Artichokes for dinner: a Bean favorite. Mine too. We eat all the way to the heart, dipping each leaf in lemon butter; then wonder at the purple and pale green thistle center.
It’s suddenly warm here. Days perfect for drinking fizzy water and limes. Days for getting first sunburns, working in the garden. A week of vacation: to catch up on writing and sleep and time with my boys.
Bean and I spend every second outdoors in the afternoons, ambling through our meadows, taking stock of everything that is new and green and budding. He found these old baskets from last autumn’s crysanthemums on the brush pile we’re preparing to burn. Natraully, they offered endless entertainment.
Made the first batch of sun tea this week. The temperature has hit 80, and it’s almost soporific. Just two weeks ago I was wearing down and socks, now I’m barefoot, my toes badly in need of a pedicure.
Writing, upstairs, alone in the house, I heard a thud. Unmistakable, reminding me of a childhood in the Rocky Mountains in a big-windowed cabin and my dad, holding stunned birds in his quiet palms. They always flew away, and compelled, I went downstairs and out the screen door looking. It was there, below the frong windows, wings spread wide, eyes closed. But I scooped it up gently, and held it. (My dad always said holding the birds helped them with the shock.) And eventually, he started to blink, and move about, then perched for a while on my thumb before flying off. A small blessing.
Wildflowers suddenly everywhere, and insects. I’m so damn grateful to be through with winter.
We hung Bean’s first tree swing yesterday. So much nostalgia from childhood: my feet scraping the blue bowl of sky.
I found two today, the first of the year. I think of them as my writing talismans. Last year they brough so much: my writing group, Pam, a piece to be published this summer in the Sun. I’ve pressed them in my new Molskine.
He’s just so beautiful. Yesterday in the garden he was stomping about. “I’m going to get the moon,” he said, and then wandered off, gesturing that he’d gotten it and was holding it and bringing it back. “I brought you the moon, Mommy,” he said, beaming.
beautiful pictures, beautiful words. i am “so damn grateful”, too, to be making my way through winter.
in light,
gem
Oh, the picture of the bird is incredible! And four-leaf clovers? I’ve never actually seen one before. I hope they usher in a burstingly wonderful year for you.
artichokes — my son’s favorite too (the first time i ate them before my italian mother-in-law taught me how, i found them rather tough…hmmm, yeah eating each leaf is a bit rough on the tummy)…the photo of bean in the basket is hilarious, his words beautiful, and the photos totally stunning — how do you get them so lovely and clear? — it sounds like your day was one spent in divine nature, just what a bruised soul needs for restoration…so pleased you had the wonderful gift of that day…it reminds me of how much my soul needs a day like that…
I love artichokes! I’m so glad my Mom taught me how to make them …
Congratulations on your acceptance in the Sun! I’ve just recently started reading that publication and am enjoying it immensely.
Your photographs are lovely, I am especially drawn to the swing and the woodpecker. I am so glad you could save him! Thanks for sharing, Roxanne
Dudes, I so don’t get the artichoke thing? I cooked one last night – blah – how do you cook them so they taste & look good?
your son? beautiful indeed.
i asked for a manifestation of a four-leaf-clover, and look! here it is
loved this post of life in pictures … it’s the sweet little things that add up and make a life of love.
Those eye lashes!!!
Happy to hear the old Christina come out with the sun!
What camera and lens do you use?
Carrie: rinse the artichoke, then cut the stem flat with the artichoke & steam it for about 20 minutes. You know it’s done when the leaves pull off easily. Melt some butter with lemon (or lemon & garlic) and then dip the leaves into the butter & eat. The important thing: only eat the very bottom of the leaf…more like scrape off the soft part with your teeth. You don’t actaully eat ANY leaf, just the soft part. As you get towards the center or heart–you can cut parts off and eat them too, but watch out for the thistle. Artichokes, if cooked right taste delicate and sweet.
I want to know if your next attempt turns out better than your last. We can’t have any artichoke haters among us!
i loved this post…loved it…
and man…check out those eye lashes…wish i had them…
Thanks Christina, wonderful instructions, I will give it another shot! Maybe in a week or so though…
Oh god, I miss you already!!
Congratulations on the Sun piece (I like how you slipped that in all casual-like), that’s wonderful! I’m a subscriber so I look forward to reading your words on paper and not just on-line. I went to one of the Sun’s Into the Fire writing weekends last year, it was really something and moved me a step towards courage in my own writing.
Bean in the basket is a hoot!