new curtains.

New curtains for the studio, made of vintage sheets. In the late afternoon light, my studio looks like the inside of a rose.

belated thankfulness.

Though my thoughts are swirling and sleepless, I can still manage a little belated thankfulness:

My husband, who sits up in bed with me watching television, looks at his ancient, graying socks and says, "What the hell am I wearing?!"

My son, that incredibly intelligent being, who knows more than I can guess, and needs my help only sparingly. Oh, and when he clarifies that "I didn't say 'shit' Momma, I said 'sit'." Good to know.

This house we live in, and the beautiful rooms we've created out of nothing but a little moxy and some recycling. I admittedly get a little bummed at the disheveled state of things, that our televisions aren't flat-screen's, that we can't afford Iphones and Ipads, etc., because we really are a bit on the poor side. But then I feel a sort of sweet relief when I look around and realize that or house looks like a home, not a Radio Shack, and that makes me happy.

Good food, always. God consistently gives us enough to eat. We've never gone hungry.

My Pinterest boards and the never-ending rotation of inspiration I find there.

I have a studio. It's a tiny room, and I keep it sparse so that I can spread out fabric and canvas on the floor. It has two windows that let in a huge amount of light. It's cold, placed right over the garage, but it's mine, just mine.

My family, a host of wonky characters, who always keep me laughing no matter how dismal conditions might seem. Our gatherings see me heading home with an aching belly, and not because of the food.

And as always, I'm thankful for the rows and rows of 99cent books at the thrift store, letting me zone out and hunt for treasure, all in one place.

bones.

I hope to be painting again soon.

makings.

Top to bottom: a button cuff bracelet, inspired by something I saw on Pinterest. Repurposing an old binder of Hayden's, and making it my own with some painted feathers. Last is a "Love" watercolor I started over a month ago and finally finished last week.

Nov. 9

The past few weeks
are an odd blur
a hurricane
an election
and a lot of personal growth

Also
the golden light of fall
that evening wash of it
is disappearing
and I find myself adding
layers of hats and scarves and socks

I suppose steeling myself for
what I'm sure will be
a long winter

carrot, ginger, and coconut soup.

Or, more accurately, carrot-ginger-coconut-pumpkin soup, but I feel like that's an awfully long name for such a simple recipe.

While this soup was definitely inspired by similar ones floating around on Pinterest, the end result is my own, tweaking it and adjusting the taste and adding dashes of this and that until I felt it was right. Feel free to adjust it to your own tastes--this is incredibly versatile, and you could make it sweeter or more savory, depending on what you add in. It's like (vegetarian) Thanksgiving in a bowl!

What You Need:

- one 13.5 oz can lite coconut milk
- roughly 1 cup pureed, canned pumpkin
- 1 tsp freshly grated ginger root
- 1/2 red onion, chopped
- 6 whole medium-sized carrots, peeled and chopped
- sprigs of fresh rosemary
- olive oil, cayenne pepper, cinnamon, sea salt, black pepper, and honey

What You Do:

Start by drizzling a non-stick pan with olive oil. Heat the pan on medium/high, then add the onion. Let the onion sweat it out for a few minutes, then add the carrots. Keep a little cup of water on hand, and add just a tbsp. at a time when the pan gets too dry. Cover and let the onions and carrots sizzle away, stirring every few minutes.

Meanwhile, in a small saucepan, pour in your can of coconut milk. Add a dash of cinnamon and a very tiny dash of cayenne pepper. Heat the milk on very low heat--you don't want it to bubble at all. Check your carrots. When you can pierce one with a fork, pour this mixture into the coconut milk. Add the pumpkin and ginger. Finely chop a little rosemary and throw that in as well. Remove the pot from heat and pour into a blender. Blend the soup, slowly at first. --->Make sure you vent the lid just a bit to let the heat out.<--- You may need to add just a little water to make it thinner. Once you have a smooth mixture with no chunks, pour it back into your saucepan. Heat again on low, and add a drizzle of honey, and salt and pepper. You may have to add what seems like quite a bit of salt, but just keep adding a pinch and tasting, until the savory quality of these vegetable comes out. Just go slowly--if you over-salt, you can't really undo it.

When satisfied with the taste of the soup, turn off the heat and cover it. I let it sit around for about 45 minutes or so while I baked a loaf of bread and made my husband a pizza. I, of course, don't really expect you to do those things. I would however recommend letting it sit for at least a half hour, so the flavors can deepen. Also, as is the case with most things, this soup really does taste better when closer to room temperature.

To serve, drizzle a bit of plain yogurt on top, then sprinkle with a bit of salt and add a sprig of rosemary. There you go! (By the way, I'd say you could serve at least four people this, especially if paired with some crusty bread, good, hard cheddar cheese, and some salty, oily olives, but that's up to you.)

Nov. 1

Savoring the humble things
A pumpkin-chocolate chip loaf made for my brother's birthday
Long, chilly runs in the rain (made better by new sneakers)
and wonderful, handmade gifts from a dear friend

I'd be grateful for all this
even without the recent events on the east coast
But it's made all the more acute
with so much darkness nearby