as I am want to do with most of the blogs I try to start, with the best of intentions, I have been negligent. I get busy, I get happy (or sad), something starts happening and I get distracted, and I... forget. but I'm here, and a lot has been happening.
so, June. a month of bloom and burst and bee drama to beat the band.
so I'll start from now, and move back.
yesterday was my ninth Chicago birthday -- nine years in the city of broad shoulders and burning and smoldering dreams. I came here with everything, lived here with nothing, and rebuilt my life over and over again, piece by piece, until I got here -- the place that I love, the city that I'm proud of and hopeful for, the place I call home.
I got back from a vacation to Wisconsin last week (to Eaux Claires music and art festival, which if you haven't heard of, you're going to wish you had, and if you have heard of, it's about time you made it out there), and I don't know that I've ever been happier to plant my dirty, Teva-clad feet on the asphalt of this city in my entire damned life. don't mistake me, the festival was transformative, and the city of Eau Claire itself was welcoming and beautiful and alive with smiles and wide rivers and well-walked bridges, but Chicago is home. I got on the Blue Line, and I saw people of all ages, all ethnicities, gay couples, kids and old folks, well-dressed young women and homeless men howling and dancing, I heard at least three different languages in the 20-minute train ride home, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I grew up in a small town in a far-flung county, and I understand well their charms, but in our turbulent times, it's a great comfort to be surrounded by diversity. it was a good feeling to have, after years spent longing for something different, and very specifically longing for an off-the-grid home on the outskirts of the very city of Eau Claire, to realized that I'm right where I ought to be.
before I left for the festival, I discovered that I had lost my queen (RIP, Beyonce). this gave me a significant amount of anxiety, but seeing as how nothing could be done at that moment, I decided again in favor of letting the bees do what bees do, and see how things looked upon my return. and things looked quite good, as I did a hive inspection the day after I got back, and found a new queen -- she's little, but she's comin' for ya. probably a virgin queen, as I'm still not seeing eggs, so next Sunday I'll do another hive inspection, and see where things stand. right now, though, I'm thinking my girls have things quite under control. fingers crossed on that.
my garden was fecund when I got back -- a glorious sight to sore eyes! my French radishes are in some sort of drama that I can't quite understand, not quite ready to grow big enough to make more than a few bites-worth of crunchy goodness, but I suppose I'll leave them be and see what else they can come up with. in the mean time, the cucumbers have become wild things, and are now being trained to crawl and vine up my makeshift trellises of scavenged pieces of an old sauna and pieces of string strung from drain pipe to brick wall. the potatoes are growing tall, the tomatoes are too, and for once in my life, I've managed to keep rosemary alive for more than a week. my flowers are doing things unknown to my untrained eyes, but as long as I have pots-full of green, I'm happy enough with them. I can't eat them, anyway, so they factor in a little lower on my list of priorities. the mustard greens are moving slowly, but shooting up every couple of days. the onions remain a mystery, but occasionally I can cut their stalks and get a little somethin'-somethin' to add to my guacamole and stir-frys. the lettuce is glorious, not to mention keeping well in the fridge for far longer than I expected (wash the leaves, layer them between paper towels, seal them in a freezer bag, and eat salads for weeks). the oregano is sprouting purple flowers, so while it's terribly attractive, I'm trying not to pinch all of those precious leaves at once. the cilantro is right at home, and the mint has never given me a second of trouble. oh, and the basil! is there anything more satisfyingly productive than a good, strong basil plant? if there is, I haven't grown it, yet.
my mother, my wonderful mother, purchased some seeds for me as a last-minute last-ditch effort at getting some autumn vegetables in. Chicago's summer has been slow to start, which usually means it will be reluctant to end, so I think I'll have a good few months to grow a nice amount of squash, beets, spinach, Swiss chard, collards, and carrots. she also got me some huckleberries, which ought to be a fun/funny challenge, considering that I do not live in the northwest, and don't know how to grow bushes in buckets, but if it works out, it would sure be nice to never have to spend $20/lb. on what has become my absurdly sought after berry of choice. (I just like the sound of huckleberry kombucha, no matter that it could be done just as well, and has, with blueberries.)
