little green room

Goodnight Moon begins by describing the "great green room." Here's our little green room for our little guy, who is due any day, in June.

The corner cubbies are filled with books and treasures, including my stuffed teddy bear, "Bobby," and "Lambie," at top. My grandmother's miniature rocking horse completes the trio. 

The feeding, reading, rocking, and reclining corner. The photographs feature Iowa City and the Iowa countryside -- just one of the artistic contributions from the baby's aunts and uncles. (Others include a whimsical painted owl, an original poem, and a collage with Psalm 139.)

The curtains, crib, and changing table. I had to hunt a bit to find furniture low enough to accommodate my short height! I've gathered items from all different places, like twigs for a nest.

a tender harvest

The arugula and red lettuces have stretched out their delicate leaves as this dry spring makes its way toward summer. It is the time of simple salads—lemony oil or balsamic vinaigrette, creamy avocado, cucumbers. The days are long and I watch the light filter into different rooms at different times. There is much work to be done: there are weeds to pull, mulch to spread, and annuals to purchase and pot. But in a season of busyness my body slows down and requires me to do the same. It grants all its energy to nurturing the little one, its fragile project. With God’s good grace, he will arrive sometime between the peas and the green beans, just in time to welcome summer.

the in between times

It’s been a while since my last post (say bloggers the world over), but as my writing lapsed I savored some of life’s precious in between times. After the squirrels devoured the pumpkin, and the robins pecked at all the winterberries, the rhythms of the church calendar ushered our little household into the season of Advent. We celebrated Christ’s incarnation—the fully divine becoming fully human, in humanity’s humblest form. We joyously anticipated the kingdom to come—another lighted city.

The “now and not yet” of Advent took on a rich (very human) meaning as we encountered the many in between moments of expecting our first baby. There was a time of waiting to see if “it” was really there; a time of waiting to share the news; a time of waiting for sickness to subside; a time of waiting to feel the slightest flutter or kick; and, a time of waiting to find out whether the little shadow was a son or a daughter. 

Our son (!) still has a lot of growing to do before we meet him face-to-face in early June. In the coming months, my hope is that this short season will be more than just a time of busyness. Yes, there are windows that need replacing, compost that needs turning, and books piled high next to the television. I just hope I can endeavor to pursue prayer with the same focus as decorating the nursery.

fresh feasts

We have enjoyed some delicious food moments this summer, with family, and with friends. As promised, here are some snapshots:

My brother-in-law and his wife drove out from Illinois, by way of Maryland. They came bearing Amish eggs from just a couple hours north. We wasted no time and enjoyed them for breakfast. With bacon, of course.

The Sunday farmers market is just three blocks up the street! In South Arlington it's a little more relaxed than the hyper-foodie version in the northern part of town. I enjoy the relaxed rhythm of walking over each Sunday.

I visited my friend's mother out in a more rural part of the Virginia suburbs. She has a blueberry patch, and the pickin' was good! I took about ten pictures of the blueberries; I'll spare you and just include this one.

Though I might be satisfied just watching plants grow, it is nice when they do produce something edible. This is one of the earlier bean and cherry tomato harvests, ready to be shared with a friend. And I lied ... the blueberries found their way into this picture, too.

Plated salads, ready for a dinner party. Featuring arugula and basil from the garden. The red pepper is probably from Mexico. I made peace with that.

With help from the nearby Thai market, we attempted spring rolls with some shrimp and home-grown basil. Success!

The dining room table served as the beverage bar for our open house.

Happy Independence Day!

potting party

Living in northern Virginia, I've discovered the season of spring anew. The seasons (usually) shift gradually here, and I relish the chance to watch flowers bloom and fade in succession as the weather warms. Now some of those flowers are in my own backyard; though the tulips are long gone and the azaleas have withered, the irises and spiderwort are gracing the green with spots of purple. The pond foliage has filled in dramatically (see below).

Last weekend my sister and brother-in-law visited -- our first overnight guests! We sat on the patio, dropped by the farmers market, and planted half a dozen containers with plants I found at Merrifield Garden Center. My brother-in-law snapped a few photos:

Both the watering can and the pink & orange begonia were housewarming gifts from friends nearby. Now I think of them, and my sister, whenever we sit outside.

peace and pasta

For Christmas, Wes gave me the pasta maker attachments for our KitchenAid. I was so excited to tell Katie about our new project, but she warned me: “Don’t try to make pasta together … it will lead to a fight!” She gave examples from her own experience and a mutual friend’s. (You know who you are.)

