It's All About the Little Things

I've been struggling for a few days, trying to decide what to write about for this week's blog. It's not that I haven't been busy, or that I've put my projects and pursuit of fabulousness on the back burner - that's not it at all! In fact, I've rarely been busier! I think it's that I have so many things going on, a lot of which require a great deal of energy, that I am having difficulty putting it all into words.

And then there are some things that I'm still struggling to define my feelings about.

So in the meantime, I'm going to leave you with a funny anecdote from Labor Day weekend.

Several weeks ago, I decided that I was going to start my holiday weekend a little early, and drive out on Friday to visit my parents, who live a little over an hour away. I knew that Mom would be at work for part of the time, but Dad is retired, and this girl never passes up a chance to hang out with her Daddy! I had some vaguely nebulous ideas about what we'd do, centering around creating furniture for Georgia (so that she'd stop climbing my armchairs), but mostly was just looking for an excuse to spend time with the ones I love.

Sometime after lunch and a jaunt in Dad's garden to pick tomatoes and "albino" cucumbers, we settled onto the porch swing that has hung on the deck since I was a teenager. Surrounded by sunshine, blooming flowers in every color, and sleeping cats, it seemed like a little slice of heaven as we rocked and chatted.

Pearl cucumbers from Dad's garden. They kind of looked
like giant weevils, but were actually quite delicious!

Then there was a creak. And then a groan. And then we were tipped backward to face the sky.

Then the back of the porch swing gave way, and I saw my dad's legs fly up over his head!

I thought I was hanging on, but once Dad's counterweight was gone, the swing decided to spit me out as well. I somehow flipped so that my head was under the swing and my feet were on the deck railing.

Once we could both catch our breath and determined that there were no major injuries that required First Aid or a doctor, we started laughing and couldn't stop. Through gasps of merriment, I kept insisting that it wasn't funny, but Dad was adamant that it was as he shook with laughter. Even recounting it to Mom hours later, we couldn't control ourselves and had tears streaming down our faces in the retelling.

I'm pretty sure she thought we'd knocked a few screws loose.

All content and images are ©The Casual Diva, except where otherwise noted. Content may not be republished without prior consent of the author.

Pest control

I'm not really a "summertime girl", to quote that hilariously bad LFO song from my college years. Summer is usually too hot, and here on the East Coast, entirely too humid for comfort's sake. None of that has been true this summer - I'll take an entire season of 70-degree temperatures and breeze every year, thank you very much!

The one thing I do love, more than anything else, about summer, is the flowers. Starting in the spring, but then extending all summer long, nature erupts into chaotic color and shapes and scents that just make me feel alive! Yes, I know that sounds cheesy and melodramatic, but hey, did you notice the name of the blog?

Every July, I look forward to my favorite flowers, my lilies, blooming. Usually, the blossoms open into happy pink explosions right around the Fourth of July, and I can look forward to being greeted every morning and evening with their happy faces and cheerful perfume. This year, because the weather has been unseasonably cool, my lilies didn't bloom until mid-July, so they were waiting to great me in full profusion when my brother and I returned from our road trip to the Midwest a few weeks ago. I could tell as I got out of the car that they had bloomed, even though it was dark, because there is no mistaking the smell of a freshly emerged lily.

Sadly, lily blossoms never last more than a few short weeks, no matter the temperatures, and with the summer thunderstorms and gusting winds we've been having, both my and my neighbor's yards are strewn with spent petals and orange pollen. But the leafy stems (which according to the nursery company I bought them from four years ago should only reach 12-18 inches high, but this year reached as much as 45 inches in height) stay happily green into the fall, and provide a nice barrier between my property and my adjoining neighbor's yard.

This weekend, I noticed some strange bugs on the remaining seed pods and style of the lilies that had finished and dropped their petals. and the more I looked, the more I realized that it wasn't just a few bugs (which wouldn't worry me), but quite literally thousands of these insects on each of the plants.

The underside of the leaves were even more coated with insects.

So what did I do? I emailed the pictures to my in-house plant expert, my dad. I'm fortunate enough to have parents who are very knowledgeable on a variety of subjects, and a father and a brother who are actually reasonably handy. Any plant questions automatically get referred to my dad, who not only taught me every single thing I ever learned about gardening, but also just retired from a successful career as an agronomist (an agricultural scientist).

