Craft: along May - Not one to learn from history

Dear Donk,

Not sure if you remember the fun times I had with glass etching and The Perfect Cake Stand, but I thought of that project repeatedly while I was working on the Embellished Tank for this month's Craft: along.

Specifically the part in the instructions that said, "Use "a large, cute font. Unless you're a glutton for punishment..."

What? This project doesn't have any fonts involved? Yeah, still. I'm sure that a super complicated pattern used to embellish a tank top rather than a nice simple giant flower like they so expertly use in the example falls into about the same category.

The giant simple flower here is no mistake.

The category called, "Use a large, cute design. Unless you're a glutton for punishment."

I guess we've determined that I am a glutton for punishment. Because I felt pretty punished after getting done cutting out the super complicated AND WHY DO HEY HAVE SO MANY PETALS flowers with my Xacto knife.

Why would I do this? Why wouldn't I choose some nice big round shape that would take five seconds and leave me with working use of my right hand?

Because that would go against every fiber of my being. That is why.

Anyway, thankfully that's where the similarities between this project and the fiasco with the cake stand end.

Apparently there are a few things I did learn from that first project, even though the whole "Keep it simple" part didn't stick. For one, I didn't just try this out on my favorite tank top of all time or one that couldn't be readily replaced from Old Navy for $6 if I fucked it up.

No, no, I learned that lesson the hard way and went ahead and "tested" it out on one of my many white wife-beaters, the destroying of which wouldn't leave me in tears in my kitchen holding a sharp Xacto precariously close to main arteries.

So that's something.

Also, my "test" turned out to be a winner, so YAY! What that really does, though, is encourage my original line of thinking that goes something like, "I'll do a practice run and by some miracle it'll come out PERFECT. Then, I'll be all, I am such a pro at this, and go to do the real one only to make a big mess and then I'll have wasted my talent ..."

And I'm not so sure I should keep my brain thinking this way since all it seems to lead to are wrecked craft supplies, BUT I DIGRESS.

The tank came out fairly well, especially given my Most Complicated Pattern To Cut Out Ever that adhered fabulously to the front of the top.

Just go ahead and ignore the stretchy straining of the ribbing going on there. Of all the things I calculated when adhering this thing, boob-stretchage was not one of them.

When will I remember that I'm 1/4 boobs?

Thankfully the shadows hide the true nature of the stretchage. That ribbing is a naughty one.

So, how're your projects tracking for the month? I think I need to go get a clock kit now. That's next on my list.

By the way, if you're looking to do some crafting for a good cause, crafthope.com has a doll-making project going on right now that will hopefully result in a gaggle of cheerful dolls for orphaned girls of Nicaragua. It's pretty hard to resist.

xo
Finny

Another reason to think mean things about me

So, I've gone back and forth about whether to let y'all in on my latest situation because everyone I've told about this situation has pretty much reacted the same way and this is the same way that makes me hate people.

That way is by saying, "It must be nice..." in that snarky evil way where you know they're finishing the sentence in a very mean way silently to themselves so that later they can huddle up in their evil house and talk MAJOR smack about how it must be nice to have XYZ or be XYZ or whathaveyou. (FYI: This is how the Shitty Neighbors got their name.)

This is probably one of the few phrases that can make me immediately hate someone. This and, you know, one where someone outrightly insults my mommy, Bubba or the dog.

Talk shit about the cat all you want.

But since you'll likely see evidence of my current situation here on the blog and because you all proved yourselves to be lovely supporters of my last Reason To Think Mean Things About Me, I've decided I trust you to not trot out that tired line in the comments unless you are ready for me to hate you with the hate of a thousand Rockets.

I know. That is a lot of hate. I just want you to be prepared.

So, what is this Reason To Think Mean Things About Me?

I'm on sabbatical.

For two months.

As in, I do not have to go to work at all during the two most beautiful months of the year and instead get to do just whatever the hell I want which will include but not be limited to; riding my bike to pilates, making every recipe that suits my fancy, crafting lots, racing out of state, beaching with the dog, visiting with my goddaughter, seeing a new-to-me national park with two of my best gals, gardening until I can garden no more, taking a course in beekeeping, etc.

So, yes. Before you can say anything (I like you all too much to let that happen), it IS nice.

And I realize, it's also a little crazy. Because the company for which I work is extremely generous and thoughtful with benefits and they believe that after a certain number of years of loyal service, you should be able to take a few months off to do whatever rejuvenates your personal soul.

Or something like that.

And, believe me, even *I* think it's a little ridic.

I mean, I'm barely out of my twenties and I've only been out in the professional working world for a decade and do I really *need* a sabbatical because isn't that something that only tenured professors get after a quarter century's worth of mind-numbing dedication and personal sacrifice?

I dunno.

But they're giving it to me, so I'm taking it. And I'm going to just go about doing whatever the hell rejuvenates this personal soul of mine for the next two months because, Hi - it's my job now.

