What a good day. I got rolling this morning and worked on bread. I made a nice loaf of multi-grain, but I also ground a gallon jar full of whole wheat flour. I used mason jars to pre-measure the dry ingredients for a dozen future pizza crusts, not lined up under the bread machine awaiting a kid with a chore-chart tag that says, “pizza night”.
Then I filled the tupperware boxes I have had for years, with the recipes for my favorite whole grain bread machine recipes markered on the tops. The wet ingredients are written as well, so the kid who makes a bread machine loaf can do it with no problem.
When it looked like I had more cherries than we could use, I put out the word on my furgal-homeschoolers yahoo group that I was looking for “sharecroppers” — folks who would like to come and pick berries and give me a token share. I have had a lot of company! Two stoppepd by last night to taste, and three came this morning to pick. They took Connor with them afterward to go pick black raspberries at another friend’s farm. Tyler and Molly and I went to the nearby fruit market, and to a greenhouse that is closing for the summer and selling “as many plants as you can fit between the stripes of tape on the counter” for ten bucks.
I am plotting against the groundhog in my yard who –amazingly, considering his size — was seen perched on the TOP RAIL of a four foot chicken wire fence. What now? Razor wire?
I made my first batch of tabbouli, with bulgur wheat, lots of fresh parsley and mint form my garden, and chives since I didn’t have scallions.
More homeschoolers came this evening to pick cherries — a quaker friend and her son, and two other little boys whose mommy was teaching yoga at the botanical gardens. It’s funny — I woke up this morning and tried to stretch in a productive way, sighing that I remember NOTHING of the yoga sun salutation I used to do. My excuse for not doing oga has been that when I got on the ground, my little kids would climb on me… but they’re grown now. So I need to start again, for the sake of my back, my shoulders, my potter joints.
So when the yoga teacher came to get her boys, we talked kefir and yogurt, kombucha and kraut. She is opening a new yoga studio and hinted that she will have space for artwork. Funny how things line up just the way they should! And a yoga class I can bike to!
I pitted more cherries while Molly made hot dogs for supper. Jeff taught his class at Lourdes College tonight, and came home to flip through library books looking for good hiking trails for the boy scouts.
Tomorrow is a local farmer’s market. I am thinking about pickling beets.