Sunday Night Thoughts

I have the thought that, when people start a blog in this day and age, they have some thematic concept. An idea of time involved per week (if not per day) and a dedication to keeping this virtual thing alive.

I know. I give folks FAR too much credit. Including myself. Bear with me here.

Keeping a blog going -- even with the most lacksidaisical idea of theme -- is hard work. It nips at your back mind constantly. Because you (or I, as it were) feel like it should be a priority, or at least a commitment. To what, I don't know. But it's an exercise in discipline, right?

Clearly, Discipline and I have an ongoing standoff. Particularly when my day-to-day work has involved much writing as of late.

I feel I should have substance. Something that is useful, amusing, or at least enjoyable to my dozen or so readers. It's not enough to simply say: "Hey! I had a great Sunday! I started by going to a soon-to-be-favorite dive bar for a fabulous $3.50 breakfast. Then I played dress-up-doll with my sample size husband on his annual shopping trip. We followed that by picking up a dress or two for me, then had FAR too much fun refreshing ourselves at The Phoenician. We came home and made a fabulous grilled steak and veg salad for dinner while listening to old Casey Kasem Top 40 countdowns on our patio. Awesome!"

But that's about it. Life is really fun, even in its small moments. Something I have to remind myself constantly when some small niggling THING of no long-term consequence is bugging me at the back of my brain.

I asked this on my Twitter feed, but I ask you too: What do you do when your brain won't stop whirring? And for those of you with blogs, do you feel pressure to update on a regular basis, even if you feel your life is fun but...well, not necesssarily extraordinary? Or is it the perspective and -- dare I say it -- spin that make the regular bits shine?

Quickie: A Sweet Farewell

The Last Hurrah of the Spring Sweet Peas

Photo courtesy of Andrew Knowles

1-2-3 Project: Lavender Oil

I love creative projects, but I'm also not very good with choosing one hobby and sticking to it. I also have very little patience for dramatic learning curves (one of two major reasons why I've never quite understood knitting, crochet or how to play musical instruments), nor the space for a dedicated craft room.

Sound familiar? Is impatience a barrier to your creativity? Should it be? I say: "HELL, no!" I've learned to work around this temperament with "1-2-3 Projects," inspired little adventures that generally take few materials and less than an hour of hands-on work time, for the clever gal (or guy -- ain't no judgments here) on the go.

Our garden is a mishmash of planning and letting nature take its course. When we viewed what would become our house last October, the bricked-in garden beds were one of our first attractions. The layout is such that some beds receive direct sun, some mostly shade. That plus built-in drip irrigation sealed the deal -- here we would plan the herb, flower and vegetable garden of our apartment-bound Brooklyn dreams, desert conditions be damned!

But Arizona gardening will turn your head, your instincts, and -- if you're not careful -- your pocketbook inside out. In Phoenix, there are two short growing seasons each year. Very little of it (except citrus season, which falls between the growing seasons -- stay with me here) makes ANY logical sense to those from temperate zones. Planting calendars and charts are very popular in this town -- and you'll still scratch your head from time to time when you're doing things like...oh...planting tomatoes in January.

Being the impatient folks we are, we paid a gardener to help us clear our old beds, trim some plants, and get a few things going in our herb garden. In November. Which we found out is generally not the time to do such things as frost, believe it or not, is still very much a concern during desert winters.

This past winter turned particularly chilly, with two very late and extended frosts that led to many locals complaining about the bitter temperatures (boo hoo -- we got down to the upper 30s/lower 40s at night...I know, I know) and killed many hibiscus, bougainvillea, and other beautiful flowering plants around town. We ended up hacking back six gorgeous hibiscus bushes and all of the bougainvillea, most of which have rebounded in astonishing ways. Mere stumps only three months ago (and I truly gave them up for totally dead), the hibiscus around our house are perfect examples of Mother Nature gettin' down and kickin' some serious booty.

Despite tucking in the garden at night with blankies, sheets and lullabies, we lost quite a few plants. But we also discovered what would rebound and what you couldn't kill with a nuclear strike. It turns out Mediterranean plants and herbs (except basils) are very hardy -- and lucky for us, perfectly suited to the desert if you happen to have drip irrigation.

This spring -- and by "spring" we mean "February through April" out here -- four impressive, frost-resistant Spanish lavender bushes joined the blossoming orange trees and filled our backyard with color, scent and bees as other herbs started their season. Now at the end of May, most of the lavender heads have gone a greenish-gray, still full of scent but clearly at the end of their cycle and in desperate need of a trim to prevent them from crowding out the leafy herbs and tomatoes that are now coming into peak season.

Therefore, today's 1-2-3 Project: Lavender Oil! This one's a two-parter -- about 15 minutes in the first part and 15 minutes for the second part, about a week later.