So, alls I'm saying is that if you see lots more projects cropping up here or start to wonder how in the world I've racked up enough vacay time to travel to three states in two months, you'll know. It's because I'm on Must Be Nice Sabbatical and I'm using every last minute of it to rejuvenate my soul.

Or something like that.

So, who's ready to go the library? A lot of soul rejuvenation happens there, I've heard.

Running update: Month of 11s

Last Saturday marked the first of my 11 mile runs and while you might think I'd be stressed about the mileage, I was more concerned about the after-mileage effects that have historically occurred as a result of my 11 mile runs.

Even though I didn't have any big plans for the day, I didn't want to be strapped to the loo like in recent years.

Thankfully, Excedrin-gut wasn't an issue as I didn't wake up with a migraine, and so, I went on my way running 11 miles with my Camelbak and Luna Moons as planned, trotting past the Too-Far-To-Drive-To Lunardi's market right on schedule.

Except people were still sorta staring at me. Like I was a freak. Like, Hey, Mable, should we call a cab for that poor girl because why else would someone be outside in shorts IN THE RAIN early on a Saturday morning?

Yes. Thank you, Nature, for blessing my first 11 mile run with a 2 hour deluge which had me soaked to the skin by mile 5.

Yay.

And then, thanks again, Nature, for sharing that special weather with me this morning as I went out for my 3 mile tempo run so that my neighbors could just reaffirm their belief that they live next to a certifiable maniac.

That's the only reasonable explanation as to why a woman of questionable fitness would be running around town at 7am in shorts and a tank top during a complete downpour.

I often think that if I actually looked the way I imagine myself to look (yes, I'm delusional, this is true) rather than the way I actually look, people would think I was, like, a hardcore athlete instead of a crazy person out trying to get in shape on a whim.

I think this goes back to my whole self-conscious runner image problem.

Anyway, despite the fact that I still don't look like this chick, despite years of running (can you believe it's been years now? Crazy.), I like to think that running in the rain gives me some points on the board for those days when I have to bow out of my runs due to extreme heat. Like I feel less guilty for not running on those days because, well, I ran in the rain damn it and that is dedication right there.

Pay no mind to the fact that running in extreme heat is my excellent and proven way of getting heatstroke and should, in itself, be a deterrent. Not important! You know me to be ridiculous!

And speaking of ridiculous, I have actually hatched a plan for running hills in preparation for the hilly Seattle Rock N Roll Half Marathon and this plan is called...dun dun dun...

The Dish.

If you live in the Bay Area, you've likely heard of The Dish. And, if you've heard of The Dish, you've likely heard someone bitching about The Dish. Perhaps something to the tune of, "I walked The Dish on Saturday and GEEZUZ am I still sore."

And that is because The Dish sucks. To walk. Because it's hilly and steep in places.

Now, I will say, that if you follow that link I plopped in up there, you'll see Yelp reviews from psychos that love The Dish and like to talk about what a great workout it is and that is because people in the Bay Area are crazies. Fitness crazies.

I don't think it hurts that The Dish is in the Stanford Foothills and I think we all know that Stanford=Crazy. (Sorry, Cal fan, here.)

Regardless, the legitimacy of The Dish's hills are renowned and so, I will be doing my hill training on them. It is possible that there will be tears. And there will definitely be swearing. Likely, I will be passed by someone wearing American flag shorts because that is my life.

A life of shame and slow running and being humiliated during most runs by a man in his 70s passing me with his flag shorts just whipping in the wind.

To make things all the more perfect, I'll just assume that it'll either be 90 degrees out or raining the rain of a thousand winters.

Yay for the Month of 11s.

Adopt a Crop update: Some firsts

Our weather of late has been, let's say, absurd.

First, it was Normal Spring. Sorta rainy and cool and, like, the perfect time to be growing lettuce and not really seeing any progress otherwise. I was as fine with this setup as any, seeing as warmer temps were coming soon and the tomatoes would stop doing nothing and, instead, start doing something. Like growing.

Then, it was HOLY SHIT SUMMER. Suddenly, after idyllic spring weather lulled us into thinking our normal seasonal routines would be honored, we had three 90+ degree days in a row, and every single thing in the yard freaked out in one way or another.

Plus, we were trying to dig our shorts out of storage as fast as possible and I'd quickly given the finger to all my closed-toe shoes and was re-igniting the love affair with my flip-flops.

The tomatoes grew half a foot in three days, put out blossoms and acted like they'd cracked the shell of springtime hibernation. The beans all germinated and made for the lines. The lettuce put on its Time To Bolt hat and began to expand upward. All the cukes germinated. The basil put on new sets of leaves. The lemon tree covered itself in a blanket of blossoms and smelled like heaven. The artichoke became monstrous. The apple tree started sprouting leaves from branches I'd thought to be dead or just for looks.

It was, to put it plainly, fucking crazy.

