Words and Pictures

Chickenblog is my safety valve. I am not sure whether this is a recurring, semi-annual revelation, or a whole new epiphany. Just now, with little or no significant news or content to share, I am thankful, relieved, to have time to sit at my computer, format photographs, to reflect on my thoughts, and impressions, and then lay it all out, here... all of my little darlings. I don't kill them, or rarely do, but I publish them, and take some comfort in the small head space that gets freed up, afterwards. Ahhh, I sigh, metaphorically.

This season is so busy, so full. And I am reluctant to describe it thus, because it is cliché, and at times even hyperbolic, to be busy, to compare one's busy-ness, to list all of the deadlines, goal posts, laundry lists, to bullet point the tasks at hand. Sometimes, we don't exaggerate. Sometimes the cliché, is not mere banality, but simple truth. Geoff is working 7 days a week and late into the night. Max has taken on overtime hours, too. Alex, and Bambi are tackling home projects, like removing a dead tree, laying paving stones, hauling things here, and there. William is reorganizing rooms, hauling things here, and there. He's also rebuiling a cart, modeling it and designing the new table top, the facing around the drawers. He's making a stand for a mask... commissioned work. He did some photo re-touching. Maria has school, and robotics, and other clubs. She has big and small projects to think about, including the FIRST regional competition coming up, learning how to silk-screen Tshirts. Even the busy-ness adjacent to our home kind of spills over... next door, the Old Place is all but gone, and the big trucks, massive dumpsters, haulers, crew, and heavy equipment crawl over the property all day long. In twelve years living here we have never had a break from big construction projects happening on any side of our home... North, South, East, and West. And of course, we have our own big construction project, in house! Mike is rebuilding our shower, now. His work is coming along, as evidenced by the heaps of stuff that is being hauled to our dumpster! I finally found light fixtures, and... should the light fixtures match, or complement the faucet? They don't, it just occurs to me. I am getting the uneasy feeling that it's not going to look so good, having old bronze sconces above a chrome faucet. Ah, nutz.

This not the tub framing. A lot of that wood went into reframing the shower, thankfully. This is not the flooring, nor the old shower tiles. I believe this is what was beneath the old shower tiles. And maybe some flooring? It's a lot, that much I can confirm! William is carting it all up to the dumpster today. The cool, helpful part of this was that the old tub had a trapdoor beneath, so Mike could drop a lot of the demo material down through the trap door. I am so tempted to keep the trapdoor! The window on the first floor is in the laundry room, and I could just keep a cart below the hole in the floor, so dirty clothes could be dropped down, then wheeled into the laundry room. (Approximately 42% of my harebrained ideas are put into action, which is kind of awesome, really.)

Geoff, when he's listening to another of my harebrained ideas. Actually, this was Sunday night, when we had the brilliant idea to go out for tacos. This place we like has lots of outdoor seating, and we can isolate, like the true shy, reclusive introverts that we are, and eat delicious tacos.

Tacos. This. This might be my New Year Resolution, my word of the year! Tacos. Make them, sample them, enjoy tacos, and share tacos, visit taco shops, and travel to taco destinations. Be taco mindful. Be the taco of the party. Be complete, flavorful, be satisfied, and healthy, like a taco. Express my heritage and culture, taco-bout the good in the world, and bring more goodness to the world.

Besides, tacos, here are some things that have stirred my heart, of late: Wallpaper. And bulbs. I can't hang wallpaper... not well enough to invest in rolls, like this one, but if I could, there would be, at least, one wall of this paper, of flying pigs, and rabbits in tophats, on our restroom wall. And I would swoon for it. I have swooned for these muscari bulbs, just beginning to bloom. Their tiny bell flowers peeping open in striking berry blue spires. The papery bulbs huddled together, emassed in the terra-cotta pot. I felt a teeny bit magnanimous for bringing home only one pot... let everyone have a chance to bring their own home, too, I reasoned. My heart is stirred. It's dusty and busy, and noisy, and lots of things are spilling over, and some of it is too much. And hasn't that been too frequent, this business of "too much?" Oh, we all could use a break, for certain. I hope you find some bulbs, just beginning to bloom, or something whimisical, even if you can only have a sample to admire, and that you feel an affectionate longing, an aspiration that stirs your heart.

