should be rooted-in grace.

But instead of just listening to me talk about these ideas, I thought I would invite some friends into the conversation. To see if I was the only one who works to juggle all three, or if there might be others out there who face similar struggles, whose stories might shed a little light and provide a little encouragement for you and me.
I am also hoping that you, my most fab readers, will also offer encouragement to each of these lovely women, who, like you, are doing their best to live authentically in the present at the intersection of beauty and mess.

First up is Heather Hamilton of Life Made Lovely.
Welcome Heather!!


So, let's start with the basics, shall we?

Name   Heather Hamilton
Blog Name   Life Made Lovely
Art Form  Designer- web design and paper goods/interior design and photo styling
Kids Ages   Henry is 9 and Piper is 4.  My son Samuel passed away in 2007 when he was 6 weeks old.
Relationship Status  Married, to an extremely patient and encouraging man, for 12 years.
Other Job(s)besides blogging/creating:   I'm the VBS Director for our church.
Expression of Faith  'We are members of a Lutheran church in our town.
Where Do You Live?   We live in the desert southwest, in a college town.  We live in the first house we bought 12 years ago.
Okay, now let's dig a little deeper...
How did you find your creative niche? Was this something you have always done, or did you fall into it by accident?  I have always loved creating things, but I never would have guessed I'd be using the computer to do it.  Initially I just wanted to learn how to create a blog design for myself, but the more I learned the more I fell in love with this medium. I've now been a paid designer for 3 years and can hardly believe it!  


Where do you create? Office? Kitchen table?   We have a small spare bedroom that we were able to turn into a studio space for me.  It gets crazy hot in the summer and super cold in the winter, but I don't care.  To have my own space to fill with things that inspire me is something I am very grateful for.
Do you create best in solitude or in the middle of chaos?   Definitely in solitude!
How does your faith influence your creative process?  When my son passed away in 2007 I truly felt like my creativity died with him.  After months of feeling like I would never create anything ever again,  God showed me otherwise and what an explosion of JOY it was.  I had always thought that I was a creative person, but I let the world tell me whether I was an artist or not.  After losing Samuel, and feeling certain that I had lost my creative spark too, being able to create again was confirmation from God that I was doing what He made me to do.  Since that moment I have not stopped creating and have worked really hard to block the noise of the outside world.
How does that process influence or enrich your faith?  I feel the closest to God when I'm creating, so for me it's a very spiritual experience.  Before I begin working I always pray and ask God to guide my hands, so that I can create a design that lets His light shine.  Whether it's a blog design, a card, a sticker or a print I want to make sure that He is the one glorified. I want people to feel Love when they see my work.
Sometimes I feel as if writing, parenting, and the practicing my faith are all drawing from the same well inside me, that they tax the same part of my heart. This means that quite often I find that I have depleted all of my resources pouring into just one of the three, leaving the other two wanting.  Do you have this same issue, or is it just me?   What do you do to recharge, or refill the well…
In your creative process?   When I need to refill my creative well I seek out other creatives.  Through blogs, instagram and magazines I'm able to easily connect with inspiring creative women and be reminded that I'm not alone in this journey.
In your parenting?  I've definitely found that I need a little space sometimes.  Even just a few hours can make challenges feel less daunting to me.  Sometimes that means a night out, but when leaving the house isn't an option (which is most of the time), we put the kids to bed a little early so we can have time to recharge.
In the practicing of your faith?   I have to find quiet.  When life is the noisiest, which is usually when it's the busiest, I feel the furthest away from God and when that happens everything feels off.  If I can find some quiet then I usually find Him right there waiting for me.
Do you have any advice for other mom's out there who are also trying to learn how to live out their callings as artist, mothers and followers of Christ? What is something you wish someone had told you earlier on? Stop listening to the outside world and just focus on what God is telling you.  Use the gifts He gave you.  He created you to do this, he really did!
What are some specific challenges you are facing right now in all three of these areas?   Parenting, creating, and spending time with God are food for my soul.  I was born to do all three!  So often though, I feel like I'm not measuring up (with my business, with my kids activities, etc) and I'm not getting enough accomplished.  When that happens, the three things that are vital to my soul seem to get pushed to the back and my priorities get all disjointed.  I hate that I let the opinions of society weigh on my heart, especially when I know what I need!   I work hard to tune out the outside noise, but I'm definitely not successful at it all the time.  I won't give up the fight though, because I know that when I am focused on what matters the result is the unspeakable joy that only God can give.
How can I, and my readers, pray for you?   I would ask that you prayer for me to have renewed strength each day to block out the noise of the outside world, so that I can focus on God's voice and the truths He's placed on my heart.