Then, WHOOPSY it became spring again. Like, early spring. Like, rainy and cold and maybe there's going to be frost and it was a total gip.

Then, it became muggy. Rainy and muggy and warm enough for shorts but don't think of walking around town in them with your flip-flops because it's raining and people will say rude things to you, like, "You do realize it's raining, right? Aren't you cold in your shorts?"

Um, no. I'm not. Because it's like friggen Hawaii right now with this muggy rain so I'll wear shorts and drink a mai tai on the street if I feel like it and I'll thank you to stay out of my personal affairs.

That's sorta where we stand now. It's been raining all weekend and, now, it's supposed to rain tomorrow a bit, and it would seem that the plants got all dressed up with nowhere to go and have decided to go back to the closet for their sweats (or shorts!) since no one is taking them out to dinner after all.

It's sometimes a confusing and disappointing life to be a vegetable plant around here.

However, amidst all the changing into sweats and old ratty hoodies, there have been some good garden firsts.

For the record though, let it not ever be said that rain is a bad thing. We need more rain in CA to stave off drought and keep the news tards from warning of imminent chaos due to Mandatory Rationing and also the plants all seem to respond better to natural rainfall than an extra shot with the sprinklers. So, even though it's been cooler than expected, there's still some growth and extra greenery, and I will accept this. Happily. Because even though the plants really like heat, I start to melt down a little when it goes over 90 degrees.

And I just made plans to go to Phoenix at the end of the month. Hi, I'm retarded.

Anyway- some firsts. Garden firsts:

First lettuce harvest

First strawberry harvest

First beans on the lines

First artichoke to emerge

First cilantro to germinate

First monstrous blossom on the tomatoes

First cherry to turn real red

First full row of corn to germinate

First cucumber to put on its third set of true leaves. (Ok, not a notable "First", but it's the adopted crop, so I had to say something.)

First harvests recorded on the Garden Tracker.

That's right. I've harvested a few cups of lettuce and basil and half a dozen strawberries, so that kicks off the Reap portion of the tracker. Until now we've only been in the Sow category, and now I'm getting what's coming to me.

I hope.

I mean, I hope what's coming to me are pounds and pounds of vegetables and fruits from our garden and not, like, a swift braining with the shovel for being a yard wench and insisting that we save all the bark mulch from the pending contractors by moving it back around the vegetable beds.

I can't have a Bobcat scooping up all of my precious mulch, right?

Oh, also, we're having our patio worked on soon, so you know, many mind-numbing accounts of scary contractor work to come. Probably some shitty neighbor interactions, too. Should be a good time. Stay tuned.

Craft: along 2009 : May

Dear Donk,

You may not have realized it from my so-enthusiastic-I-made-a-video response to last month's ~along, but I wasn't exactly looking forward to hatching this project.

Like, in theory, I liked the idea of having a chalkboard inside one of my cabinet doors or a cork board for pinning up recipes, but in reality, I couldn't get past the fact that I'd have chalkboard dust flying around my clean dishes or recipes flapping back and forth every time I opened the door.

Yes, I think about things too much, perhaps. These long runs give me lots of time to mull the what ifs about EVERYTHING and sometimes, this not a good thing.

In this case, however, I spent last Saturday morning's long run trying to figure out how I was going to Super Organize a cabinet, while resisting the urge to smear chalkboard paint all over the place. In the end, I just decided to reuse a bunch of containers I'd collected/saved/washed and held aside/stolen from Bubba's belongings to introduce some kind of organization to my most used kitchen space - the baking cabinet.

In the end, I was so extra satisfied and happy with how it came out, I thought it deserved some special recognition, and so I made a video that is further evidence as to my Crazy. Yay me.

Meanwhile, while I was having this soul-searching project crisis, other people in the along were just kicking some serious ass- and all without the "what about the effects of chalk dust on the cleanliness of my gravy boat" drama.

Y'all are stronger folks than I. That is plain to see.

The most impressive ass-kicking I saw, in the Organize Like a Mutha category, was Not Quite Vintage's pantry overhaul.


Now, I'm not going to pass any judgment on the Before situation, because you saw my personal shame of a hundred zippie bags of misc crap, but that After photo is just loverly. And not only because she managed to use every organizational tool imaginable, but also because those things all WORKED in her pantry.

See, I get all juicy when I see these types of contraptions at Target or wherever, like the shelf hangy basket thing or the stair-stepper spice shelf thing, but if I were to bring those home and try to put them to use in my pantry, it'd a big fat hot failure, because I can't seem to get them to get all in there right.

But, NQV? She rocked them all just the way the manufacturer envisioned.

All said, you win, Not Quite Vintage. Congrats! Send me your full name and address to finnyknitsATgmailDOTcom and I'll send you off your prize. And you go enjoy that pantry some more - maybe open it and survey its greatness once just for me. If I were in your house right now, I'd be staring in there and probably stealing some ideas. You know, for the day I have a proper pantry.