Ahhhh. I read Tasha's expression as serenity, as though she is so balanced and mindful, that all of the noise and busy-ness of the world cannot rattle her bliss. In an alternate universe, she is leading us in meditation. Close your eyes, inhale. In. Out. The sun is warm on your face, and only bird song reaches your ears. The World is soft, and we are here to admire her blossoms, to breath in, and slowly out. We are nourished by dreams, and carried on the wings of our best intentions. Breath in, and slowly out. Share your little darlings, your harebrained ideas, your seeds, and hopes... send them out, tend them, and see what grows. Tasha nods knowingly, speaks affirmatively, then we all take tea in the garden, where there are rabbits in tophats, rattys gathering bouquets.

A Chat

Yellow roses, from Trader Joes. I can see they are a teeny bit passed prime, but they still look lovely to me, and they are holding up well, considering I brought them home on the 5th. Maybe I should hang them, for a dried arrangement. I think they might just dry up all in one day, because it's about to hit 85 degrees here! Yes, summer returned, for two days, and tomorrow autumn is back in the forecast.

I was absolutely resolute: I will make this for Maria and I will keep it a secret, until her birthday. But I was so delighted with how it turned out, I blew my surprise and gave it to her yesterday. Early gift shopping never works for me, either. It almost always goes like this... I can't resist giving the gift too soon, or I tuck it away, for safe keeping, but can't find it until 6 months after the panicked search. Don't ask me what this tiny wool thing is, because I made it the teeniest bit too small to hold an id card, or gift card. It has a pocket inside, and the yellow bead has loop fastener to keep it closed. It's a hen's tooth. Maria exclaimed gleefully over the flowered hat, and cup of tea, the stack of books. I am thinking of another gift to put together for her... Gah! I almost shared my idea, but she might read this and I'd blow another surprise! Ok. I am totally absolutely very resolute this time.

I feel like having tea and a chat, so if there's anything you'd like to share, I am flitting around, and happy for some company.

(Not "85." It's just after midday and 89 degrees Fahrenheit [31.66 C]. In November. I'm glad we have made changes here that keep the house cooler... covered porch, windows that bring in cross breezes, room darkening drapes that keep the sun outside. Without any air conditioning, or even fans running, it's still comfortable. Thank goodness.)

A Little Bit of September

However strong my convictions are about retiring, or if I think I am on the brink of breaking an old habit, something comes up that cannot be resisted, like the Moon rising with Venus, Mercury, or bringing home the first pumpkin of the season, the sight of storm clouds towering in the east, so what other choice do I have? I have to share. And the pumpkin was good motivation for clearing off the dining table, and preparing some special dinners. Then I even cleaned the window paint off of the entry sidelights... yes, the Christmas window paint, up since December 4th. In my defence, the paint held up very well, and it was cheery. So, here you have it... a little bit of September, from watching the sky to Windex and elbow grease. Actually, this feels nice... I do wish we could get together over tea, and Maria's cranberry orange scones, and enjoy a long, slow, thorough chat.

Flowers and Paints

Hmmmm... as soon as I formatted these two images, it dawned on me that today's post won't look much different from yesterday's post, which does beg the question: Why am I posting at all? I take photographs, and I write posts for this blog, because I can't not do those things. Besides, the pictures I shared yesterday are not so wholly like today's pictures, not really. I made some progress on a watercolor painting. It's from a portrait of my Grandmother. No. I should say it is a watercolor painting of Eunice Velasco Solis, because this was before. Before she was a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, or a world traveler, before she lived by the ocean, or went to college, before she taught me how to sew, before she had read a million, or more, books. I am not sharing my painting because I think it's very good, but because I am glad I tried to make it good, and I may try again. I feel a mix of frustration and amusement that no matter how mindfully I sketch, no matter the care I take with painting, when I step back and look at it, after it's too late to do anything about it... that's when the errors and questionable choices are visible, glaring even! I marvel at those perspective flaws, and the way shapes lost meaning, when I was so intent on deliberately getting it right. "Getting it right," means reflecting exactly how beautiful she is, even evoking how I adore her, and how the photograph makes me long to travel to Mexico City, with her, to wear huipiles, and faldas, and walk through mercados with aisles of flowers, then pottery, then toys and housewares, to sit in a Tía's kitchen and listen to todos los cuentos. What is perspective and proper anatomy to all of that... those dreams and wishes that I will never be able to fulfill?

