Rub-a-dub-dub

I made a bathmat for my tub!

This weekend I decided that I needed to use up some towels. There are way too many for our closet and we have several that are just old and not very big. We also need a bathmat. So I made a bathmat out of the old towels.

I found a few that I really liked but this one caught my fancy first. It looks straight forward and added some interest since my old towels are drab.

I did a few things differently. First of all I didn't cut, I ripped. Mine has raggy edges but I like the way it looks. Also she said to sew around the outside first and that goes against everything I know about sewing so I didn't. I sewed all the vertical edges first then sewed all the horizontal ones.

My tips:
Pin the heck out of it. I mean it, get all those edges pinned as it shifts a lot. I did a pretty good job with mine, but even then when I got it to the sewing machine things had shifted. I actually ran out of pin and had to run out to JoAnnes. I have to say that was the worst part of the project was pinning it.

Keep track of how things are lining up. I had to keep making sure that I was not sewing through too many layers.A few of my corners have little holes. Don't bother looking you can't see them in the picture, but I know that they are there.

Also I didn't fold over my excess at the ends of the rows, I just cut it off. Mine has a very raggy look to it, but I  like it.

All in all a good Sunday project. I must say it reminds me of a checker cake.

Dollar Store Garden

Spring is here and seed catalogs are coming. Beautiful blooms and luscious veggies abound on their pages. Red tomatoes, green cucumbers, big bright yellow sunflowers, all bursting from the pages promising the ultimate in beauty and deliciousness. It is now that I find myself sorely missing open spaces to  plant those seeds in hopes for a rich harvest. Trying to lift my spirits I found myself wandering around the dollar store.

What to my wondering eye did I spy?

HERBS!

A little pot, some seeds, and peat pellets. Not much, and definitely nothing fancy. Yet the same promise is there that is in the seeds catalog. Fresh pesto, extra kick on salads, real fresh herbs for cooking.  I was not sure how these seeds would germinate, but heck for a buck how could I go wrong?


I bought chives and basil first.  Like I six year old I oohed and ahhed as I watched the peat soak up the water and turn from a little hard pellet into soft growing medium.Adding a few tiny seeds and cover them with a plastic lid.  Those little seedlings have sprouted! I am not sure how many more amazing things are in life than seeing that little green poke through the soil.

So I went back and got parsley and for some real fun ...daisies! I am going to plant those this weekend.

It might not be a whole garden full of exotic veggies like purple carrots and heirloom tomatoes, but in the city, I do what I can do!

Mary Janes Farm

I love this magazine and just had to share it. Mary Janes Farm is a modern old fashion farm girl's magazine. From stitching to cooking MJF is all about tradition, organic, sustainable, and earth friendly practices.

Some of my favorite articles have been about cooking. Making ketchup and crackers. Two things that I just always bought from the store. I loved the recipes and although I am not sold on making all of my ketchup and crackers I really love that I know how.

Along with the magazine is the Farm Girl Sisterhood. A bit like girl scouts for big girls! There are local chapters or you can do it all on line. Merit badges are awarded much like in Girl Scouts. They have badges in such things as: Going Green, Civic Heritage, Know Your Food, Backyard Farmer, Carp-hen-try, Stargazing Chicks, Knitting.

And I don't even have to live in the country either. To quote the website:

 " We’re country, we’re city, and every texture and stripe in between. It’s not at all about where we live, but how we live."

WOW ... Now that is the help I need to be a country girl in the city! See ya over in the hen house!

Happy Valentine's Day

There is something romantic about the country. The dew on the grass in the morning, the crowing of the roosters, smell of sweet hay, barns housing goats and ponies, nickers during feeding times.

One morning I was enjoying all of those things. Throwing hay to the horses and hearing them nicker their gratitude made me smile. The chickens where scratching at the door too their coop, eager to enjoy the sunshine and search for bugs. As I was throwing hay to the goats who were butting heads and fighting for the best strands of hay, I saw a little frog making he way through the grass. He struggle between the blades looking for a better place. I was thinking how lucky I was to be in the county. How fortunate I was to live in such an idyllic life. Then chicken came rushing up to me and spied the little frog in the grass.

The carnage! Chickens attacked the frog from all sides. I had to turn away as they ripped is little body apart. It was horrific.

No place is perfect. No person is perfect. No life is perfect.

I think that is what I am learning this year. I find just as much joy in the neighbors gardens, the twittering birds, the sassy squirrels down here as I did in those other things I loved about the country. I love my man with all my heart and walking the dogs through the neighborhoods is a perfect way to spend a comfortable fall day. I can't wait for spring to arrive and watch the city come alive in the same ways I watched the country.

Who said it .. grow where you're planted ...

Happy Valentine's Day all and I hope you find love where ever you look. 

Making stock

Garlic,  onions, carrots, celery, chicken bones, a few herbs and spices. Does anything smell better than making stock? It takes me back to my mother cutting up onions and carrots. She would put them in her old dutch oven, which was pitting and ancient looking then. The house would smell and I knew that in a day or two we would be feasting on chicken soup with spaetzle, chicken and dumpling or any number of other tasty dishes my mother would make.