Now, that brings me to May's projects.

If y'all follow the Craft: blog like I do (although I find it hard to believe anyone is quite as nutty and obsessive as I am), you might have seen potential projects flying by all month. I personally starred over a dozen things and I WAS BEING REALLY PICKY.

I am a known abuser of the Star feature in Reader, let it be known.

When it came down to choosing, though, I went with the projects that solve issues which have been recently slapping me in the face.

Specifically:

• I really need a clock in the bathroom so that I know how long I have to blow dry my haystack before I have to pick up my carpool buddy
• I wish all my tank tops were like these because they're cute enough to distract people from the fact that you're just wearing a wife-beater, which is important given the fact that I wear these year round and in the approaching warmer months, they make up half of my externally facing outfit.

Can you guess what I choose from those rambling clues?

That's OK, I won't make you.

This month's projects are:

Sewing Project: Embellished OR Tie Top Tank

Other Project (Upcycling): Tin Letterpress Clock

Now, for all of these projects, don't get too hung up on exactly how they're executed in the examples. I mean, if you want to embellish a Tshirt or Gstring instead of a tank top, I won't hunt you down and smash your toenails with pliers. And if you want to make a clock from something other than a leftover letterpress card, that's fine, too.

I'm just imagining the photo pool filled with fusible interfacing embellishments and some misc junk upcycled into useful clocks. And also your best examples of a tie top tank, if that's what suits your fancy.

If the pool doesn't fill up with these things, I imagine at least my own house will, as my addictions run deep and true, with tank tops and upcycled goods at the top of that list.

Alright, enough of my blathering. Get ta craftin'.

xo
Finny

How I hope to not fuck up this sweater

So, hi there.

You know I'm working on this sweater for Bubba. And that there have been a few obstacles cropping up between me and the Long Awaited Sweater Success. But you also know that these obstacles have not been of the "Finny Created" variety, but more of "The World Doesn't Want This Sweater To Happen in a Reasonable Period of Time" variety.

To put it plainly, I haven't done any horseshit knitting to cause these delays, which is my usual modus operandi, especially with projects this large.

Well, that was all fine and good until WHOOPSY I had some cocktails and proceeded to horseshit knit myself right through the shoulder decreases all the while self-convincing that the weirdness I was seeing was attributable to my blurred vision rather than a result of actual bad pattern following (ie. Horseshit Knitting in its finest and most pure form.)

Now, common sense would tell one that using blurred vision and drunkenness as an explanation for something looking wrong would be, in itself, nonsensical. However, it's sometimes hard to tell what makes sense and what doesn't when you're knee deep in your Xrd cocktail.

Ahem. So, sometimes I'm stupid.

I came to terms with just how precisely I fucked up the shoulder decreases on this sweater as I sat in the backyard on Sunday morning squinting through the bright morning light as the dark-as-hell navy yarn decreased and then increased and then decreased right and then left all over the mothereffin place as though the person who knit this portion was...well...not sober.

*Sigh*

Does anyone else know the soul-crushing hell that is frogging many inches of 220 stitch rounds of sweater - a portion of which includes unsalvageable decreases (and increases - ha!)?

Basically, it's amazing, and something of a miracle, that I didn't pitch a nutty and throw this sweater, random increases and all, into the composter. And then light it on fire. All the while screaming new and improved swears at the top of my lungs despite my lovely church-going neighbors lingering near the fence.

It's a miracle we're all alive (and not incarcerated) to read this post is all I'm saying.

When I collected myself and the remaining shreds of my sanity, I sat with my freshly-frogged-back-to-the-armpits sweater and gave it a stern talking to. To the tune of, "DON'T LET ME APPROACH YOU WITH A COCKTAIL IN MY HAND."

Or else, etc.

Then I set to making sure this sort of shit didn't happen again. And since I recently rekindled my love affair with the label maker, I decided to throw him into the mix, too.

Yes, the label maker is a dude. And I guess the sweater could be a dude since it's FOR a dude. So maybe I had a bizarre Yarn-Label-Crazy Girl three-way happening there, but that's a little too obscure and, frankly, bizarre for even my addled brain to contemplate.

ANYWAY.

I came up with a little strategy for avoiding future shoulder decrease disasters. Even though there are only two decrease stitches (four total - 2 front and 2 back) and all they do is swap at one point to allow you to shape the shoulders, which SHOULD be easy enough to remember if you're a normal person, I need a strategy. Because I'm not normal, I guess. Don't laugh at me.

Rude.

First, I printed instructions for the front and back of each of the four decreases onto individual labels:

To get the space I typed out the first stitch, hit print, DID NOT CUT THE LABEL, typed the second stitch, hit print and THEN cut the label. It took a few tries because I'm a tard.

Then I peeled the backing off, folded them in half ala a lift ticket around that wire wicket thingee and slid them onto the safety pins I already had marking the beginning and end of the sleeve stitches per the pattern's instructions.

