Nowadays the blog is in two different places*, and I feel like I'm in more places than that. You would think that being in more than one place would mean getting more done, but, just as the research on "multi-tasking" suggests that multi-taskers don't actually get more done or do things any better than single-taskers, being all over the place just means I'm not getting a whole lot done on a whole lot of projects.
Take the sweater project, for instance. The weather around here, as you may know, has been abysmal. Day after day of cloudy, wet, freezing cold. As good a time as any to try to live up to my resolution to finally knit a sweater I might actually wear (even if only for yard work). So far I have a back, a front, and one and a quarter sleeves.
I'm encouraged, even if the most aggravating part still lies ahead. See, once you knit all these pieces, you must "sew" them together with yarn and a hypothetically invisible stitch that connects tiny horizontal yarn bits from one piece to tiny horizontal yarn bits on the other piece. This sounds quite easy, and the photos make it look quite easy; but somehow I persist in making things out of utterly aggravating yarn that refuses to cooperate with the sewing segment of the operation. I'd start a blog called "The Unruly Knitter," but I am neither knitter enough nor blogger enough to pull it off.
Then there's the ongoing kitchen project. I'm thrilled with the stainless steel backsplash, don't get me wrong. When I'm facing the living room, our kitchen seems absolutely up to date. Unfortunately, sometimes I have to face the other direction and confront aspects of our kitchen that remain steadfastly loyal to the 1990's. What to do?
Sadly, even the finished part isn't really finished: our most brilliant designer friend has informed me that I must get rid of the yellow color behind the stove ASAP. This will entail the distraction of a visit to Benjamin Moore tomorrow morning with the last remaining quarter cup of the pervious homeowner's darkish greenish paint from the living room to see if they can match it for me. Unless of course I want to paint the offending wall charcoal to match the tile grout, leading to a complete re-thinking of the entire house's palette. What to do?
I'll think about that tomorrow. Today I'm finishing up the wash-all-the-bottles-from-the-spicerack-you-never-use-so-you-can-bring-it-to-Goodwill project. Now there's a use of time and energy that will surely set the world right in its orbit once again.
The spice rack project pushed its way to the head of the agenda because we needed a countertop microwave to replace the one we took down from over the stove when Floyd put in the vent hood. Why must even the smallest microwave be as big and unwieldy as an ocean liner when you are trying to find an inconspicuous place for it in the kitchen? It didn't thrill me to give it space on my baking counter, but it's the only location I didn't hate. Sometimes that's the best an object can do.
I'm not altogether sure how the Junk Drawer Project insinuated itself into the midst of all this, but there you have it. I think I was thinking about losing all that cabinet space in the kitchen and believing I might solve at least a tiny portion of the storage problem by emptying the kitchen junk drawer and putting that space to better use. A household with only two people and one dog cannot possibly need two junk drawers, can it? (Okay, three if you count the closet drawer with all the orphaned electronics and mysterious power cords. Okay, four if you want to include the guest room where I've stashed things like Vernon plates and dead laptops.)
If it has compartments, it's hardly even a junk drawer any more! But there went about two Saturday hours, right there. How???
Meanwhile, I've been working on some actual work stuff. The end of a semester obviously entails turning my grades in on time, which is far more onerous a task for my TA's than it is for me. Finally checked that one off the list; all I need do now is wait for the complaints and a few grade changes.
The more challenging work-related task has been preparing for a three-hour workshop I was somehow hoodwinked into giving the staff over at the university's Health Services three days from now. I can't fathom teaching anything for three hours, let alone to actual professionals seeking "continuing education" credit. It has cost me many hours of Candy Crush Saga, I can tell you that, and all I have to show for it is an outline and a sketchy plan to fool them into a brief chat and eleven or twelve bathroom breaks.
Today is Sunday December 15th, and I wish to go on record as saying that the sun has been with us all day and appreciated every single minute. There are only just so many miles I can bike in the living room, even if I do have every episode of "Prime Suspect" on Netflix to entertain me the whole way.
Travis and I took a walk in the woods this morning and it was just lovely, except that the trails are still amazingly muddy. I had my camera but didn't deem anything really photo-worthy; it was just a treat to be outside under a cool blue sky.
When we got home I tackled the chore of clearing the truly dead stuff out of the sidewalk garden and the bench corner. Lots of plants like to be cut right to the ground, from the Texas hibiscus to the inland sea oats and a ton of salvia. It's hard to be cheered by a landscape that looks like it has melted, or browned to a crisp.
Even though it was sad, my favorite moment was cutting back the Mexican mint marigold and burying my face in that most scrumptious foliage as I jammed it into the leaf bag. If you've never savored that licorice smell, you are really missing out. Cutting back some of the rosemary was no slouch in the fragrance department either. Yummers.
I did my best to bear up in the face of roughly five hundred squats as I trimmed and cut back and cleared leaves. My quads are not going to be happy with me tomorrow, I fear, but seven leaf bags sit at the curb as a testament to my endurance. It's also an excellent opportunity to work among the cactus, agave, and yucca in thick pants, an old Wesleyan sweatshirt made of armor-grade cotton, and gloves. I'm not often that well protected doing yard work, and I wanted to take advantage. (In summer I just put on jeans and a welding shirt and hope for the best.)
Plenty of the yard plants remain green and happy, and they look so much better when not surrounded by wimpy summer things that can't endure a night or two of freezing temperatures. It will be nice to actually be able to gain access to the little corner bench. It really is a good spot for sitting and spying on passers-by. Today as I worked a number of neighbors stopped by to chat, which is one of the nice parts about gardening. Paradoxically, it's right up there with the fact that when you're gardening, you don't have anyone bothering you or expecting you to check your e-mail.
Between bouts of yard work I decided to make mujadara to get me through the week, and bake up a galette while I was in the mood for kitchening. Nothing like lentils and brown rice to make you feel alive.
As far as the galette was concerned, I'd bought frozen blueberries on my last Costco trip with an eye to making a batch of hand pies for Floyd. He's been unable to buy any for weeks now, since Central Market likes to mess with your head by ceasing production of wildly popular goodies as soon as you are deeply addicted to them. Then I decided to go the easier route with the galette, which won't be winning any accolades from Martha Stewart. It leaked.
Oh well, you know what we do with inferior home baked goods at our house, don't you?
*Don't forget to check it out at http://unrulygardener.me
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