Not Quite A Bento

Okay, let me begin by saying that this is not quite a bento. I would call it a bentoesque snack tray and admittedly, it is in no way as lovely or artistic as the bentos or snack trays I have been looking at the past couple of weeks. I made it for my Guinea pig husband last night. Not exactly a masculine meal, but he loved it and suggested I take a picture. So here it is, my first documented bentoesque snack. Homemade cinnamon applesauce, fresh figs, marinated cucumbers, carrot sticks, jewel tomatoes, zucchini sticks, ranch dressing, whole wheat crackers, cheese triangle, ham roll ups, cheddar sheep, and banana and Nutella mini sandwiches.

Not so bento and not so pretty, but I'm proud all the same.

Happy day, peeps!

XOXO

Slushy

Elkin Farmers Market

Every Saturday I visit the Elkin Farmers Market for all sorts of amazing home grown, local and organic produce, plants, baked goods, even soap, and believe me, it never disappoints. I highly recommend planning a trip some Saturday to partake in the goodness. And while you are in town, visit some of the local vineyards and historic downtown Elkin for antiques, books and art. The Elkin Farmers Market is located in the parking lot at the corner of Bridge Street and Market Street. Vendors sell their wares from 9am-12pm.

Look at the amazing assortment of produce! Vendor Yer Vang grows fruits and vegetables native to North Carolina as well as Laos, which makes for an interesting display.

Those prickly things at the bottom right hand corner are cucumbers! I haven't tried them yet, but I plan to next weekend! How cool are they?

And you can find more than just produce at the market. Just have a look at the beautiful pottery by Georgie Stone. Doesn't it look like there are little fish swimming on the inside of the pitcher? Lovely!

Here are Eli's new obsession....little colorful tomatoes grown by Poke Berry Farms. They have a name but to me they look like little jewels. When Eli sees them he screams, "More!" In addition to these tomatoes, they also sell herbs and plants. I got my birthday spider plant here.

I am no stranger to these breads. Since weaning myself from buying only the yummy cheese bread, I have sampled the Extra Seedy Whole Wheat and the Raisin Breads. Superb! But I have to say that (so far) the cheese bread is my favorite.

Now, blueberry lovers, here are by far the best and sweetest blueberries you will EVER taste. I don't know what variety of berry these are, but they are like little sugar pearls.They are so sweet that I bought a container after picking 5 gallons myself. Eli loves them. You can purchase these from Ed and Cathy Powell of Blueberries at Cabin Trail. And I wouldn't pass up Cathy's blueberry muffins.  

Anyone that knows me knows that I am obsessed with handmade soaps. In fact, I have a huge stash in a basket in our bathroom cabinet. As soon as I have pared down a few bars, I plan on buying a nice fragrant bar from Carmen Lee O'Dell of Made By Willing Hands. In addition to bath soaps, she carries shaving mugs, soap holders and the like.

And if you are in the market for some beautiful plants, Kevin Campbell has a wide variety to choose from. I just love the ornamental pepper plants he carries. And this fall we may plant a raspberry plant. Kevin writes a blog called Foothill Plant Treasures. Check it out sometime for information about regional foliage.

Enjoy music while your browse the booths. Here is The Couch Family playing Bluegrass Gospel music.

And last but certainly not least, Beaver Creek Farms has some wonderful potatoes and squash.

And here is Yer Vang amidst her fabulous produce! Does she look proud or what?

Farewell for now, friends. Hope to see you at the Elkin Farmers Market this weekend.

XOXO

Slushy

Bentos!!!!

Image by miheco via Flickr

Recently I have come across an amazing blog! And if you have small children or simply a penchant for dainty and interesting containers, I suggest you visit Bentobloggy.

Since I was a little girl I have been making myself neat plates of finger foods and little cut up sandwiches with a wine glass of Cheerwine or Ginger Ale along side. And I cannot even put into words my love of Hello Kitty stuff. So imagine my surprise at discovering the sweet little bentos Emily creates on Bentobloggy! Amzaing little snippets of food packed into adorable, even chic, containers! Oh joy!