As I knew he would, he immediately identified the crawly pests, which kind of resemble winged lice, as aphids - that persistent nuisance to gardeners everywhere (for some reason, I had always though that aphids were green, not tan, but perhaps the type I found is different than the kind that Dad always battles with over his roses). Aphids are a sucking insect, rather than a chewing insect, so they don't leave bitten holes all over the plants like a lot of pests, but instead suck on the waxy surface of the plant, which can cause the plant to turn brown prematurely. They also secrete a nectar that attracts ants, and since I already have a major problem with ants (sometimes I think my neighborhood was built on a giant ant hill), I decided to wage immediate war!

Now, I don't have a special license to mix my own chemicals, and off-the-shelf sprays are often expensive. But fortunately, the solution to the aphid problem is inexpensive and doesn't require an extra trip to the store. Using any clean spray bottle, just mix equal parts dish soap and water, and then spray the heck out of each spot where the aphids are hanging out. This is non-toxic to the plants, but suffocates the aphids.

I sprayed all 15 plants down yesterday, while my neighbor looked on in bafflement (all of my neighbors, while quite lovely people, are not really nature lovers, and are therefore baffled by just about anything I do in my yard, from digging up dandelions to fertilizing and pruning the crepe myrtles). While I listened to a summer thunderstorm raging through the night, I hoped it would knock the aphid carcasses off and that my remaining lilies would once again be pristine. This morning revealed that the leaves and stems are just as covered as they were before, but there seemed to be less movement of the insect variety, so I'm hopeful that the problem has been dealt with.

But even if the bugs are still clinging to life and my lilies, I have a huge supply of dish soap and a relentless will. Even if it means I have the "cleanest" flower bed in the state, I'm going to stay at it until the threat is gone!

Next week, we may head back to the farm, this time for blackberries and peaches, so I may have more jam ideas for you, or other recipes!

All content and images are ©The Casual Diva, except where otherwise noted. Content may not be republished without prior consent of the author.

Return to nature

I'm finally back, after a week in the Midwest visiting family, followed by a week of trying to catch up on everything. It honestly took me by surprise how much I had to deal with when I came back! If I had planned ahead, and I usually do, I would have prepped posts ahead of time. But that didn't happen, so for this, like with the rest of my life, I'm playing a bit of catch-up.

Of course, I dove right back into my regularly scheduled life as soon as my feet landed on my home turf again. I spent a day with my girlfriends to celebrate one friend's birthday with lunch, pedicures, and shopping. There was the inevitable PT appointment to deal with the pain resulting from a 2500 mile road trip. Friday was packed with lunch with my theater "brother" and a happy hour where my friend's husband's band played.

Saturday dawned bright and warm (but not too warm, as has been the case with this entire summer, to my everlasting gratitude!), and I headed up to Gifford Pinchot State Park to meet my friends Dave and Mari, who were camping there for the weekend.

Gifford Pinchot Lake

Now, I'm not a huge fan of camping. I've done it, and it's fun and all, but I don't sleep particularly well on the ground, and I'm really the type of person who is not comfortable if my hair doesn't get washed every day. But I definitely enjoy the other aspects of camping - being surrounded by the sounds of nature, spending time with friends, sitting around a campfire. And in recent years, I've decided that I kind of like hiking. I'm no expert hiker, and usually by the last mile or two, I'm only moving under the motivation that I'm almost to the point where I can take off my shoes and relax.

We didn't get the chance to hike at all last year, due to busy schedules, so I had been badgering my friends to go this year. Once all three of us were free from show schedules (we're all performers - that's how we met), we decided, almost spur of the moment, that this was our weekend.

From the end of the caravan

We set out around 1pm, planning to hike the 8 miles or so around the lake in the park, or as much of it as my injured knees would allow. Dave and Mari are experienced hikers/campers, and were fully decked out in their "roughing-it" gear, although Dave had to find a new walking stick along the trail, as he'd accidentally broken his while loading their camping gear into the car. I was armed with extra water, sunscreen (I don't venture outside without it!), a few granola bars, knee brace, and cell phone (for taking pictures only).