I made sure that the pins hung the right direction so that they showed the stitch I was supposed to be doing WHEN I was supposed to be doing it. Like so:

I had to shade this photo with my sombrero it was so bright out there. Yeesh.

Then, when I was finished SSKing the front right sleeve, I turned the tag over. Like so:

I like it when labels tell me what to do.

Then I began the sad task of working through the rest of the wiggly frogged yarn with my new directions under a penalty of death should I manage to drink myself into horseshit knitting again.

So far and BY SOME MIRACLE I've managed to decrease the body stitches, turn the corner and begin decreasing the sleeve stitches without resuming the previous disaster of zigzagging decreases.

It's a thing of beauty, to be honest. Too bad I didn't take a photo of that. Whoops. I think in my head I want to wait until it's really finished before I take any photos of Success. Since those can be used against me in court when I end up with another pile of horseshit and no one to blame but myself.

Craft: along April - So good I made a video.

Dear Donk, 

This project has been a long time in the making. 

The "Properly Organize Your Baking Cabinet So That It's Not Just Full of Zippie Bags" project has been, anyway.

See, I have this one big cabinet dedicated to baking. It's a corner base cabinet with a double decker lazy susan and it holds a LOT of stuff. And when we redid the kitchen and replaced the Surprise! There's a Chimney Behind this Alleged Wall! with this cabinet, I knew exactly what I'd use it for.

And then I promptly went bulk baking supply shopping and filled that beautiful huge cabinet up with ugly inefficient zippie bags of My Precious. Plus some other things that aren't so My Precious, but somehow ended up there anyway. 

Hi Duncan Hines Moist (barf) Deluxe cake mix!
Hello, stupid Yehuda matzo that's 100 years old. 

You know, My Precious' like King Arthur flour (not 2 years old - promise), shredded coconut, chocolate chips, flaxseed, corn starch, oat bran, etc.

You know.

And, well, it was a damn shame. That's what I'd say to myself when I went in there for something. Which was often, given the amount of baking I do. 

Every time I'd be like, Woman! You can do better than this. You are a shameful loser.

I'm a tough crowd.

Anyway, I finally did something about it. And IT involved many bulk containers sourced from points across the globe (Ikea, my garage, the hardware store, places unknown, one of Bubba's old boxes of crap from his first apartment)...

From left to right: Ikea, OSH, garage (jars), Bubba's bachelor pad (old-timey jars), OSH.

...and my label maker.

Oh sweet label maker. I missed you so. 

Even though I had to run out and get you a replacement label cartridge after I'd gotten all into my groove and made 2.5 labels and started cursing your name because sonuvabitch I haven't used you in a year and NOW you decide to run out of labels?! 

But still. Wuv you! 

Anyway, I think you can all appreciate the work that goes into turning a cabinet from this:

To quote my MiL, "What happened in HERE?"

To this:

Oh my yes.

Oh my yes, it was so amazing that I even made a video for once in my Flip Video having life. What is my problem, again? Oh right, I have no idea.

And if you think I haven't opened that cabinet just to spin the shelves and admire the wonder of a zippee-bag free baking cabinet, you have no idea where you are on the blogosphere. Read up. THIS IS MY GIG, MAN.

My life is small.

Thanks for choosing this project, Donk. My baking will go on now.

xo

Finny

Adopt a Crop update: It's been hot. Obviously.

It even LOOKS hotter in this photo. Because it is.

While I haven't done a garden update in about 7 days, these pictures actually only represent about 3 days worth of growth. To be specific: 3 days of 90+ degree weather when the vegs got off their asses and did something. 

The other four days were spent as Vegetables of Leisure, lazing about in cool normal 60 degree temps of April, splashing around in tiny puddles created by the sprinklers that didn't immediately evaporate because it wasn't yet unseasonably steamy hot in their beds. 

I mean, look at this same tomato, pre-HEAT:

Look at that damp earth. I think it was around 60 degrees when I took this photo.

It's not even up to the first ring of the cage yet in this pre-I'm wearing shorts and flip-flops and sweating into the night photo. This tomato was biding its time. Acting all sly with its "oh, I'm still small and not even thinking about putting out blossoms yet. Give me a minute to collect my thoughts here, OK?" when I asked it what it thought it was doing just all not growing and everything. 

And then the mercury hit 90 and what does it do? It grows half a foot in three days and suddenly has EIGHT blossoms as if from nowhere.

Like I didn't know you had those hidden behind your back the whole time, tomato. 

I'm on to you, man.

Not that I'm really mad or anything. I mean, this is what I want in life - vegetables that grow and blossom and make food for me - but I can only handle so much deception. You know?

Meanwhile, the basil was quietly growing into a tree.

You don't fool me, Basil. I know your kind.

I have a plan for keeping the basil in check and that plan is called Pizza Night. That's right, Basil. Your future is in the shape of a bushy shrub, not a tree - so don't get any funny ideas. And no going to flower when I have my back turned. That kind of disobedience will not be tolerated.