And then there is the chamomile, still lifting me up, still being a favorite. And even with it growing in my very own garden, I couldn't help bringing this bouquet home from Trader Joes. They smell like someone put the kettle on, and is about to offer us cut sandwiches, and small cakes, with tea. Even thinking of them soothes my thoughts, and I breath a little deeper, easier. Do you know, something I find brilliant? If I search "chamomile" in the small box on the left side of this page, all of the posts when I have typed c h a m o m i l e will appear? There's a lot wrong in the world, and the Internet can be such a mess, but I find satisfaction in this tiny bit of order, and instant gratification. It really is a kind of miracle.

Last week I attended a virtual gallery exhibit and cocktail party, hosted Live, by my friend, Lola Argemí. My cóctel was delicioso! Over ice, I poured sparkling mineral water (Topo Chico is our new favorite) and then I added a splash of Pear-Cranberry balsamic (Something I learned from Baker & Olive.) The balsamic gives a hint of sweet, with a zing, and the Topo Chico is satisfyingly bubbly! I watched and listened as Lola and her friend, who makes jewelry, shared their art and creations. We aren't even in the same time zone, and all I could do was observe, and of course drink my cóctel, but I enjoyed the hour. I love Lola's art, the lessons she shares, and I especially love the time when we were Zooming, and I could hear vendors calling from the street where she lives, or just watching her paint, listening to her whistle. Now I think of it, my cóctel needs a name, y claro que tiene que ser Lola, refrescante, ducle, y burbujeante. I am naming my cocktail Lola, refreshing, sweet, and bubbly, like my friend.

For a moment, I believed I would share other accounts, other people I follow, admire. I think I will save those for another time. I might go back into my corner, and sketch, or maybe I'll fold some laundry. Have I mentioned? Lately, I have been calling myself the luckiest woman in the world. It's just a thing I say to myself, and it's nothing to do with anything like perfection, or feeling flawless, or having everything my heart desires. I am simply astonished at how many good things I have access to, how much better my life is than what I imagined it could be, what it was when I was younger, and trying to picture what a good life could be. Also, I am very likely superstitious, or just have survival notions about how to protect myself, so I am guarded, and saying aloud, even thinking I am fortunate feels reckless, like an invitation for fate to take away comforts and blessings. I'd rather be daring, or I would like to be daring, to really feel confident and assured... say, My life is lovely, and I have a comfortable home, and I love my children, I love Geoff, and flowers, popcorn, my dresses, floss, paints, and cats, and not look over my shoulder, or glance sideways, fearful of what might take it all away. Nina Simone, she was so right... "I'll tell you what freedom is to me. No fear."

Ribbons & Flowers

It's taking all of my will (which evidently is insufficient) to not open this post with: Wow! It's already Friday and April! Some days it feels like it could still be March... March 2020. But things are not all together unchanged. I see Maria's hair is longer, again, since I cut it last May. Long enough to play with, trying the tutorial where she uses ribbon to make two braids wrap together. No hair ties or rubber bands! She did the first try all on her own, with a narrow ribbon, then I tried with this wider, grosgrain ribbon. If her hair grows this much in less than a year, I think this pretty style will be even more successful by mid-summer. By the way, today is her last day of school before she has a week of spring break. Not much is planned, I am sorry to say, but William is going to help her paint her room. And they might trade beds. There has been a lot of shuffling and rearranging, lately. I remarked about the house looking like five families are moving out, and five other families are moving in, all at once... and why? Because I am "cleaning!" Incidentally, I am not going to bother with paragraphs. This post is coming in fast and random, chaotic... like my thoughts! Now, let's talk about rununculus, before I head outside to meet Paul and Janece for a driveway visit: The rununculus I brought home are making me very happy, and Feynman cat is fascinated by them, too. There are flower fields in our part of the county where they grow, and I think I'd begun to take them for granted, hadn't bought any in many years. Well! What I was missing! They are an excellent warm up for peony season, I think. All of those sumptuous petals, the vibrancy of the colors, the daily evolvement as they open. Hold up! I think we have company!