You will need:

• About a quart of plain, good-for-your-skin oil. I grabbed a big bottle of sweet almond oil at the health food store and combined it with two smaller bottles of plain jojoba and Vitamin E oils I had sitting in the back of my medicine cabinet. Use up and combine what you have, so long as it isn't rancid. By the way, mineral ("baby") oil or anything else petroleum-based is not your best bet here.
• A clean, quart-sized mason jar, with tight fitting lid. By the way, I think mason jars are it. You can get a dozen of them for practically nothing at the grocery store and use them for so many things, including bargain drinking glasses. People will think you're totally hip and down-home when you're really just cheap and desperate for something to hold a large amount of booze for your pals. How about that!
• Two huge handfuls of fresh-cut lavender. Don't have lavender? What do you have in your garden that smells delicious? Mint? Rosemary? Sweet peas? Take a second and follow your instinct. Don't have a garden? How about using up those $4-per-package herbs that are wilting in your fridge and the cut flowers on your table? Recycling is fun.
• A high-speed blender or food processor. Or a really sharp knife and cutting surface will do.
• A chopstick or long-handled spoon, for stirring.
• A wire-mesh strainer, cheesecloth, a bowl, and a funnel, for final bottling.

1. Rinse your lavender (or herbs -- it's your show, tonight!) and gently pat dry so you don't crush the leaves and waste all the natural oils.
2. Throw the lavender into the blender or food processor with about 2/3 of the oil you plan to use. Whirr away until it's a fairly fragrant if ugly slurry. Alternatively, chop up your lavender into small bits, throw it in the jar with the oil, and proceed (FYI, you may need to let your oil sit longer than a week if you use this method).
3. Pour into your clean mason jar and add the remaining oil, making sure to leave about 1/4 inch of air at the top. Carefully stir to combine and tightly screw on the lid.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

1. Let sit in a cool, dark place for about a week -- or until the oil is the strength you like. Give it a little shake every day or so. Not strong enough? Let it sit (or add more lavender). Too strong? Hang on.*
2. Line your strainer with two layers of cheesecloth and place it over a bowl. Carefully pour the lavender oil slurry into the strainer and gently press it down to separate the oil from the lavender bits. You can also gather up the cheesecloth and wring it to get even more oil out. N.B.: you may want to do this in two batches.
3. Funnel the oil back into the rinsed out and dried mason jar, clean decorative bottles, or even the original bottles that the base oils came in (you saved those, right?) -- you can easily wash off the original stickers and slap on groovy new labels in their place. The perfect gift! Store in a cool, dark place to keep the oil fresh.

* = If the oil is too strong, dilute it with more of your base oil -- but go slow and add a bit (say a 1/4 cup) at a time, then let it sit for a day or two before deciding if it needs more dilution.

How can you use your lavender oil? All of the traditional bath and moisturizing uses, of course, but try these ideas:

• Place a few drops on a Kleenex or small cloth and tuck it into your bag or a drawer.
• Decant a tablespoon or so into a small bottle and take it with you on your next trip for a little pre-arrival pick-me-up.
• Fill a spray bottle about 1/8 full with the oil and the rest with distilled water, shake, and you have a refreshing linen and/or facial mist (keep it in the fridge during the summer -- chilly divinity!). You can also add a drop or two of your favorite essential oils to create custom blends.

How else would you use homemade lavender oil? I'd love to hear your ideas, too.

The Nerdtastic Thrill of Meal Planning

Those who know me -- and for those who plan to stick around, it will soon become painfully obvious -- accept that beneath my street smarts and Midwestern charm lie a huge nerd who loves nothing more than to sort, scheme and plan. It explains my seemingly opposite career paths to date: communications and librarian.

As evidence: This past Sunday, I happily spent four entire hours planning two weeks of dinners for the Brit and me, making a shopping list, and finding what deals I could to bring the total cost to a bearable level. Once complete, I triumphantly showed The Plan to the Brit and he...well, he humored me and at least said it all sounded "tasty enough" before returning to his latest fix-it project.

This Thursday afternoon, I've excitedly set aside time to re-sort the freezer and refrigerator. Not so much clean them (I don't clean. Much.), but just put like with like; toss anything that's starting to evolve independently; and make more lists! of what we have in stock so we can use it up.

This ongoing project thrills me no end. Perhaps because the last few weeks of my life have been chaotic due to outside obligations, this return to order is the aloe vera to my burnt adrenal gland. It's a place where I can say things truly are in their place -- where there is a comforting predictability and a moment of zen in the kitchen most every night to simply create. If only for the two of us.

(Did I mention I don't clean? That's the Brit's job and I'm forever grateful that he washes up so I can bask in the glow of that day's project without worrying about pesky real-life details like scrubbing.)

Tonight, blessedly without the usual dash-about, make-a-freakin'-decision, "Crap! We're out of...let's see...chicken?!", we dined on crunchy herbed parmesan chicken with sauteed greens and two dipping sauces. A glass of rosé. Mini brownie sundaes, too. On our patio, underneath oversized fairy lights, during a surprisingly cool late spring Arizona evening. And life was everything it should be: content.