But her warning came too late. We mixed, rolled, and cut homemade pasta last week – in peace. I think the difference might be having a husband content to be an attentive sous-chef. And a sous-chef who’s willing to do the frustrating tasks: painstakingly separating the drying strands, cleaning the rollers, and listening to my chatter (“Katie said it’s okay to use a lot of flour” … “Hmmm, I’m pretty sure this needs more water” … “I think we should try this with semolina flour” … “No, the instructions say …” and on and on).

There are downsides to the sous-chef model of kitchen harmony—we don’t have nearly as many interesting meals as my friends with cooking partners, and it’s lonely sometimes grocery-shopping by myself—but it works for us. The fettuccine was our first meal of 2011!

giving thanks

We hosted our first family holiday feast last week. This included our first turkey, which was successful thanks to an overnight brine. Smoky picture below.

My sister arrived early, bearing coffee, cheese, and chocolates. I documented them right away! Her husband is a barista at Princeton's famous Small World coffeeshop and supplied the fresh-roasted beans.

Some shots of our fine feast and the Thanksgiving spread (two folding tables pushed together, with Mom's tablecloth and some borrowed chairs).

tomato update

The tomatoes are starting to peek pink and roll in. I've got my first pickings in a paper bag on the counter.

Here's a shot my brother took while visiting the garden about 10 days ago. It's great to have him in the States for a little while, though he's complained about the heat quite a bit. We all enjoyed grilled squash on a Saturday evening -- talk about fresh!

And here's my CSA display (minus the bananas): vine ripe tomatoes (they're a little ahead of mine, obviously), cherry tomatoes (which my brother devoured), and white nectarines. I love getting fruit as part of my share.

Oh ... and there's basil there, too. I think I'll make a batch of mozzarella this weekend!

new rhythms

About three weeks ago, I switched to half-time at work. I’m now working remotely and putting in about 20-25 hours a week editing, abstracting, and prepping web content. And I gleefully gave back the Blackberry. So far, it’s just lovely. But I don’t take it lightly.

This change is the result of about a year of reflection in our household, six months of conversations with my supervisors, and a commitment to try our best to flourish in our fast-paced environment. We’d like to stay in the D.C. area for more than the typical two years, and that’s going to take a lot of intentionality (I know, I’m not supposed to use that word) and investing in our home and community rather than our work. I’m praying for wisdom about how to best use my “free” time and how to balance my husband’s 12-14 hour days as an attorney.

So far, it’s been filled with (in no particular order): a new church committee, a garden, a car accident (no one was hurt), unrelated car maintenance, roller coasters, splashing in the pool with some toddler friends, a little more reading, and “The Bachelorette.” Oh, and the two bridal showers. How am I doing?

snow soup

Okay, so I ate two thirds of it before taking the picture. And it looks oddly like ricotta. But I have to celebrate record-breaking snowfalls in the D.C. area somehow!

This treat goes by many names – the Washington Post had this article on “snow cream” – but in my family it’s always been called “snow soup.” I make my snow soup the same way my family has made it for generations (yes, hyperbolic): a splash of milk or half & half and a generous drizzle of real maple syrup. Syrup drizzling requires significant restraint or the snow soup quickly becomes an expensive endeavor. Bon appétit!

dinks

It’s 2010 and we’ve officially left behind the “transition year” that was 2009. We’ve left behind the odd scraps of income, the piecing together of part-time jobs. We’ve settled into a small apartment, parked our Honda, and met our neighbors’ new dog. We live in Arlington, and we are DINKS—double-income, no kids (no dog, either). So here’s to a year of working hard, trying new recipes (tonight’s failed), hosting new friends, and enjoying the city. And each other.

princeton II

I went back. I couldn't help myself. Here are just a few pictures of Princeton's surrounds and my sister's homey place. One thing I (sadly) failed to do was adequately capture the foliage. Oh well -- there's always next year.

Her dormer windows (only five of the nine shown).

A creative fall display outside a gallery in Hopewell.

Homemade cappuccino w/ cinnamon.

Cozy conversation corner.

Three arches -- just off Nassau Street.
(These are not crooked in real life. Hehe.)

princeton

Last weekend I visited my sister in Princeton, where she is at seminary. My dad drove down from New England and we enjoyed a relaxing tour of Princeton-in-the-fall. She took us to the local orchard, the coffee shop, the bakery. The best place of all was her top-floor apartment -- with nine dormer windows, found furniture, quirky wall hangings, and mismatched mugs.

Being in Princeton reminded me how much I love seeing new places, especially when they are meaningful to a good friend or family member. Princeton was stunning--the leaves turning gold and crinkling and wise, solid trees lining every path and standing sentry to every building. I'll go back again, and I'll imagine it is always fall there.