I've become strict with myself, after two uncomfortable nights of destitute homelessness in Wisconsin (three nights of camping in comparatively luxurious surroundings -- hammock slung from tree, pouring rain -- were a welcome respite from wandering Owen Park until 2am, and eventually settling down in a constrained fetal position in the top tier of a playground castle, waking with only $2 in quarters in my pocket, which isn't quite enough for a warm coffee), and have started putting my various budgeted funds into envelopes with exclamated notes to myself -- "groceries, for 2 weeks!"; "spending, for 2 weeks, save what isn't spent!" I decided that for this week, I would see what $40 spent at the farmer's market would do for me, and was pleasantly surprised, most of all, that I was able to buy a pound of ground beef and a half dozen duck eggs! I also got kale, three summer squashes (of varying shapes and colors, for the prettiness of it all), three vine tomatoes, one green tomato (no self-respecting Southern girl could have passed up a tomato of such amazing firmness and, well, green-ness), four beautiful little blue potatoes, a pint of strawberries that I unceremoniously squished in the bottom of my market bag, and a round loaf of sourdough bread. it doesn't sound like much, but 1. it'll do, for simple meals, 2. I would rather eat foods of good quality than of great quantity, and 3. I like supporting farmers. so we'll see how this goes. I'm plenty stocked-up on rice, the backbone of nearly all of my meals, and I still have some mushrooms, raspberries, and half a cucumber in the fridge from last week. not to mention, my better-off friends have a kindly habit of leaving leftovers in the fridge at work and letting me know I can eat them -- today, I was able to add tortellini and salmon with pesto into the mix. I've also discovered, and albeit entirely too late in life, that not spending money can apparently be just as amusing as spending money, but often with better results. reaching into my back pocket, and discovering that three days after having received my automatically deposited paycheck, that I still have a twenty-dollar bill there, is endlessly amusing. when I get the itch to obtain something, I just go to the library instead, and that's how I ended up with new records to listen to, and a pile of books twice the height of my dogs.
so on with the complaining -- yesterday, I took a rather awful tumble out of my hammock, flat-backed onto the stairs of the fire escape (don't ask, because I'm embarrassed and it hurts too much to make a good story, for now), so a lot of these gardening and beekeeping activities have gone from the most pleasurable of chores, to a horrendous aching pain that I fear I'll never recover from. (yes, I realize I was only injured yesterday, and it will take a few days to feel better, but when you have an accident that could have just as easily left you paralyzed, I dare say you're allowed a bit of drama.) that being said, I would really like right now to lay flat on something warm, so while I'd love to say that I'll add a few pictures into this blog post, and call it a night, I'll probably only do the latter, and the former will have to wait for a day when sitting in any position that compliments a level typing surface doesn't make me cringe and moan. if I still have an audience, I hope you know that I appreciate you.
so, June. a month of bloom and burst and bee drama to beat the band.
so I'll start from now, and move back.
yesterday was my ninth Chicago birthday -- nine years in the city of broad shoulders and burning and smoldering dreams. I came here with everything, lived here with nothing, and rebuilt my life over and over again, piece by piece, until I got here -- the place that I love, the city that I'm proud of and hopeful for, the place I call home.
I got back from a vacation to Wisconsin last week (to Eaux Claires music and art festival, which if you haven't heard of, you're going to wish you had, and if you have heard of, it's about time you made it out there), and I don't know that I've ever been happier to plant my dirty, Teva-clad feet on the asphalt of this city in my entire damned life. don't mistake me, the festival was transformative, and the city of Eau Claire itself was welcoming and beautiful and alive with smiles and wide rivers and well-walked bridges, but Chicago is home. I got on the Blue Line, and I saw people of all ages, all ethnicities, gay couples, kids and old folks, well-dressed young women and homeless men howling and dancing, I heard at least three different languages in the 20-minute train ride home, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I grew up in a small town in a far-flung county, and I understand well their charms, but in our turbulent times, it's a great comfort to be surrounded by diversity. it was a good feeling to have, after years spent longing for something different, and very specifically longing for an off-the-grid home on the outskirts of the very city of Eau Claire, to realized that I'm right where I ought to be.
before I left for the festival, I discovered that I had lost my queen (RIP, Beyonce). this gave me a significant amount of anxiety, but seeing as how nothing could be done at that moment, I decided again in favor of letting the bees do what bees do, and see how things looked upon my return. and things looked quite good, as I did a hive inspection the day after I got back, and found a new queen -- she's little, but she's comin' for ya. probably a virgin queen, as I'm still not seeing eggs, so next Sunday I'll do another hive inspection, and see where things stand. right now, though, I'm thinking my girls have things quite under control. fingers crossed on that.