A Little More Prettiness

When I started posting yesterday, there were all kinds of prettiness I wanted to share, but I ran out of time, before I was needed elsewhere. So, I am just popping in, again, to share a little more, and then, don't let me forget to make a to-do list. In the morning light, I can feel almost capable, and level headed about all the things that need doing, but in the wee hours I wake up in a panic! Objectively, rationally, I know that I have too much to do, owing mostly to the fact that under pressure, in trauma, I close my eyes and withdraw... and there's been a lot of that in the last, oh, say four years? Geoff thinks we might open our home again, have company, someday, soon, and the implication is that we might want to tidy up, or we could leave our home, go places, and that would require planning and organizing, too. Either way, it's becoming clear, that some people think that staying home forever, eyes closed, is not an option. It's rather a shame, because I have become very very comfortable in this cocoon. (Well... look at that. I note that I used "cocoon" for my metaphor, and it's staring at me, like a firm friend, as if to say, It is time for your metamorphosis. I am aware, my cocoon is not entirely figurative, you see, but is teetering on literal. I feel myself wriggling, uncomfortably confronting hard truths, growth, resistance.) Just now, anxiously, I'd like to see more of those pretty things, or close my eyes.

Ruth spent an afternoon visiting us. The weather was just right for driveway company. It was warm, but not too warm. Cool, but not too cool. We practiced all of the social distancing protocol that is routine by now. It's odd what we are accustomed to, that seemed like a hardship a year ago. Even sitting far apart, not hugging, a driveway visit is far better than a Zoom call, and we even shared lunch. I had a gift I have been waiting to share with Ruth, a little ratty brooch. Geoff had some down time from work, and was free to join the company, the young folks came out. For a time I did a little more stitching on the apron. We talked about travel, about places we might like to visit. We talked about farm houses in Wisconsin, how they tempt us. We talked about tea towels, house projects, school progress, termites, and fences. We moved into the shade, then back into the sun.

Look at what I found! After blogging about daffodils, about spring and bulbs, about never planning... and always feeling unprepared, I went to Trader Joes and right in the entrance were potted daffodils, the small ones, like I saw on our bike ride! I felt so lucky, like fate had a gift for me, and I could be part of the spring celebration, after all. And I grabbed some rununculus, too, because why not? If I had been at the market before Ruth's visit, I would have bought her bunches of flowers, probably the tulips I saw. The tulips were tightly shut, which is how I like them, so I can enjoy the whole ride, as they open up. Thinking on this, I'd love to go around all day delivering flowers to everyone I love. It would take a very long day... to get all over California, up to Oregon, over to Wisconsin, then Massachusetts, I'd stop in Georgia, pop down to Florida, then see everyone in Mexico. I'd think of everyone's favorites, and celebrate spring with them.

Ruth never comes empty-handed. She had a birthday gift for William, and a spring dish towel for our Bird House... it's covered in darling beetles. Ruth and I are in a Tea Towel Club, and so is Jennifer... you can be in our club, if you love tea towels. Ruth also brought me something special. It's from a shop in Kealakekua. It is precious! For one thing, she's kept it all these years, and thought of me, wants me to have it now. And it reminds me of flowers my Grandmother Eunice embroidered! And the print, with the cottage, and those blues and greens, the old fabric... all so lovely. Is it linen? Was this a kit? Who might know something about these? I have embroidered over fabric I painted. I painted acrylic on muslin. It's an effect I like very much. But I've never seen a sample like this. I noticed there are printed words on the frayed edge.

I have to look at the back of embroidered pieces! I have to. I love it almost as much, sometimes more, than the part we are meant to see. It's the rest of the story, the how it was made part, and it gives you a glimpse of the work, of the time and thought, even the struggles, or sometimes the remarkable grace. I love it. The printed words... I can make out The ____ House. The middle word looks like it could begin with an S. Summer, or Spring? What do you think?

Winter Now

It's Winter, now. In Southern California, on the coast, it's necessary to announce it, to state and clarify that Fall is over, and Winter has begun, otherwise we would have no idea that anything has changed. For all we know, it could be early June. It's not impossible to tell one season from another, but we have to pay attention. Afterall, June can be cold, too. And yesterday we had temps in the 70s, which is definitely not at all cold. Signs of Winter around here... Uggs worn with shorts, flip-flops worn with down jackets, reindeer antlers on SUVs, surfers in wetsuits, Christmas trees on the beach, and tamales selling like tamales at El Nopalito.