Thankfully, I have a few plants who know their place in life. One being the cucumbers. They know their lot in life is to become jars of dill pickle chips and they are working very hard to make that happen. Almost too hard, in fact. These seeds are suspiciously vivacious, germinating and putting on new sets of leaves every other day. 

Why are they working so hard? What do they have to hide? I may have to run a background check on these guys to see if they have any suspicious activities lurking in their permanent records. Smoking in the boy's room, perhaps? Some misdemeanor drug charges?

I'll get to the bottom of this.

Does anyone else smell smoke?

The beans are moving along well, even after I introduced some new roommates to make sure that I was getting my requisite 4-6 plants per pole as stated on the packet I forgot to read thoroughly when I originally planted this bed with 3-5 seeds per pole, whoops.

A few of the newly planted seeds have germinated while the 2 week old seeds are making quick progress toward the lines I restaked to the beds with strong staples. I just knew (read: because the neighbor said so) that those lines staked into the soil with spikes weren't going to sit strong and silent in the soil once these guys started winding their little fingers around them and pulling hard, and I wasn't willing to risk it. Because then I would cry and no one needs to see that.

However, I plan save my "Oh, I'm so impressed" face for when these guys actually grow tall enough to get on the lines. THEN we can talk about Wow beans this and look at the awesome beans that. For now, let's not bolster their egos too much. They get big-headed easily and I can't have my beans all full of themselves and trying to go over my head to management.

Come back to me when you've got a finger on that line, and no sooner.

The corn is still, on the whole, a pretty fucking amazing slacker. Officially, there are three corn seedlings OUT OF 27. 

Lame. 

Although, I reseeded last weekend after my excavation with trowel produced zero moldy seeds (which is what I thought I'd find given the cool rainy weather) and instead produced, well, nothing at all.

Methinks the bastard birds got to the seeds and THAT is why my germination rate was so poor. The Miraculous Three that survived to become seedlings were the ones lucky enough to be planted in such a way that when I ran the irrigation lines, their homes fell underneath and, as such, they were shielded from the pecking birds. While normally having a freeway running above your house is not ideal, in this case it was a strategic advantage. 

Mental note: If there ever comes a time when I'm fearing for my life due to a drastic rise in the pterodactyl population, I'll be sure to approve the city's plan to extend I-280 over my backyard.

Traffic noise is a bitch, but at least I'm only five minutes from Trader Joe's.

To shield these new seeds, I put the Supah Technical frost cages over the beds to keep the birds out. No more on-the-clock snacking, you jerks.

Anyway.

The lettuce is busy playing Teacher's Pet. It's perfect and does exactly what it promises and then sometimes surprises me by randomly sprouting up under a dirt clump (not pictured) and pushing it out of the way with its mighty lime green leaves. 

Unfortunately, lettuce is a little slutty and, after a few beers, tends to throw its skirt up and show you its frilly underpants, which we have decided is something we're willing to look past given the sheer magnitude of salad greens it will produce.

Promiscuous lettuce is welcome in our house any day.

Of course, I'm banking on the beans actually getting on the lines and growing to the top of the tepee so that there will be some shade for this lettuce so that it doesn't get all bolt-tasic on us and turn into a bitter tree of failure, but it's too early to be that pessimistic. Even when the beans are teasing me by setting new leaves while leaning away from the lines. 

Such a tease.

And while this is an update on crops and not on $.99 cent landscaping, let's briefly glace at what's going on in the pee hole if for no other reason than the fact that it's happening without any interference (ie. work) from moi:

Apparently it's poppy season in the pee hole because there are poppies of all varieties coming up with the borage, lupine and myriad daisy-like things. Standard poppies, California poppies, Iceland poppies, big poppies, small poppies - all growing and thriving and all without my help. It feels good to not be needed.

It also feels good to know that if WHOOPSY neighbor kid Max appreciates any of these flowers by running his tricycle through them, they'll either spring back or reseed themselves at no cost to me. 

Yay for DIY landscaping where the Yourself is aimed at the plants rather than me. That's right, plants, YOU do it YOURself and leave me out of it.

Earth: It's what's for dinner.

These beets have been in my fridge for so long they left a dent in the bottom of the drawer. Not really.

Do you like my cheesy title? Yeah, I'm not so sure of it myself, but I'm in a bizarre mood brought on by the pink (raspberry to be barfingly specific) dress I'm wearing and the fact that it's a HOT MUTHA in NorCal again today, after three 90+ degree days.

I haven't been sleeping much due to the heat, y'all, and so I go crazy and wear pink. And then I make Earth for dinner.

Well, I make beets for dinner. And some people say they taste like dirt. And, to me, dirt = Earth, so there you go.

It's a tenuous link, but it's what I can manage for Earth Day since I'm not going to be preaching recycling or organic gardening or hugging trees or any of that other hippie crap you might hear around here. No one needs that in their lives.  The preaching part anyway. 