Thanks so much to Heather for answering my questions and for being such a willing guinea pig for this first volume of  At the Intersection!

I am by no means a journalist so if there are questions you would like me to ask future interviewees please leave them in the comments on this post.

Also, if anything Heather said struck a chord in you, please say so! The great thing about blogging is that we can encourage each other, right her in this little online space, from wherever we are, no need to even put on make-up or brush our hair. So please, leave Heather some love in the comments!

xo
J

Home of the Free and the Brave, and US!

Here are some snaps of little bits of red, white, and blue scattered around our casa, our own personal home of the free and the brave.Sweet Man is there today (he has a gig tonight,) while the boys and I are at the great-grandparents.Coming here for the fourth has been a tradition since I moved back to Arkansas to go to college.In all the years since (too many to admit to,) we have only missed a handful of these gatherings, maybe even less.Some of the festivities have changed as we have changed (the fried chicken has been traded in for hot dogs and hamburgers, we do sparklers at home instead of going to the firework display.)Some remain the same (being lazy on the screened in porch, going to the pool, Maw's potato salad.)Some are new (ultimate Monopoly off and on all day, John Adams marathon.)
Regardless of what is new or what is different, I adore being here. Being with my family, continuing this tradition, celebrating the quest for liberty and freedom at the very nexus of my family roots. Somehow it seems the very best of all worlds.
I hope wherever you are today you are able to enjoy and celebrate life, love, and the pursuit of liberty and justice for all!
peace and blessings-J

Tickeled Pink for the 4th of July

(bunting shown is from Chapter 17 of A Homemade Year)
I don't know about your creative process, but part of the way mine works is that themes-words, colors, patterns, ideas- tend to emerge all on their own, often without any conscious push from me.They just seem to all bubble to the top before I can even decide what I want to do.
And that is exactly what happened way back in May during my visit to the Hobnob Market.Once I got my tent decorated and pulled out all the supplies (which had all been hurriedly packed with very little planning) for each of the demonstrations a very obvious theme emerged:
Red, White, Aqua and Pink- alternative Independence Day color scheme.


Several of the projects I made where from my book, for instance this Doily and Hankie Bunting (found in Chapter 20,) but because I was having to demonstrate how I made them I had to grab all new supplies before leaving home.
Apparently I already had the 4th of July on the brain, because everything I grabbed was some shade of red, pink, aqua or white.


Even Jeanetta was feeling the patriotic color scheme love subliminally, because she chose all of these fabrics from my stash when she was helping me get ready for the trip.
It did not occur to either of us until the Patchwork Wreath (Chapter 21) was complete that it was a cheery shabby-chic-ish take on the standard colors of Old Glory herself.



But it was not just projects from the book that displayed this color scheme. Oh no.
Even my mini- "summer entertaining" - demonstration was showing off this new softer patriotic look.



While I was showing shoppers how to mix and match vintage (Melamie and Tupperware,) thrifted (gingham plates,) new (red plates from Walmart,) and disposable (plasticware,) picnic items for a fun summer table setting (with the help of some washi tape love!) I realized that once again, the same color pallet was emerging.


Even my Southern Voodoo Punch couldn't escape the thematic love.


Or the washi tape.
How the daughter of a Southern Baptist preacher came to have her own signature adult beverage is something just shy of scandalous. Oh well.It sure is yummy.
Southern Voodoo Punchto make mix together:1 Bottle of Boones Farm Fuzzy Navel, chilled1 Bottle of Sparking Wine or Champagne, chilled64 Oz of Pink Grapefruit Juice (low sugar,) chilled
Serve cold. And with caution.This stuff is like southern gals, it's pretty, sweet and it can wallop a mean punch.