Another sign of Winter, of holiday cheer, are all of the loving gestures and kind favors going around. School clubs sponsor Adopt a Family events to help families in need, and there are toy drives, food drives. On our bike ride, we go by a home with a table on the street, laden with snacks and water bottles, all for the delivery drivers, postal workers. Down the street, neighbors have boxes of key limes out for sharing. And on our gate, a very special treat, delivered fresh from our local mountains, by our dear friends... Carol, Grace, Leo, Bella and Michael shared their mistletoe! It's such a big, bright bunch; the best I've ever seen. And I decided that if flowers come in bouquets, and herbs in bunches, if we have a litter of kittens, and herds of cows, then mistletoe should be a kiss. A kiss of mistletoe makes a merry winter gift.

I never did come up with a plan for Solstice, but the day began pleasantly, calmly, and that's how it went, all the way to bedtime. I thought about the neighbor's limes, and hoping there were some left, I hopped on my bike and went to collect some. While I squeezed limes, Alex and Bambi opened the gingerbread house kit, then called Maria in to assist. And by sheer coincidence, a text came from Leslie... Simon, Bex, and Spencer were completing their house, too!

Later, another text popped up... "The whole thing will be devoured by tonight."

I should ammend my statement about having no plans for Solstice, because since December 1, I have had no other plan than to watch the great convergance, Saturn and Jupiter in their own winter kiss. All I needed was a clear sky, and that wish was granted. We went to a spot where we could enjoy a wide open view. We waited for the last of the sunlight to fade, and then... suddenly, there they were! And when Geoff got the binoculars on the tripod, we took turns, and were treated to Jupiter's moons, and Saturn's rings! I took fuzzy pictures, and even a selfie. I was so happy. I am still happy. I don't know if there's any point in explaining, or describing. But I am so very thankful that the stars and moon, the planets, and big skies have held my gaze this year, that I have found solace and good distraction, giddy anticipation of viewings, and all night wonders. It made me wistful, too, and I made a wish... Stay safe, friends. We are all together on this one little planet, and I can't wait to sing and dance with all of you, again.

Last Days of August

It is hard to believe we are here, at the last days of August. I know. I always have these moments. There is always a month or season or event that sneaks up on me, then I exclaim, most incredulously, How is this possible? Well, as cliche, or typical as it sounds, how long we have been living in this new age, this Stay at Home Season, boggles my mind.

What do you think of Thistle standing on Tasha? Chickens don't ride astride, so I guess there's no point in getting a saddle for the goats, but I think about it. I think of hens in boots, herding rabbits. Goats riding the range, and everyone around a campfire when the sun goes down.

SweetPea, Heidi, Dolly, Willow, and Thistle, our Happy Campers. It looks peaceful, but these five have to stick together, and neither the Chiclets, nor the Chicas, are welcoming. It's disappointing. I try not to conflate bird-brained societies and behaviors with people, with the world at large, but it's hard not to draw parallels.




Here are Ventura and Lucia grappling for nest space. In the movies, in idyllic farm scenes and romantic depictions, a farm has long rows of nests boxes, or cute little hay strewn cubbies, and every hen takes her spot. Someone in a pristine apron, and cute shoes, passes through with a basket, and gathers eggs at the appointed hour, probably just after sun-up, while coffee is percolating.

Nah.

It ain't like that. Not for us.

Our chickens lay eggs in inconvenient places, with no particular rhyme or reason, at no particular time of day. When a new hot spot is discovered, all hens will want to lay there. The overturned bucket, with the rusted out bottom, lost favor to the goats' hay rack. I gave this old crate a low wall, and now it's the favored nest. There are four spots suitable for laying eggs, and only one is good enough for these two.





Geoff and I are debating about a freezer. We don't debate each other. We just can't decide if it's a really very good idea, or a very much unnecessary addition. Sometimes it seems like an obvious choice to have more space so we can preserve garden food, store more, and make fewer treks to the market. We have two refrigerators, already. I find this an embarrassing admission. Consumption and material heaps make me feel apologetic. And I do have some good size heaps. Sorry.

