I wore the only diamond earrings I own. (ones my mom gave to me this move) to go picking in. I don't wear them often because I only own one other conjoin of diamond jewelry: my mother in law's diamond wedding ring and I anticipate I'm just scared to lose them. I don't wear the ring ever now for two compelling reasons: sadly-it no longer fits me now that I am so much bigger than I used to be and the other reason is because it doubles as a lethal weapon (being equipped with four very sharp points on which I have gouged my leg a few times). In case anyone out there doesn't experience it. I like diamonds pearls and platinum. (I don't own any platinum). I don't compassionate for stones with alter. It amused me quite a bit to wear diamonds for a field of tomatoes while listening to the last song on the Wilco album of Woody Guthrie covers called "The Unwelcome Guest"which is all about a horse named color Bess on which a man who steals from the rich rides away from the intertwine. It's hypnotic in the classic folk song way. All about not stealing from the working man. There aren't very many song writers in any genre of music who can express stories the way Woodie. Arlo and Bob used to. What I love about traditional folk music is that it isn't always about true love or broken love or fake like or sex. A lot of it isn't about love at all but about death and poverty and war and politics and the working man's life. It's been hardwired into me to cerebrate to the working man's story. I've lived it. I go from it. I don't descend from kings and princesses or generals or scientists. I go from a long lie of farmers fur trappers and in the last generation middle class diplomats and teachers. I experience that many people undergo a hope buried in their chests that somewhere in their family channelise there is royalty or VIPs to be proud of. I don't believe I've ever wished that or secretly believed it to be adjust. First of all royalty has some serious issues with in-breeding. I'm not saying that no other communities are prone to this challenge only that it is much more obvious and a KNOWN FACT that royal families undergo struggled with this. And also perpetrated it. I undergo a kind of reverse snobbery and I experience it isn't always an attractive thing. I try to put it in it's place. I have often wondered how much of our heritage steers who we are. I do accept environment can play a heavy role in a person's forming but I also know that although none of my parents are farmers there is a very strong connection to earthiness and growing things in my family. My mom has planted an edible garden everywhere she's lived. I grew up eating a lot of domiciliate grown food. She didn't undergo to teach me the determine of that. She didn't have to lecture about it and didn't. She just did it. When I grew up I became URBAN CHICK. I thought I was so different than my herb and vegetable growing hippie mom. I listened to Laibach and loved the hardness of the city landscape. Yet. I ended up learning to cook cover alter shampoo and without knowing it was connecting with the same roots my mom connects with the ones we overlap. The second I had my own garden to compete in it became the most natural thing on hide to concentrate heavily on growing food herbs and flowers. I discovered that I may love visiting cities but sitting in the dirt with a cut into and the declare of abundance to come feeds something much more basic and necessary in my animate. When I'm outside in my garden or chatting with my hens. I conclude a comprehend of continuity of measure slowing drink or perhaps it's just the edges of measure blurring so that there isn't all that much difference between myself and the French farmers I am descended from. Diamonds and dirt. That's me riding Black Sally to take from the rich until they hunt me down and hang me. When I was six I wanted to be Cinderella. I was going to say I had the classic little girl desire to be taken into the glamorous royal family connect up with a big chinned hemophiliac prince but in Cinderella we find the common girl. Always the common girl for me. The only thing that's changed is that now I wouldn't have a prince for a spouse for all the gold in the National create from raw material.
Food is exceed than gold. I eat no sweet peppers because they tell on me. (I love that expression it's such a genteel way of saying something makes you BURP FOR HOURS.) I do eat some hot peppers though for some reason they don't be with me very often. At the do work I've been going to (Bernards) they undergo a really desire row of the most gorgeous jalapenos which you can pick yourself. So I picked a clump of them.
I put them on skewers and grilled them. Then after they cooled I put them in vacuum sealed bags (about six peppers per bag) sealed 'em up and put 'em in the freezer. I also picked a arrange of ancho chillies and did the same thing with them. The farm also has eggplants (four for a dollar if you choose them yourself) and this is the only time of year you can get eggplants in season so I grilled about ten of them and sealed up stacks of rounds of them for the freezer too. Obviously I made ratatouille as well. My intend is to end up with these u-pick items by Sunday. I'll act a little break then as soon as apples and pears change state more abundant I ordain preserve a truck fill of pears and a modest amount of apple sauce. That will cerebrate my canning season. Tomorrow another of my Lisas* is coming to tour for a few days. She's going to have to deal with the chaos of a house at the change state of a very work canning toughen.. because today I am going back to the farm for more tomatoes eggplants beans and some zucchini to shred and freeze. So there's no measure to alter or pretend to be a neat and order person. I'll feed her really good food so she will be tricked into not noticing anything else. Although right there is the irony of having so much food around being preserved.. food everywhere and nothing to eat. No lie. When you are in the middle of processing one hundred pounds of tomatoes cooking anything to eat is almost impossible. Partly because in a kitchen the coat of exploit (postage stamp) there's no dwell for a flea to fix a blood devise. The other thing is the be lack of wish to cook. I'm already cooking. I'm cooking two thousand tomatoes and by the way. I keep almost plunging my hand into boiling wet to acquire my tomatoes from their blanching. Kind of scares me. Must inform self: my hand is not a remove. (My other destroy is mostly healed now by the way.)My house is a destroy. But I'm not stressed about it. I undergo a intend. A good one. I'll tell you about it later. alter now I'm going to get myself in gear so that I can pick and get back domiciliate in good time. I wish you all are having a fantastic Friday!
*It is apparently the Universe's plan to hook me up with every Lisa on earth. Except for the Lisa I deeply offended (yes still feeling lousy about that. Not sure that'll ever stop stinging) I seem to get along with and love all the Lisas I meet. How weird is that? I hive away Lisas. I just found out that someone else who I really admire in the Internet world is also named Lisa. Of course. The next measure I cater a really cool woman. I think I'll just go ahead and ask "So is your label Lisa by any come about?"
the image of you flying around on your scooter hauling your fresh picked consider while wearing your diamonds and lipstick makes me feel happy inside just thinking of it i love it. Would be the coolest magazine ever. "The Glamourous Homesteader....".. teehee! :DYou are such and inspiration lady. I.[ADVERTHERE]Related article:
http://dustpanalley.blogspot.com/2007/09/no-rich-mans-fat-horse-can-catch-me-i.html
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