Wineberries - Yum!

The Lakeside Trail was well marked, except for one little jog where we were pretty sure we were following an old overgrown trail and had to kind of forge through the woods a bit. We found wineberries along the trail, which are edible and sweet, and red baneberries, or "bird crack" as Mari dubbed them, which are incredibly toxic but lovely to look at. Dave pointed out the two disc golf courses along our route, and explained the game and the difficulty of each tee we passed. The day was gorgeous, the company even better, and even though we could hear lots of voices filtering upward from the lake, we actually encountered very few people along the trail. Really, just a perfect day!

The "not too steep" trail.
Yeah right, Dave!

Because my knee wasn't suffering too badly (especially once I put on the knee brace), we even detoured along an adjoining trail, which Dave, our navigator, assured me wasn't steep. Ahem.

By the time we reached the campsite again, we had hiked 8.7 miles. We were pleasantly exhausted and had a few blisters on our toes, but were happy with the day and life in general. And I think we were all happy to change into flip flops and crash in our camp chairs. After a delicious campfire dinner, we lounged by the fire until the late hour and the mosquitoes reminded me that it was time for me to leave.

If you've never gone hiking, I highly recommend it, especially this summer, when the weather has been so mild and lovely. But either start small, or go with someone who is experienced, like I do, because it's definitely easy to get in over your head!

All content and images are ©The Casual Diva, except where otherwise noted. Content may not be republished without prior consent of the author.

Strawberry Jam - Theme and Variations

This spring, I got it in my head that I wanted to start making my own jam. An interesting idea, given that 1)I am not an expert canner and have not, in fact, made jam without my mother doing the lion's share of the work, and 2)I only eat jam sporadically.

Nevertheless, I was determined that this, if nothing else, would be my quest for the summer. After all, what says summer more than fresh berries and homemade jam? One of my co-workers suggested a pick-your own farm about 30 miles away (since, in all of my jam-making wisdom, I had decided that only freshly picked-by-my-own-two-hands fruit would do. No store bought berries in my jam!). I eagerly checked the farm's website, waiting for strawberries to ripen, and then for the berry-picking schedule to match up with my all-too-rare free Saturdays.

Finally, the day arrived, and my three friends and I met to pick what strawberries we could still find. Since it was close to the end of the season, I was hoping, praying even, for about 5lbs - enough for a single batch of jam, and maybe a few extra to snack on.

I ended up with exactly 15lbs of fresh, beautiful strawberries.

It was also the first day that blueberries were available to pick, so I thought, eh, why not.

Three pounds of blueberries later, with no plan and tired knees (strawberry plants are close to the ground), we decided we had enough produce to keep us busy. I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening washing and hulling (cutting the tops off) strawberries.

The next day, I was raring to go, even though I only had a few precious hours between singing at church and meeting friends at a dinner theater in which to embark on my quest for jam. I decided to go start with the tried and true recipe that Mom and I had always used - the recipe in the Sure-Jell box.

Sure-Jell is my pectin of choice, in part, because this is what my mom always used, and in part, because I know it works and helps the jam get to the thicker consistency that I like. I am a creature of habit, it would seem. I gathered all of my supplies so that I wouldn't be racing all around my kitchen, tripping over the cat and scorching my jam. This included:

• Two dozen half-pint jars with lids and sealing rings, freshly washed in hot water
• A colander
• A 4-cup measuring cup
• A large non-stick pot
• A funnel
• Jar tongs
• A ladle
• A potato masher
• A deep stainless steel stockpot with pasta strainer insert (I used this in lieu of investing in an actual canning pot, which I simply don't have room for)
• 7 cups Sugar
• Sure-Jell
• Strawberries

I washed the berries a second time, because yes, I am a bit obsessive and wanted to make sure that any bits of leaves did not pollute my jam. Then I gleefully mashed 5 cups of strawberries with my potato masher - this was always my job when Mom and I made jam. 

Next, I added the pectin, then heated the entire mix on medium-high heat until I got a nice rolling boil (when the bubbling doesn't disappear when you stir). Then I added the seven (yes, 7!!!) cups of sugar all at once, and stirred until my rolling boil returned.