Needless to say, I have been scouring my cabinets and the Internet for these cute little bento boxes and all of the food picks and cut outs. And in the spirit of bentos, I made myself a bentoesque meal Friday night. Sorry, no picture, but I promise to take one of the next little bentoesque meal I make for myself. On my son's little divided tray I served myself carrot sticks, celery sticks, mini cheese triangles, beef roll ups and whole wheat crackers. What a treat! Believe me, I'll be doing this again. And I have a Guinea pig in my 9 year old brother-in-law. He will be sampling my trial bentos before school.

Still I have no bento of my own as of yet. But I have entered the Bentobloggy bento-giveaway in hopes of scoring my very first. Of course, while you are checking out that amazing blog, you should enter the giveaway yourself.

Happy day, friends!
Slushy

Two Weeks

Image by AnnieGreenSprings via Flickr

Two Weeks

My husband was gone two weeks,
before his father tracked him
down, dragged him back to me,
afro crowned with lint, cheeks
sunken. I ran him a bath, scrubbed
his body, his head, picked the lint out,
the way he picked at the carpet
when he thought I wasn’t looking.


Published in the Summer 2006 issue of r.kv.r.y quarterly literary journal
http://www.ninetymeetingsinninetydays.com/TwoWeeks.html

XOXO
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Out with the Neighbors; In with the Jelly

This year we lost some great neighbors to this horrific economy. They are self-employed and had to give up their home this May. We couldn't have asked for better neighbors, and it turns out that we couldn't have asked for better grapes! They left behind a beloved scuperdine vine that we've been watching since they moved out. We expected the grapes to come in in late August, but they ripened early this year, as most things around here have. Thank God there have been no takers on the house yet! Otherwise, we may have missed out on some massive bounty. We decided to pick the entire vine and make our first ever scuperdine jelly this week.

Since my father-in-law is selling antiques for us this week in Crossville, TN at the World's Longest Yard Sale, my brother-in-law Bud has come to stay with us. Bud just turned 9 years old. He helped us pick the grapes.

Keep in mind that we are newbies at this whole jelly making process. We decided to harvest the grapes at 7pm Wednesday evening and it took about an hour to cut the grapes off this one vine. Everyone chipped in, even Eli, until we had to pull him off the grapes. He started eating them out of the bucket...seeds.

I was surprised at the amount of grapes that were on the vine--8 gallons--and at just how heavy they were! Bud was even having a hard time holding them up.

Here is what we were left with after stemming and cleaning the grapes, three big bowls (courtesy of Eli) full.

Like I said, we are novices. By this point it is somewhere around 9pm and we have not washed or sterilized any bottles, lids or rings. Uh....crap! So we bust out the trusty cooker and this is what the bottom looks like: Doesn't it look just like a smiley face? This was my clue to stay positive, the sign that our jelly would rock!

Finally we get all the blasted jars sterilized and moved to cooling racks next to the stove. This might be an excellent place to mention how now more than ever I truly appreciate the convenience of a well thought out, modern kitchen. Ours, while cute, is not one of them. We live in an older house with a stand alone stove and no dishwasher. Love it! But it's not the easiest to work in.

Now, onto the grapes, which we boiled in two massive doses. It seemed like it took forever for them to boil! By this point it is probably 11:30. This is just a guess because by this point in the evening I had already begun to wonder why I chose to begin making jelly so late.

After we boiled all the grapes we ran them through a sieve. I was too tired at this point to remember to take a picture of the sieve. I'm sure you understand. After crushing the grapes in the sieve, we poured the juice through double ply cheese cloth to remove any extra pulp. By this time, it's early Thursday morning and it seemed as though the juice would NEVER strain through the cloth!

Here is my trusty blue funnel through which I poured the yummy goodness of scuperdine jelly. Yes, the pictures of the jelly cooking in the pot are also missing because it was just too early and the jelly was way too hot to mess around with. Anyway, just look at the jelly shimmering in the jar! Ignore the gooey mess on the stove top.

At 3am we finally finished up the jelly. I say finished, but we had only cooked half of the juice we rendered. The next day we made the second half. And on Friday we finished up the final 5 pint batch. Here is our massive bounty. And now is time to give Mr. Daddy Man props for his marvelous design.

