Friday, March 20, 2009

A huntin' we will go

With longer days bringing more sunlight, small growing things begin to appear.

Nettles, for instance, make a marvelous tea. They can be used as soup greens, and in baking the same way spinach is. C has a great method for harvesting these prickly little guys:

Take a jar and a pair of scissors with you on your gathering expedition. Clip the tender ends of the nettles directly into the jar. They are the most delectable part. 



The woods behind the house.


Bounty.

Hope to see you in the woods...

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Thrifted

With a single thrift shoppe, and nary a garage sale in sight during these final winter days, thrifting can be a bit of a challenge out here. Luckily there's the amazing, magical Mall to visit, and the thrift store happens to be a good one.

The Mall, a subject of a later post to be sure, is also known as The Dump, which is a far more descriptive name, since that's what it is: a take-it-or-leave-it, at the Island garbage disposal place. 

Thus far the Mall has giveth this pair of Keds:
Free Keds by you.


This cool 70s book.



This ah-mazing 70s mug.


This short and stout little teapot. Made in Finland.


This 50s Juniors dress.

And that my friends is hardly all at all...

There's also the off-Island thrift store, which I visited recently, an aside on our quest for Thai-food, books and yarn. The boat ride takes from forty minutes to and hour and half, but it is much fun, there's beautiful scenery and you can see seals, otters (like I did), and even orcas, if you're lucky.

On The Boat by you.
On the Boat again.


Mt. Baker from the boat.

Mole by you.
Passing the boat-time.

Big Island Mural by you.
Mural.

Off-Island, as mentioned previously, has many things our Island doesn't, like a movie theatre, a yarn store and a used bookstore which, I love. None of those places however, compare to the Thriftstore.

While there, I hit the shoe jackpot. Wicked Laura Ingalls boots, a cowboy-ish pair, little mexican booties to wear in the house, as well as comfy indoor-mocs, and a pair of hiking shoes to boot.





Laura Ingalls Shoes by you.

100% Thrifted Happiness! by you.
All items thrifted.


More thrifty stories coming soon. Watch this space. 'till then: Happy Thrifting!

Sunday, March 8, 2009

But still, it's a cage. Promise me you'll never put a living thing in it.

So the internets were on the fritz for most of the weekend, but I did other stuff instead, like participated in a composting workshop, made soup in a snowstorm, scored some thrift finds for a certain someone, and had lots of coffee with my awesome husband.

Never Love A Wild Thing... by you.
...Mr. Bell by you.

I also got yet another awesome package from sunny California and among the many goodies in it, was this gorgeous 90s dress, and the bird cage, and its escaped bird. Thank you Missa!

As a homage to this beautiful necklace I will leave you with a little related literature:

"Never love a wild thing, Mr. Bell," Holly advised him. "That was Doc's mistake. Always lugging home wild things. A hawk with a hurt wing. One time it was a full-grown bobcat with a broken leg. But you can't give your heart to a wild thing: the more you do, the stronger they will get. Until they're strong enough to run into the woods. Or fly into a tree. Then a taller tree. Then the sky. That's how you'll end up, Mr. Bell. If you let yourself love a wild thing. You'll end up looking at the sky."

"She's drunk." Joe Bell informed me.

If you've only seen the movie, you're damn fool, in my humble opinion. 

Mille Tendresses,

Sunday, March 1, 2009

America

America, why are your libraries full of tears? -Allen Ginsberg: The Howl

When Island people go to the mainland, they often refer to it as "going to America". This is because America has many things the Island does not; things like highways and freeways, franchise restaurants, Indian casinos, and military bases. There are Walmarts and Costcos, gun shops, and un-familiar faces, the endless crawl of traffic, the speed limits our car can barely make. Because of these things going off Island, and into America, can be at times kind of intense.

But then there are the music shops, the movie theatres, the museums, the strange wonderful roadside diners and antique stores, the mountains and rivers, the endless Zoo of the New, that draws us to cross the water.

This week we visited America for one of my favorite reasons: to see C's family. We had a lovely time, visiting with them, hanging out in Port Townsend, a Victorian town on the Peninsula, and even entering the dreaded Wmart, to buy me a sewing machine. Still, driving off that ferry you always feel suddenly lighter. The car enters a tunnel of trees, but even over the engine, you can hear a kind of silence, and you're home.

I honestly don't think I could quite handle living in the "real" America. The Island of course, has many things that America has not. Read all about them here.


Ferry Boat by you.
On our way back home.

Twins

Somebody asked us this week if we were related.
C and the Endless Pier by you.


Ye Olden Port Townsend by you.

Methinks it's our matching wardrobe.