This is sort of a non-sequitur, but our toaster is dying. It has four slots, and only two are working. One of our refrigerators doesn't defrost anymore, so about every four months we have to (urgently) pack everything into coolers, and into the garage fridge, and repair/defrost the kitchen fridge... it's an event. Anyway, about two months into this Stay at Home Season, I observed that everything is going to be so busy with our use, that the life expectancy of appliances, and materials, will seem to have shortened, because we are using them at a far greater frequency. I want someone to make a calculation of the rate of wear and tear on our homes, our furnishings, and appliances, our faucets, and floors, and everything, when seven of us are here everyday, for every meal, all the time. How would that compare to when people left the house, when we ate out, or vacationed, when some of us were gone for days, or weeks at a time? It makes me think of dog years, how they're counted on a different scale to make them equivalent with a human life span. In COVID years, I feel like our kitchen has aged faster. It's 16 years old, strictly chronologically, but... I'd say the last six months move it to an equivalent of three years, dating the age of our kitchen at 19 years old. Yeah, so I think we need a new toaster. But I still don't know if it makes sense to get a freezer. Also, I have started fantasizing about painting the cabinets, because I have been looking at them for 19 years, even though we've only lived here 11 years, and I am beginning to be not happy with them. Math is complicated, but trust me, this all adds up.

Hello, SweetPea. This is what some of the hens do to escape the Mean Girls.

Come to think of it... my hair, in COVID time, is aging faster, too. Could be the stress.

Heidi is an inflated pigeon. Have I already said? She is as wide eyed and innocent as she looks here. She minds her business, and makes no fuss for anyone. She is a sweet girl. Naturally, she gets pecked and chased, and she always looks surprised about it, as though it makes no sense to her. And why should it? Poor Heidi.


Ta-da! Maya, the compact Black Australorp, is officially a hen, a layer. And this is her compact, and beautiful, wee brown egg. The shell is very smooth, as though it were lightly polished. I don't know if she will grow. I don't know if her eggs will get bigger. Hopefully those will correlate. I only want bigger eggs if she gets bigger, too.

There was some hesitation, a mild lack of consensus about this pullet's name. I gave it some time, some thought. She is another mild and shy girl. She makes no fuss, and she is polite. She is also very pretty, with vivid, jewel-like ear lobes, which is why we tried the name Tiffany on her. But when she sits with Thistle and SweetPea, that name feels a little trite, a little flat. She is a natural beauty, an American beauty, and so we settled on Willow.

I noticed Thistle checking out the nest box, a few days ago. She, and the Happy Campers, are a month younger than the Chiclets, who have only just begun to lay. But her instincts were correct, and I had the good fortune of being there when she laid her very first egg, and what a beauty! It's the most blue we've seen, and it came out hard, nicely formed. What a lucky and good hen.


Ventura is laying, like Maya. Both of these hens will sit on my lap and fall asleep. We haven't noticed, yet, if Puanani is laying. She's aloof, and honestly... not very bright (Imagine I am whispering this, out of her earshot. We hate to label her, or lower our expectations, but the girl is pretty daft. I can't deny it.)

Pretty Willow. This name suits her.

I finally removed the towering stack of casually collected bottle caps from a cabinet. It was threatening to topple, and I would have been utterly confounded at my choice of amassing these so haphazardly, if it came to all 400+ pieces crashing across the kitchen. This represents a lot of parties, over 11 years, and like I said a casual collection. We kind of regret that we weren't more diligent about keeping all of them, because now we are planning an art piece. Brown, is the rarest color, then purple, and blue. I can't believe there are so few purples, given my love of grape soda. I don't drink it often, but I only see three purple caps. The brown one is for a root beer. Actually, there are even fewer green caps, than blue.

Every now and then we talk about a restaurant, or meal we miss. It hasn't been too traumatic, or disappointing to eat at home all the time. But one time Max and I remembered Rueben sandwiches, and it made our minds and bellies ache! That conversation happened at least two months ago, and this week I finally thought of it while I was in a store and could do something about our craving. All I could think of us was corned beef, rye bread and sauerkraut, and I had to settle for pastrami, and didn't think of the Swiss cheese, nor the Thousand Island dressing... I had no idea a Rueben has Thousand Island dressing. I did think of fries, though! I wanted to recreate sitting in a restaurant and ordering something indulgent, yummy.


Thanks to Trader Joes, and some quick searches about making Thousand Island dressing, and order of assembly, using a sharp cheddar instead of Swiss, we pulled this off... it's a lot like a grilled cheese! I had no idea. Alex made a vegan dressing, and cooked up pea protein patties, also from Trader Joes. I loved the camaraderie, all of us rallying and collaborating around this meal, and they turned out super yummy! We all want to do this again. This is why we need two refrigerators, apparently, so we can have more sauerkraut on hand!

The last day of August. The days slip by. Happily, we are together, still making plans, still keeping hope.