To balance all the pink and aqua we had a lovely bouquet of sunflowers (provided by our Hobnob Host,) which was just perfect. I think sunflowers are the most perfect summertime flower, and they always look great with any 4th of July decor. Especially the pink and aqua kind.

So there you have it.A little last minute bit of 4th of July entertaining ideas and a small glimpse into my creative (and often chaotic) process.
Much love,J

Forever In Peace May She Wave

I beleive in working towards peace. Always.
I believe in the pursuit of a life filled with liberty and justice for all.
I am grateful for the sacrifices that members of the American armed forces have made in service to my country.
I think war is awful.
I do not think it can always be avoided.
I am probably what is called "a damn moderate."
I tend to see both sides of an issue. I tend to feel bad for everyone (another reason why I am not good as a sports fan. That team that lost? Those are someones babies!)
(This both drives Sweet Man crazy, and endures me to him a bit. I think.)


I am grateful to have been born into this country.
Everytime I travel around it I am blow away by both it's size and how regional things still are. Even in the year 2013, Dr. Pepper is not a staple beverage everywhere. Some of us say Coke and some of us say Soda and some of say Pop.
I think the American people are amazing.
I think how we came to be a nation is inspiring and some of it is terribly sad.
Sometimes decisions made by our government leaders (on all sides of the aisle) makes me want to pull my hair out.Or move to remote forign location where there is no internet.
(But then I wouldn't have you, and that would not be good. At all.)
I think I can love my country and want it to do better. (Sometimes a lot better even.)
I do not think that these two things - my love and my critisim- have to be mutually exclusive.
So this why I have to balance the red, white, and blue explosion on my porch with a little peace talk on the freshly hung chalkboard.
They are both the truth.

I heard something on the NPR today about Nelson Mandela. About how he was always much more interested in talking about what people have in common, than about what seperates them.They also talked about how his goal was growth and transformation.You know I am a sucker for those two words.They seriously make me swoon.
I don't know about you, but I think if we as a country could just focus on the things that we all love- like extra huge rosettes and bunting- we would all get along so much better. Don't you think?
That is why I am doing my part to unify our country once again through excessive holiday decorating.


It all begain when I cleaned out the hall closet and I found years worth of $1 store decorations that I had never used. Mostly because we are rarely home for the 4th. And because I forget that I bought them. And because it is usually so blasted hot that I hate to spend any extra time outdoors doing things like hanging bunting.

Apparently these rosette/fans came from Target (I only know this because I saw them on Sarah's blog and remembered that I had some myself) but  they were flimsy as all get-out. So I rustled around in my old banner making supplies and found some die-cut shapes that I could add to help stablize them (along with a healthy amount of hot glue.)

I really wanted to incorperate the Patchwork Wreath (Chapter 21 in A Homemade Year) I made earlier this summer, so I attached this fan to the middle of it. I think the pinks and the aquas help to soften the bright reds and deep navys traditionally associated with decorations for the 4th.

And then I added my wish for peace.
Because that is what I want for this land that I love.

(Did I mention I am als loving my chalkboard? So. Much. And yes, I was inspired by Meg's backporch chalkboard.)


So there you have it. How a damn moderate like me decorates for Independance Day.
Peace,J

our version of a summer list

I don't know if I have ever explained my weird schedule to you properly.
If I have, just cruise over the next few sentences.
I work at a pretty-much year round school. The kids get between 5-6  weeks off in the summer and I get between 3 and 4 weeks, depending on how the pie is sliced. (And just so we are clear, I am very grateful for these weeks and all the other breaks we get during the year. I know that am blessed to be on the boys schedule and to get any time off at all!)
Last summer it leaned more towards 4 weeks, and they were fairly luxurious weeks at that. We went on vacation, I laid around in the pool, drank in the scent of the gardenias in the backyard (like the one above) and lots of cold fruity drinks. I slept in, I read, I did a whole lot of nothing. It was lovely.