No, today we're talking beets. Because recently I had a little whiny moment about What the F do I do with all these beets and then promptly set to figuring it out like a grown-up. 

I cooked them. 

All of them. 

All 20 lbs of them. 

Just so that the hard part of dealing with beets was out of the way. Which is what I realized after my whiny bitch moment - my big problem wasn't WHAT to do with all my beets it was HOW to make that happen in a way that didn't have me turning on my fucking oven every night when it's already in the nineties around here. 

I would have been eating beets all the live long day if only I didn't have to have them sitting in my oven for an hour just heating up my house like crazy before I could have the simple beet salad that is all I wanted in the whole wide world. 

OH. OH! This is a logistics problem, not a beet problem. I can totally handle logistics! Well, if I remove my head from my ass, I can. Tee dah! Beet Epiphany!

After taking a breather from my Major Beet Epiphany, and dispatching all the beets via oven, I made a couple different salads from them that were quite pleasing and so, I will share them with you. 

So that you, too, can eat the Earth for dinner if you so choose. And I also recommend that if you have a stash of beets (and if you're part of a CSA, you probably do), just do yourself the favor of cooking them all at once so that you can keep them sliced and chilled in your fridge to have with dinner until your whole house is stained with purple fingerprints. And don't go running off to the Internets claiming you don't know what to do with all your beets because, DUH, of course you do. Dummy.

For the record, Mr. I Don't Like Beets Bubba ate his salad right down to hitting his fork on the bottom of the bowl, beets and all, and has claimed himself a beet-liker now. 

Well, how do you like that? The craziness. It never ends around here. First chard, then brussels sprouts and now beets?! It's almost too much for me to handle. 

Almost, I said. (See above: "I can totally handle logistics.")

Anyway, this first salad won't come as much of a surprise to y'all if you've ever had a beet salad since I'm pretty sure it's your run-of-the-mill beet salad recipe, but here goes:

Gold + Red beets = Fanciness. Make a note.

Finny's Your Average Beet Salad

Recipe by moi. Yippee.

Ingredients

A buttload of uncooked beets OR 3 per person

Arugula (1 cup per person)

2 T toasted pine nuts (per person)

2 T goat cheese (per person)

Extra virgins

Balsamic vinegar

Salt

Pepper 

To make

Preheat your oven to 425.

The world's largest baked potatoes? No.

Top your beets (if the greens are small and young and good shape (meow), set them aside and toss them in your salad. If not, toss them a little farther into the compost pile.), slice off the top and tail and wrap them in foil. About six per packet works just fine. Roast for 50-60 minutes, or until a fork slides easily to the center of the biggest beet.

Do yourself a favor and let these cool otherwise I won't be responsible for your hand welts.

Open your packets and let those beets cool for a minute or two before you hold each one with a paper towel and slide their skins off. They come off real easy like and make a fresh red mess on your paper towel, which is kinda cool if you're me. I like these kinds of things. Like dinner tie-dye. 

Ok, it might just be me.

Now that you've denuded your beets, slice them into wedges and toss them with the extra virgins (a few Ts), balsamic (a couple Ts) and salt and fresh ground pepper to taste. 

I always think the gold beets taste better, like they're red M&Ms or something, but I'm pretty sure they're about the same.

In your individual salad bowls, lay down a nice green bed of arugula (or whatever kind of salad green you like. Even though arugula is awesome for offsetting the sweetness of the beets. But I understand some people don't like arugula because they are communists.), a good helping of these tasty beets, a healthy crumble of goat cheese, some pine nuts and another grind of pepper for show.

Picture this salad with sliced kumquats on it and you will then know what my Heaven looks like.

Enjoy it up.

Variations:

-Add sliced kumquats (FAVORITE ALERT)

-Swap pine nuts for walnuts and goat cheese for blue cheese

-Swap arugula for sunflower sprouts

-Add peeled orange wedges

-Swap balsamic vinegar for red wine vinegar

-Put a wedge of chocolate cake on top (KIDDING)(Only sort of)

So, now I only have a handful of cooked beet quarters left and I've decided that I am going to use them to make that cake I wanted with this recipe from Mango Power Girl. 

Especially nice is the fact that the What the F do I do with all these beets question has been answered. 

Answer: cook them.

You know, just like I told you NOT to tell me because sometimes I can be contradictory and a fresh pain in the ass. Either way, problem solved. And there will be cake!

Happy Eat the Earth Day.

Adopt a Crop update: They know it's about to be hot

Before hot weather, tomato plants can be smaller than basil.

I believe that the slow/nonexistent progress with the corn and tomatoes is due to the fact that they're wise to the coming weather.

Vegetables have the weather gadget on their iGoogle pages, too, don't they?

In case you are not as gadget-happy as my vegetables, I am happy to tell you that Nature thinks it's going to be almost 90 degrees here on Monday.