my garden was fecund when I got back -- a glorious sight to sore eyes! my French radishes are in some sort of drama that I can't quite understand, not quite ready to grow big enough to make more than a few bites-worth of crunchy goodness, but I suppose I'll leave them be and see what else they can come up with. in the mean time, the cucumbers have become wild things, and are now being trained to crawl and vine up my makeshift trellises of scavenged pieces of an old sauna and pieces of string strung from drain pipe to brick wall. the potatoes are growing tall, the tomatoes are too, and for once in my life, I've managed to keep rosemary alive for more than a week. my flowers are doing things unknown to my untrained eyes, but as long as I have pots-full of green, I'm happy enough with them. I can't eat them, anyway, so they factor in a little lower on my list of priorities. the mustard greens are moving slowly, but shooting up every couple of days. the onions remain a mystery, but occasionally I can cut their stalks and get a little somethin'-somethin' to add to my guacamole and stir-frys. the lettuce is glorious, not to mention keeping well in the fridge for far longer than I expected (wash the leaves, layer them between paper towels, seal them in a freezer bag, and eat salads for weeks). the oregano is sprouting purple flowers, so while it's terribly attractive, I'm trying not to pinch all of those precious leaves at once. the cilantro is right at home, and the mint has never given me a second of trouble. oh, and the basil! is there anything more satisfyingly productive than a good, strong basil plant? if there is, I haven't grown it, yet.
my mother, my wonderful mother, purchased some seeds for me as a last-minute last-ditch effort at getting some autumn vegetables in. Chicago's summer has been slow to start, which usually means it will be reluctant to end, so I think I'll have a good few months to grow a nice amount of squash, beets, spinach, Swiss chard, collards, and carrots. she also got me some huckleberries, which ought to be a fun/funny challenge, considering that I do not live in the northwest, and don't know how to grow bushes in buckets, but if it works out, it would sure be nice to never have to spend $20/lb. on what has become my absurdly sought after berry of choice. (I just like the sound of huckleberry kombucha, no matter that it could be done just as well, and has, with blueberries.)
I've become strict with myself, after two uncomfortable nights of destitute homelessness in Wisconsin (three nights of camping in comparatively luxurious surroundings -- hammock slung from tree, pouring rain -- were a welcome respite from wandering Owen Park until 2am, and eventually settling down in a constrained fetal position in the top tier of a playground castle, waking with only $2 in quarters in my pocket, which isn't quite enough for a warm coffee), and have started putting my various budgeted funds into envelopes with exclamated notes to myself -- "groceries, for 2 weeks!"; "spending, for 2 weeks, save what isn't spent!" I decided that for this week, I would see what $40 spent at the farmer's market would do for me, and was pleasantly surprised, most of all, that I was able to buy a pound of ground beef and a half dozen duck eggs! I also got kale, three summer squashes (of varying shapes and colors, for the prettiness of it all), three vine tomatoes, one green tomato (no self-respecting Southern girl could have passed up a tomato of such amazing firmness and, well, green-ness), four beautiful little blue potatoes, a pint of strawberries that I unceremoniously squished in the bottom of my market bag, and a round loaf of sourdough bread. it doesn't sound like much, but 1. it'll do, for simple meals, 2. I would rather eat foods of good quality than of great quantity, and 3. I like supporting farmers. so we'll see how this goes. I'm plenty stocked-up on rice, the backbone of nearly all of my meals, and I still have some mushrooms, raspberries, and half a cucumber in the fridge from last week. not to mention, my better-off friends have a kindly habit of leaving leftovers in the fridge at work and letting me know I can eat them -- today, I was able to add tortellini and salmon with pesto into the mix. I've also discovered, and albeit entirely too late in life, that not spending money can apparently be just as amusing as spending money, but often with better results. reaching into my back pocket, and discovering that three days after having received my automatically deposited paycheck, that I still have a twenty-dollar bill there, is endlessly amusing. when I get the itch to obtain something, I just go to the library instead, and that's how I ended up with new records to listen to, and a pile of books twice the height of my dogs.
so on with the complaining -- yesterday, I took a rather awful tumble out of my hammock, flat-backed onto the stairs of the fire escape (don't ask, because I'm embarrassed and it hurts too much to make a good story, for now), so a lot of these gardening and beekeeping activities have gone from the most pleasurable of chores, to a horrendous aching pain that I fear I'll never recover from. (yes, I realize I was only injured yesterday, and it will take a few days to feel better, but when you have an accident that could have just as easily left you paralyzed, I dare say you're allowed a bit of drama.) that being said, I would really like right now to lay flat on something warm, so while I'd love to say that I'll add a few pictures into this blog post, and call it a night, I'll probably only do the latter, and the former will have to wait for a day when sitting in any position that compliments a level typing surface doesn't make me cringe and moan. if I still have an audience, I hope you know that I appreciate you.
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