This summer my break was more like 3 weeks, with the Illinois trip and Camp as the bookends.
In between these two trips I helped my in-laws get read to move and  tried to catch up on projects around the house that have been piling up since last summer ( if you are new here, let me give you a quick recap. The past 18 months of my life included:  finishing edits for the book, finishing the photo shoots, putting our house up for sale, almost selling the house, not selling the house, taking the house off the market, breaking my foot, releasing the book, promoting the book. Oh, and working full time. Are you tired? Cause I was.)  I am not quite finished with everything I wanted to get done but I have put a serious dent in my goal of de-piling my house. Bins have been (finally!) put in the attic, closets have been cleaned, I can see floor in my bedroom again. Between the trips and the projects, my break has been eventful and productive, but not exactly the stuff of relaxing vacations.

Today I will ease back into work.
In two weeks the kids go back to school.
Next week they will be at Camp Meme, and we will be in full countdown-till-the-first-day mode at work.
I know that our little family will still get to enjoy summer through Labor Day thanks to the longer days and warmer temperatures, but for most part our summer break is winding down.
So instead of a Summer Bucket List, I made us a list for this 4th of July week- a list full of activities we can do in the evenings, on the holiday itself or over the weekend following- in hopes that we can squeeze all the summer vacay fun possible out of it.

Yesterday we marked Eat Fried Chicken and Decorate (more on that soon...) off the list.

I am hoping that tonight we can start on Watch John Adams and Make Ice Cream.




********************************In other news, we have FINALLY figured out what sort of sheep dog Maizy is - she is a Hungarian Sheep Dog, also known as a Komondor!
Traditionally Komondor's hair grows floor length and becomes chorded (or dreadlocked) naturally.
I am not sure we want to go that route with our girl and am wondering if there are any Komondor owners out there that have advice on hair care? I sure do love her fuzzy!

where i have been

For the past week I have been up on the mountain top with one hundred and three junior high campers (including Wylie,)  twenty-seven  hard working college and high school age counselors and interns, half a dozen kitchen staff who made meals too yummy to be called camp food, a fun and pun loving  (and exceedingly kind and generous) priest, two dedicated camp directors, one great friend,  four dogs, countless spiders, no high-speed internet or wireless access and Miles Greer himself.
The camp took place at Camp Mitchell, and our theme was #OccupyHope.On Sunday we anchored ourselves to the mountain and begin the #OccupyHope movement that carried us through the week.We yarn bombed (=finding hope in unexpexcted places)We chalk-graffiti-ed giant blackboards (=speaking out for hope)Played a rousing (and wet) game of Capture the Hope (=our version of Capture the Flag, an example of not giving in to hopelessness, fighting on for hope.)We learned how to work together as teams to overcome obstacles-and bring hope to others.We raised the flag of Hope over camp.We wrote messages of hope on The Van in order to encourage those in our homeless communities to not give up hope, and to urge all those who see The Van to help care for our neighbors.We practiced seeking hope when all seems lost.We prayed, sang, shared, and celebrated the  HOPE that Christ has given us at every turn.We laughed, cried, played, ate, slept (a little) and sweated (a lot) together day after day.We shared the sharpie love and sang a ton of  really silly songs. We went on night missions to the pool, composted our scraps, weeded the garden, drove a yarn-bombed golf cart, walked in the wildflowers and ate way too many late night snacks. I got to watch my boys blossom in new ways, I completely forgot all about blog statistics and book sales, got to share my love of camp life with Sweet Man and felt God's abiding love wash over me time and time again, as a hundred and forty adults and campers sang these words, in the tradition of Taize, as we went to bed.
Bless the Lord my soul, and bless God's holy name Bless the Lord my soul, who leads me into life.  (psalm 104:1)

I seriously think I could live at camp. (But I would need to fix the wireless issue.)

big sky desires

Looking back over the remaining pictures from the Illinois trip, I keep coming across pictures that are supposed to be of something else, but really just end up being about the gigantic sky that hangs over that part of the country.
 In Illinois, the road stretched straight ahead into infinity. Big sky above, Fields on either sides. Everything is so open. If people in Illinois have secrets, they must be hidden indoors, because there is no hiding anything outside where everyone can see every bit of your business. The land is too flat to provide cover, everything is exposed and in response everything is also extremely neat, tidy.
By contrast, most of Arkansas, at least the part I inhabit and travel around, is a curvaceous and lush. Thick, overgrown vegetation lines our highways, a curve in the road will suddenly give way to a breathtakingly high ridge that over looks the greenest valleys. Taking a road trip in Arkansas will take you through a wide variety of terrain-from the flat, stark delta, to the mysterious twist and turns of the Ozarks. There are plenty of secrets around these parts hidden in along the rivers bend, in the twist of a dirt road, behind a crevice on the side of a rocky incline. In this part of the South this land -and the weather- is unpredictable at best and a little too much of everything all the time; Too green, too curvy, too hot, too messy, too wet, too dry.



