The sky above Lyons on Sunday night was surreal. It was one of those sunsets that made you hear bluesy angels.
I'd been exploring land and lots with Reid, both pretending we had enough money to build a dream reality. I just want a 3-5 acre mini-spread. Big enough to have a yoga yurt, some chickens, a big-ass garden and dogs ... for starters. When I picture my dream future, I see lots of hard physical work (compared to now, anyway) and a great deal of dirt. I also see a great big smile on my face.
Yes, something is happening to me and I've become drawn into all things homespun. My brother even noticed it when we hung out at mom's recently. He was watching me cook and commented with some confusion, "Hey, what are you, Holly Hobbie?"
Just last week, I cooked up a fine, yellow batch of homemade mustard. Okay, so it was for an article I was writing but still, I was pretty gung-ho about it. The result was mind-blowing and tongue-transfixing. Truly. Me and store-bought mustard are through.
Just last Sunday I found myself listening to the Broncos game while making homemade grape jelly. (Photo above - pure grape juice on sugar.) Unlike a true domestica, I got impatient and ended up using too much water so it's somewhere between jelly and syrup. I call it 'jerup.' It's so damn good, I'm tempted to put it on everything. I'm told that grape-jelly-bacon sandwiches are the best ...
Today, I spent several hours today tearing up the '09 Garden (RIP) and it felt so wonderful to be messing about in the dirt again, even if it was a sad occasion. Meanwhile, I'm saving up my pennies for 'farm school' and with any luck, I'll start to become useful.