So we survived our first jelly making experience and I must tell you that our jelly straight rocks! And I would spend about 3 full paragraphs blabbing on and on about it, but we are in the middle of making blueberry jam as I type this. But I did promise you I'd post this and I'm already a day late. So, farewell for now, friends; blueberry jam to come.

XOXO

Slushy

Our Child Is a Slug, or: I'm Too Jelly Tired To Actually Write

Those of my minuscule following who read my Facebook know that I was up until all hours of the night making scuperdine jelly. This has taught me two things. 1. I can be successfully domestic. 2. I cannot stay up until 3am and function like a normal human anymore. I feel I had only six or so months of that skill left in reserve and I used them up when Eli was an infant. No, today is a day I wish I could just stay in bed and eat a liquid diet to avoid the repetitive movements of walking or lifting a utensil to my pie hole. But this cannot be.

Our fabulous Eli, however, has this down to a science. He is a slug, not the active child we thought. Just look at him. I am almost embarrassed by his level of slugdom.

Please observe how he has even avoided using finger muscles by propping his "bot" on his monkey woobie and arm. This child has mad talent!

I promise to post about our jelly adventures today or tomorrow. Well, honestly, you shouldn't expect much today. I have to go to God forsaken Chuck E. Cheese's this evening for a birthday celebration. Fun!

Rest well, peeps. Eli certainly does.
a jelly tired Slushy

The Poet Visits Her Father-in-Law

Image by Boz Bros via Flickr

There may be a couple of you in my tiny group of 8 followers who know I'm a writer. If you are simply stopping by to read a post or two I'm sure it is in no way apparent from my writing on this blog that I have any writing skills to speak of. Here's the sad thing: I have an MFA in creative writing. (I know....who could have imagined!) And up until recently--well really the past few years--I was actively writing poetry and non fiction, publishing even. Let's just say I've had a lot going on, and I'll fill you in more about all of this as my blog continues.

One of my goals with this blog is to reclaim my writing, to remind myself who I am and what I want to do. So, from time to time I will be posting published and unpublished poems, essays and memoir excerpts. The following is an essay published in the Winter 2007 issue of Brevity, a marvelous online literary journal. And here is a link if you wish to see it in published form. http://www.creativenonfiction.org/brevity/past%20issues/brev23/hagy_poet.htm

The Poet Visits Her Father-in-Law

Scum on the handle of the refrigerator and a giant greasy handprint on the glass kitchen table. He has turned his cup upside down again and a pool of orange juice coagulates on the clear surface. He uses the same Styrofoam cup every day, never rinses it. Never throws it away. The knife is lying on the table, the same knife he uses to spread peanut butter, jelly and mayonnaise on his boiled eggs. He will use it for months unless you take it away, and never figure out why he has crapped all over the toilet and himself.

No pictures hang in the hallway, only black handprints marking his path. He never washes his hands or cuts his fingernails. Cheesy yellow grime glows beneath his nails. He refuses to take more than one bath a week, never changes his boxers or pajamas. A crusty brown ring circles the mouthpiece of the nebulizer. Twice a day he sits at the table and breathes in the misty air, coughs deep and brings up something alien; he spits it in the kitchen trashcan he keeps between his legs.


Swimming pools were his business. He smoked and drank, and smoked. Emphysema is drowning him, but he’s not sure if it came from smoking or because he is allergic to pine trees. “It’s from smoking,” I tell him. He coughs and I gag. The light behind him shines on his face, his profile a half moon.


He’s in the habit of humming when he breathes. Habit not necessity. When I hear that hum tightness clinches my jaw and pulls on my back. His oxygen tank buzzes and vibrates my teeth when I sit slack-jawed on the couch. He has no teeth. He smacks his food, smears it along his gums, and hums and hums. His hands shake the spoon, slapping it against the place mat.


The other day he taught me how to make his chorizo and eggs. He taught me to warm the flour tortillas on the burner of the stove, like they do in Texas. Then his humming turned into a song. His smacks and slapping spoon turned to drum beats and the sizzle of the pan became our tambourine.


XOXO
Slushy