Yes, you heard me right: NINE OH degrees. Wow. Get me my shorts.

And I am also happy to tell you that this is probably why the corn has been so slow to start from seed (3/27 seeds germinated is not the best ever) and why 3 of 4 tomato plants have shown zero change since I put them in the ground a few weeks ago. 

This minuscule growth makes me look like a rockstar.

One of the tomato plants is visibly doing some growing and putting out new leaves, but he's clearly some sort of show off and I have it under good authority that the other tomato plants think he's a jerk, so do with that what you may.

Dude in the front is the obvious jerk-off. He's way bigger than the others and so I love him more.

The lettuce, however, seems to be enjoying this cool April and has, thus, been growing all proper like - putting out new leaves happily once I thinned the encroaching herd of overseediness resulting from my haphazard planting tactic known as, "just throw the whole fucking packet of seeds in there because who can be bothered to individually plant tiny ass lettuce seeds anyway?" 

I like my new, bigger office. Thank you.

I do like growing lettuce from seed, I should tell you, because it is so utterly satisfying in its ease and quickness. Run your finger through the soil to create a little gutter, pour some seeds in there (or the whole packet, whatever) cover it up, let Nature do some watering and BAM a few days later you have some sprouts. Then you do some thinning - leaving just the biggest and baddest seedlings - and BAM a few days later the remaining big and bad lettuces have grown new leaves as a sign of appreciation for the extra room to move.

Like a thank you note from the lettuce, is how I see it. Because I'm Crazy with a capital NUTJOB.

Now I have to go back and re-thin since the new open space just left more room for the stifled seeds to sprout. Yippee.

The basil is doing not much, probably because it hangs out with the tomatoes and they're on strike until the hot weather comes. The basil is such a follower.

The beans seem happy to do their growing regardless of the weather and are, frankly, impressing me with their sheer will to get on the lines I've not yet properly staked down. I feel like their motivation to grow comes from their desire to prove my neighbor right about how the stakes I used to fix their lines into the soil will pull out the second the beans get on there if I don't stake them down more permanently.

We're preparing our rebellion.

Yes, the beans are obstinate traitors. That is what I'm saying. 

So, this weekend, after I try to kill myself by running 10 miles, I am going to get out my hammer and nails and properly secure these lines to the bed frames so that I don't end up with unstaked beans because that would ruin the whole Bubba-built-me-something-for-the-garden thing if it doesn't work out just perfectly like I said it would so that he would build it for me.

So you know, "working out just perfectly" means that the beans are to climb to the tippy top of the bean tepee meanwhile providing shade for the bolt-happy lettuce underneath. It's a master plan of mine but won't come to fruition if the lines of the tepee don't hold down the friggen beans, now will it?

Those lines look tight now, but wait until the beans go ker-climbing their way up. Bad, stretchy news.

No. No, it will not. So, to get a hammer I go. And then I hope to not do this. Poor Kris. That is *so* something I would do. Except I would probably milk it for longer because I'm a whiny bitch like that. You know I wouldn't be docking lamb's tails or hosting a wedding for 150 people in my backyard with a busted thumb. Oh, hell no.

Anyway, back to the vegetables. 

Specifically, the Adopted Crop o' the Year: Lemon Cucumbers. Even more specifically - WTF? All the seeds are germinating even though it's been so cool! Even more specifically than that - Even the one I have growing inside almost by itself is putting out new leaves! 

Save me from this vile woman!

I guess the lemon cucumbers were meant to be, y'all - good choice. I'm looking forward to seeing how this crop comes out. Even though I have not yet figured out how to use the slicing attachment for my food processor. Anyone know how to use this? I scared.

Meanwhile, I should probably thin these two mounds of 100% germination madness, but I can hardly bear to do so after last year's near total crop failure of seeds. This boon has me wanting to save each one for...for...well, for I don't know what, but if you live near me and want one of these seedlings, let me know and I'll try to save it for you. They seem to have a very strong will to live and morph into pickle chips later in the summer. 

Don't you think I'd be hot as a pickle chip? Yeah, me too.

That's just what they told me though - I'm not making any guarantees or anything, FYI.

In the veg garden's outlying areas, which I like to call "the sites to be landscaped in the future but for now I'm mostly ignoring", the strawberries are putting on fruit, 

(mental note: put out beer traps for bastard slugs), 

we're imagining that the cherries are starting to turn reddish, 

They look sorta reddish-ish, right? Our wishful thinking powers are very strong.

the lemons are not dropping their tiny fruits (miracle), 

By now, they'd normally be dropping these all over the patio and I'd be crying.

and the apple tree has a new hairdo.

Don't diss the fro.

This is all good and supports my assertion that plants that produce food must not always be restricted to growing in specially designated areas. 

Landscape with food, that's what I say.  And get out the shorts in preparation for the heat. Also sunscreen. And the sombrero. And the ice cream maker. 

I have a lot of work to do.