Lately I have been chewing on the idea of desires.  Not the "I want to run away with Gerard Butler" kind of desires. And not "I want a bigger house" sort either.   I mean  bottom of the heart, unspoken, perhaps even unrealistic, desires. What I affectionately -and occasionally frustratingly- call: crazy dreams.  And I have been wondering what it might look like to name those desires out loud. To stop laughing them off as crazy. To own up to them.  To let them float up, and out into the world, like dandelion seeds caught on the wind. 

To see if once they are released,  into the huge expanse of sky and possibility,  if they will land and take root, or if they will just sail away forever. I wonder what will remain of them at the end of the day, after the breeze has settled and the sun has set and the cicada's sing their summer song.


Some of these desires seem impossibly lush, curvy, and wild. The road, in the wake of them,  does not appear straight and obvious. There could be untold ridges and valleys and overgrown vegetation all along the way. Currently I will only acknowledge them in half-whispers to myself in the twilight of the evening. The extravagance of their existence both excites and repels me, like skinny dipping in the lake at night. The temptation great, the depth a bit murky.

I worry that I will sound silly, selfish, ungrateful, foolhardy, discontent, if I talk about them. If I give them proper names, if I release them into the world.

(And oh how I loathe the thought that I will sound ungrateful or discontent. And why is that that I think I have to choose? Where did I get that idea that desire and gratefulness are incompatible? That following  inspiration, a thought, a dream, a calling that does not come with a clear itinerary means I am discontented where I am? Isn't this the very intersection of beauty and mess?)




While we were in Illinois we kept seeing all these huge, massive windmills, and you might say that my mother became enamoured, even, a tad bit obsessed with them.  Every time one came into view, we would both exclaim "there's another one!" as if we had discovered gold.
And then we saw the farm.


Sunday morning, an eight hour drive ahead of us, we did the only thing that made sense.
We took an unscheduled detour off the interstate and onto a country highway in search of a way to get as close as possible to the Windmills, landing eventually, serendipitously in a cornfield behind an elementary school full of windmills. Abandoning the car, and ignoring the No Trespassing signs, we got as close as we could without tromping on Mr. McGreggor's fields to the ginormous beast. We may not have been close enough to touch them, but we were close enough to hear the deep baritone of their rotation, sing it's song: Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
Going through the pictures I was struck by the role desire played in all of this. The idea of windmills in cornfields, in harnessing the wind, in creating new types of energy.Someone had the desire to see these ideas come to fruition. Someone said out loud, "What if we put huge windmills in the middle of cornfields? Wouldn't that be something?"And now, perhaps a decade or two later, there are windmills in cornfields, and my mother says to me "What if we could get really close to those windmills? Wouldn't that be something?"



Later, after the windmills, came the rainbows. Two huge ones that followed us for miles along the interstate, bridging all the sky in between the lush green ground and the thick full clouds.
I had to fight the urge to abandon our chosen path and chase them down.
To see if they too ended in a corn field somewhere down the road.

And then after the rainbows were the sunsets, amazing big sky sunsets.

And I am right back where I started, thinking about these things called desires, and what to do with mine.

In the end, (or perhaps this is the beginning?) I decide that the only sane thing to do is to release them. Name them. Share them.
It is a humbling and vulnerable position to take.
There is no magic formula after all.
No promise that these desires will take root and flourish into anything more than seeds on the wind.
I do not believe in that sort of voodoo Christianity.
I do not believe that my action will force a reaction from He Who Is Holy; That God and I are playing some sort of elaborate game of tic-tac-toe, the only options being win, lose, or draw.
Nor is this is some sort of entitlement card I am playing, like my children after they have completed a common daily chore "Look! I obeyed! No fuss! Now, what is my reward?"