Then, it was on to the hot and sticky part - skimming the foam off of the cooked jam. I just used a regular spoon to remove the foam from the surface of the jam, and put it in a teacup for later consumption. After all, it is edible, and contains all of the sugary goodness of the jam, but the foam could make the jam cloudy (i.e., less gorgeous) in the jars. I also understand that it can have an effect on how well the jars seal, probably because of the air bubbles in the foam. I just stick it in the fridge and eat it first.

Once the foam was exiled to its container, it was time to start the actual canning. I had purchased the Ball Utensil Set, mostly for the tongs, but I think every piece in this kit made it a wise investment for a beginner like me. The funnel fit the mouth of the jars so perfectly that drippings were few and far between, and the headspace tool was perfect for making sure I had not overfilled my jars (something I'm really bad at just eyeballing). Each jar got a thorough wipe around the rim to make sure that nothing would interfere with the seal. Earlier, I had poured hot water over just the lids in a small saucepan, both to sterilize them and to help soften the seal in preparation for the processing (plus, the instructions told me to).

Now came the part that I was nervous about. And by nervous, I mean paranoid that I would ruin everything. You see, my mom has always used the paraffin wax method of sealing her jars of jam, which involves pouring melted cooking wax in several layers over the top of jam to seal. For the most part, this had always worked for us. Sure, we'd lose the odd jar to mold or when a mouse would chew through the wax, but that was rare, and our rate of success was greatly in our favor. However, I had been doing all kinds of research prior to my jamming weekend, and I had read that the wax method was increasingly being abandoned in favor of the water-bath, or traditional canning method. 

But I hadn't ever done this before! What if I messed up? What if none of the jars sealed? I can't eat 8 jars of jam all by myself in the next few weeks!

Then I reminded myself that I am a competent, independent, and determined woman. And that, if nothing else, I'm fully capable of following a written set of thoroughly tested instructions. So into the pasta strainer they went, and then the whole shebang went into the simmering water.

And came out 10 minutes later looking like jam!

I couldn't help but pat myself on the back. After all, look what I did! Never mind that millions of people over the years have done the same, or more complicated versions. I did it!

I waited just a few minutes, until I thought I could test the seals without burning my fingerprints off. Five lids stayed down, meaning a seal had been achieved. Three did not.

Okay, I thought, three out of eight isn't horrible. Not ideal, but not horrible. I can eat three jars of jam. Maybe I'll take it to work.

So I trotted off to get ready for the theater. Because I like poking at my own wounds, I tested the seals again just before I headed out. The three that had not sealed earlier were now sealed! How marvelous - I was not a partial failure at canning after all! But, whoops! Three jars that had previously sealed now popped back when pressed. Shoot! Still have three uncooperative jars - just a different three than before.

When I got home from the show around midnight, guess what I couldn't resist doing again ... only this time, all eight lids had sealed. Strange, but a relief!

The rest of the week was a marathon of processing jam and baking, in an attempt to use up all of the berries. I tried finding other jam recipes that might offer some variety, but ended up just making minor modifications to the Sure-Jell recipe I had used in the beginning (again, that terror of the unknown at work). Over the next few days, I made:

• Strawberry Basil Jam (adding 6 Tablespoons of freshly chopped basil to the puree) - this is probably my favorite jam I've ever made!
• Strawberry Vanilla Jam (adding 3 teaspoons of vanilla extract to the puree)
• 2 Strawberry Pies

Oh, and let's not forget the blueberries! Breakfast has been homemade blueberry muffins for the last week!

The remainder of the fruit has now taken up residence in the freezer, awaiting future use. I've already told Mom that I'll probably bring Strawberry Pretzel Salad for our Independence Day picnic later this week. And I've learned a lot from this experience.

1. Jam is ridiculously easy to make, and becomes quite addictive. It is also a very sticky endeavor.
2. I am absolutely a farm girl at heart, even though I haven't lived on a farm since I was 3 years old. I think a big part of the reason I ended up with so many berries is that I was just enjoying the picking!
3. My jam recipe calls for more berries than I expected.
4. But 15 lbs of strawberries is still a lot of berries!

All content and images are ©The Casual Diva, except where otherwise noted. Content may not be republished without prior consent of the author.