I know that my grandmother and Nana also made stock. It gives me a certain sense of pride to cook like they did besides the benefits are numerous. Always one to save money, I love using up bones and scrapes of veggies that I would otherwise throw in the trash. It is more nutritious. No MSG in my stock, not to mention I can control what else goes into my stock. There are more vitamins and minerals in homemade stock than in store bought. Need more reasons? Check out Why Broth Is Beautiful.

 Today I found this link on Chicken Stock 101. She suggests using chicken feet and even the bones that we have eaten off of. What she says makes a lot of sense and I am going to try tweaking my recipe the next time I make it. A new bag is going to be added to my freezer of chicken bones too!

I do do a few things that work well for me. One is I collect my veggies. I have a bag in the freezer. I add in all my veggie scrapes. Celery that is starting to go limp, trimmings from onions and peppers, carrot tops, tails and peelings. Any veggies that are left over after a meal go into the bag. When it is time to make stock I add in the meat bones and put it all in the crockpot for 10 hour with some water.

After the stock is drained and ready to be used I pour it into ice cube trays. Yup that is right ice cube trays. When my little stock cubes are frozen I put them in a plastic bag in the freezer. So handy to add a cube here and there. I use it instead of oil when I can, add a little extra flavor to rice or pasta.

I look forward to turning my stock into a chicken meatball soup tomorrow. Yummm

Cooking for my man

I love to cook and make meals for my man. There is something satifying about sitting down for a meal together and knowing that I made our meal and that he enjoys it so much.

Part of the reason that I loved the country was getting meat where I knew it came from.  So I tend to grin and bear it when I shop. When I make trips up to Wisconsin I stop in at out local butcher and get some stuff I feel good about. There is just something about knowing that your meat was raise, slaughtered, and processed not far from where you are buying it. I hate picking up the Purdue package and knowing that those chickens had a really crappy life. Not to mention the people who raised  and processed the chicken were not treated much better. Tyson too. I hate those big name brands. Getting the unnamed stuff is not much better. I know that the chickens or beef where not raised anywhere around here.

Produce on the other hand. Well our local Caputos is the bomb. There are fresh veggies in there that I have no idea what to do with but I am having fun learning! Still working up the nerve on a lot of stuff. Mike is not as adventurous as I am when it comes to new things.

Hopefully this summer I can visit some of the farmer's markets that are all around us. 

Outing

Bored of sitting around the condo and wishing I was in Wisconsin with a friend at the Pet Expo, I got to feeling a bit restless. Restlessness is not an unknown feeling to me. I often feel restless and used to go for a ride, a walk, or just out in the yard to play with animals or garden. Now I get to be like a filly kept in her stall too long, just brimming with unused energy that is sure to show up in an unpleasant manner if not gotten out.

So Mike decided we should go on an outing. He loves to just say we are leaving at this time and not tell me where we are going. I have long ago given up asking for hints or begging him to tell me. He is just about as stubborn as me, and more so on some occasions. Sometimes we leave by train, others on a bus. Today we took the car.

Along the way Mike will clue me into the history of the places we are traveling though. I have seen the Dunkin Donuts once locally known as Punkin' Donuts because it was a notorious hang out for runaway and homeless teens. He tells me how the neighborhoods have changed, this one might not have been safe a several years ago but now it is a trendy place to live. We drove through Obama's neighborhood where "black and whites stand shoulder to shoulder to keep the poor out" as I was told yesterday. That is Hyde Park if you are wondering.

Our final destination yesterday was The Oriental Institute Museum

The Oriental Institute Museum is a world-renowned showcase for the history, art, and archaeology of the ancient Near East. The museum displays objects recovered by Oriental Institute excavations in permanent galleries devoted to ancient Egypt, Nubia, Persia, Mesopotamia, Syria, Anatolia, and the ancient site of Megiddo, as well as rotating special exhibits.

That is a quote from their website.
It is a wonderful little museum. Unlike so many of the other museums in Chicago, you can actually see the whole thing in one day.

They have some rather impressive artifacts: A 17 ft high statue of King Tut. large reliefs of oxen and horses, mummies and writings.

My eye always wanders to the items that showed what daily life was like. I marveled at the sewing needles that woman would sew with. They were so large and would have left a large hole in most of today's fabrics. Except I guess they were normally sewing on animal hide and material that was woven with rather coarse thread. I wish I had gotten a picture of it but didn't think to at the moment.

They also had beads made out of many materials: clay, stones, and even glass. The little drills they used to craft these times were made by them also. No running down to Michael's or over to JoAnns. I felt a bit spoiled and lazy to think of the number of time I have said to myself that I would do a craft if only I had this that and the other thing. My mother's house is filled with those gadgets, but these people just made everything they needed. I have to admit I admire that.

It dawns on me as I am looking at early sculptures that these were real people with real struggles living long ago. They had real obstacles to overcome. They had real human emotions. I wondered about the woman who crafted a bowl. What about the man that chiciled out the character on this stone tablet. Who is the little five year old boy that was mummified? What was his short life like? How did his parents grieve his death, not just in general terms of what is customary of the day, but how did HIS parents deal with it.

Answers I will never know, but ponder.

To see more of what I saw please visit my other blog Fearless Riding. I show more of the horse related artifacts there.