I Want a Strawberry Sandwich

This was my little boy's  declaration at lunchtime today.

"A strawberry sandwich?"

"Yup. With butter. On banana bread."

 Sounds interesting, I thought. "Okay."

And we came up with something new. I have to say, I was skeptical, but not only was this sandwich pretty, it was pretty good! Like fresh-baked, homemade summer.

Anyone want to try it? Okay!

But you can't make it without our yummy-scrummy whole wheat banana -oat bread, so, if you're inclined to do some baking in the heat of July (maybe late at night like I do), here's the recipe. Good for strawberry-butter sandwiches, but it also stands alone.

Heat oven to 350°

Coat bottom and sides of 13x9 pan with cooking spray (it's a bread that eats like a cake)

In large mixing bowl whisk together:

1 c whole wheat flour

1 1/2 c unbleached all purpose flour

1/2 cup raw sugar

1 1/2 tsp baking soda

1 tsp baking powder

In separate bowl combine wet ingredients:

4-5 medium ripe bananas, mashed

1/2 cup salted butter

1/2 cup whole milk

2 large eggs

1 tsp almond extract

Blend together wet and dry ingredients and pour mixture into pan. Top with:

1 heaping handful rolled oats

1 generous sprinkling cinnamon

Bake 40-45 min.

♥Yum♥

If you try it, let me know if you like it. You won't find a whole lot of 'cooking' per se, on this little blog, but baking? Oh, honey. Mamma can bake.

Ah, Summer!

Dear Summer,

       I dread your coming. To speak quite plainly, you are an inconsiderate guest. You bring with you long, hot days that make me cranky and tired, swarming mosquitoes, allergies, tics. I wish I could usher you quickly in, smell your fresh cut grass, take one trip to the beach, sip lemonade for an hour or two, then bid adieu and welcome Autumn to stay as long as it likes. But as many things as I can do, I cannot change the seasons, and so you come. And every year, you tame me with the overwhelming magic of what you can be. 

Like after dinner runs through the backyard sprinkler, fully clothed (Mom too).

Or wet hugs in the sunshine from friends who've come to play.

You are bare bellies, and tickle-y beetles...

You are bonfires with friends and magic nights when the sun is still up at 10:00.

You are sparklers and fireworks watched from the roof...

You are the anticipation of movies we've waited forever to see (Expecto Patronum!).

        Summer, I have underestimated you. But I thank you now for the memories you've helped our family to make. Alright. You can stay. For a few more weeks anyway. And maybe--maybe-- next year you could come again.

♥

Thrifty Party at Southern Hospitality

Hey Blogland. The always resourceful Rhoda over @ Southern Hospitality has a thrifting party every Monday so we can all show and share our weekend yard sale/thrift store/free-on-the-curb finds. What fun, what fun! Check it out!

(And read her About Me page if you have a minute. It is inspiring.)

Happy Birthday America

I think the occasion calls for a little Walt Whitman, don't you? Enjoy.

Happy 4th!
♥

Summer Getaway

Whenever I can, I visit this place:

Taffy Island. When the kids are playing in the yard and I'm sitting in the porch swing, or after I've read to them and tucked them in at night, they travel to the lands of their imagination and dreams and I travel to the land of mine. I get to go there much more often now that summer is here.

It's a place where a boy named Gideon and a girl named Ruby (who is Gideon's sister, but not really) visit their grandmother: the white-haired woman who lives alone (but didn't always) in the cottage surrounded by sea. It's a place where the three of them have been left by others, to not ask questions, to sit and wait, and a place where they decide not to.

But most of all, Taffy Island is a place I hope to share with the world someday in the form of a novel. Or two. Or three. And I hope the world will love it as much as I do.

The End Result

My mother and father-in-law are in town this week and a coule of nights ago, we all set up up a nearby canyon to have a fire, roast hot dogs, and s'more it up. I had my camera on hand (as every mom of adorable children should) and snapped some memories of the kids exploring...

...the camp fire smoldering...

...and a few of the wildflowers that were absolutely everywhere...

But the evening light grew dim, so my MiL and I decided to come back early the next morning to shoot wildflowers in the light of the new day. Which we did. I got out my 100-300mm lens, stood in a meadow with columbine and lady slippers and busy buzzing bees and morning dew, and got some okay shots. But, surprisingly, my favorite shots of the day came when we headed back out of the canyon and stopped to change lenses and photograph this:

I know they're not spectacular, but there was something about the stillness of that little pasture and its gurgling stream that I loved. So, wildflowers? Yes...but not the macro shots we set out for.

And that got me thinking...I'm going to wax philosophical today, if you don't mind... about the end result. The end result of everything...my art, my writing, my life...none of which ever really go along the way I plan them, the way I imagine they should. And yet, I'm nearly always pleased with the end result. When I sit down to draw, for example, and in my mind I see a boy and a girl walking through the woods in spring, but what comes out at the the end is a boy, alone, following a line of bunnies to their hollow log in winter. Huh. But I like it.

Or this novel I've been writing for the past three years which was originally told from the point of view of the little sister, but as I wrote I found I knew the older brother better...that his voice was the one I wanted to use. And now everything is told from Gideon's viewpoint...and I like it.

Or my life. My husband and I always intended to have three or four children. Now, we have two and will probably (not definitely, but probably) not have more. We never intended to homeschool our children, but when the time came it was what was right for us. And when I put my art and my creative impulses on hold to study psychology in college, I didn't know that life would bring me back around and I would figure out how to be true to me.

I could go on. There are a million facets of our lives that we didn't plan; that are not what we expected them to be. But just as that impulsiveness and change--and the ability to go along with it-- creates beauty in art, so it also creates beauty in life. And I like it.

I'm learning, constantly learning, not to compare myself with others or wish for what wasn't or what could be. My end result is what I make of the changes that come, and I am grateful to be me. In our church, we use a book of scripture called The Doctrine and Covenants. One of my favorite passages from this book is this:

11For all have not every ^agift given unto them; for there are many gifts, and to every man is given a gift by the Spirit of God.

 12To some is given one, and to some is given another, that all may be profited thereby.

We all have gifts. Yours are yours. Mine are mine. By each of us using what we've been given rather than wishing things were what we planned them to be, we help each other create an end result. Hopefully, we all like it.

Color: Study of a Mermaid

I love color. And technology. I mean, really, I'm a simple, home-body type girl at heart and most of the time, technology and the 'digital age' don't make my Raindrops on Roses/ Whiskers on Kittens short list. But when it comes to color... allow me to explain:

Most of my artwork is done with ink and watercolor in an illustrative style; which means I (usually) draw the forms and shapes first and then color them afterward- either with watercolor paints or cut paper collage or some combination of the two. I've found that when I get to the point of choosing a color palette for a piece, it's probably the hardest part of the process- for me, at least. I can sometimes stare at a piece for hours and hours over the course of several days before I decide what color the eyes or the flower or the turtle or whatever should be. And the reason, I think, that color stops me in my tracks is the same reason that I love it: the possibilities of color combinations and the different kinds of beauty they can create are...endless. Ultimately, the choice I make for, say, this Study of a Mermaid

is a choice that I love but certainly not the only choice that would work, nor the only option I considered. Which brings me to why I love this modern age of technology, when, with a little know-how and a little time, my Sanford NoBlot Blue can become...

...a phosphorescent lichen green, or...

...wild rose pink...

...or a golden sepia, or any other color I want it to be.

Because mermaids aren't only blue (just so you know). And color is infinite possibility.