But to leave them- these crazy dreams, these unrealistic desires,  in the safe, dark, place I have been keeping them, would mean to continue a distorted sort of  self-protection; a walling off of my heart.
It would mean willfully choosing to silence the call I feel - have always felt-  deep in bones, (a call that it is as much a part of me as my breath.) And in turn abdicating my unique way of living on this earth as part of God's creation, and all of the wildness and wonder thereof.
And somehow, that just no longer seems like an acceptable way to live.


as always, cheers and blessings,
-J

Grateful Mobile and a Giveaway!

I am excited to announce that this summer we will be doing a few more book related blog tours and giveaways. Hurrah!
To get things started, I am blogging about how to make a "Grateful Mobile" over on the At Home in Arkansas blog today.
This craft did not get as many pictures in the book, so I thought I would show it off a little bit, and give people a chance to ask questions about how it was made, or to clarify some of the directions.Also, this is a pretty simple craft that is a good fit for hot summer days when you are looking for a way to keep little hands busy. 

At Home in Arkansas will also be giving away one copy of A Homemade Year to a lucky reader, so get on over there today and enter!  The book is full of summer and fall crafts and party ideas in addition to all the Christmastide and Easter celebrations.
So get on over to the At Home blog and check it all out. 

Urban Cottage Farm Update

Things this past Spring were a little bit slow going in regards to our little Urban Cottage Farm. But this weekend we did a lot of catching up.

For Father's Day, all Sweet Man really wanted was for us all to take time to work in the garden together. So that is what we did.It has taken me 16 years of marriage to realize that Nathan would rather do chores- like gardening, cooking, and grocery shopping- as a family, and risk taking twice as long to get the chore done than to divide and conquer - getting multiple chores done in the same time frame. (The latter being my preferred choice of course.) This was a bit of a funny realization because we tend to label me as the relational one and him as the loner.Turns out that I am just more social. Which is not really the same thing as being relational.It is an odd little discovery that we are still sorting through and is changing some of the dynamics in our home- for the better.


But back to the garden. First we weeded our very-overgrown garden bed.And then we got down and dirty, finally planting our Edamame seeds from my Bean 2 Blog day

I am not a natural-born gardener, but when it came to planting the edamame I knew my stuff.
We dug our rows, added our fertilizer and planted those seeds.
Now we will just have to see if they actually come up!


 We also tended to our tomato plants, which we grew from seeds that my parents gave us for Christmas.
In the beginning these plants were labeled, but when we transplanted several of the varieties from the starter boxes to the garden, we forgot to transplant the label sticks as well.
Will be interesting to see what variety of tomatoes we end up with.


Every farm -even Urban Cottage Farms- need a truck. And we finally found the perfect one for us.

A 1986 Ford 150. Yeah baby.I heart every rough and tumble part of this big white hunk of lovin.Some people dream of sports cars.Some people dream of luxary sedans or oversized SUV's or tinsy tiny British toy cars.Me? I dream of a big, old, slightly-worn-out, boxy pick-up trucks.

A million years ago, when I thought I was going to go to graduate school and study Southern Women's History, I had daydreams about teaching at a small southern university, dressed in denim overalls, arriving each day on campus in an old pick-up truck.Well, I am not a university professor (or writer-in-residence, oh the dream!) but I do have the overalls and the truck. Two outta three ain't bad.And let me tell you, driving her is even more fun than I could have ever imagined.

Even though we bought the truck primarily to use in practical ways (trips to Lowe's, deer camp, to haul loads of mulch,)  I might also have big plans to take her garage sale-ing on Saturdays,  to the lake for picnics in the back, and maybe even a photo shoot or two... Just maybe. Could you blame me?



The final update is this windmill in the front yard. My in-laws recently moved to Louisiana (which I am in a bit of denial about,) and we inherited lots of goodies they didn't feel like hauling across the state line. This windmill was one of them. It is a little too rustic for my taste like it is, so I am planning on painting it.
 Right now I am divided between red (like our front door) or sky blue (like our mail box) or just going rogue and painting the whole thing mustard. (Please cast your vote in the comments!)

So that is what is happening around our little Urban Cottage Farm.
What is happening in your neck of the woods?