I had the opportunity to go berry picking with some of the women in my extended family yesterday. We piled up in the car and started down the road towards the nearest u-pick. It happens to straddle “civilization,” perched between the countryside and a freeway that is bringing construction to the neighborhood. With berries at only $1.50/lb it seemed like the perfect early afternoon jaunt that married accessible with affordable.

The place was well kept but it was only after a long drive down a gravel road and going the wrong way on an unexpected roundabout that we found ourselves at the place. The berry season had just opened that morning and rows of lucious berries had already been stripped and taken home by happy hunters. It took us an hour but we came home with over twenty pounds of berries. We must have looked like quite a sight–some of us with berry stains that looked like blood stains and others with scratches marking up their legs, proof that they had fought the berry patch and come out conquerers.

When we got back home, we made a small batch of freezer jam. It should hold well and since we put them in stackable plastic containers, not take up too much space in the freezer. The day was just too hot to can properly. Hurray for shortcuts!

I’ve been having some blonde days lately. My most recent one was yesterday when I put checks straight into the ATM, bypassing the whole security envelope thing. Once I realized my mistake, I had to go inside the bank to make sure that it would be alright. The teller was quite amused and told me I had talent. Thank you Mr. Smart-Alec.

I thought that today was going well. I went and bought supplies for tonight’s dinner, came home, did my thing and started on my rose-petal drying experiement. The rose bushes outside have been heavy with fragrant blooms and I’ve been taking full advantage of them when I want to take a long soak in the tub. The realization hit me that during the rest of the year, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy this same luxury. So what did I decide to do? Dry them of course! And, as a child of the ’80s, I decided to use the microwave. You can put anything in there, right?

That’s what I thought.

I  got two plates of rose petals dried before the microwave blacked out on me. The normally active display screen went blank–leaving me with a steadily growing pit in my stomach. I looked behind the microwave, hoping that somehow, I had telepathically moved the plug. No such luck. I’m still without those powers. I moved the plug into the other socket. Still no luck.

Crum.

With half the family gone on vacation and a small fortune having just been spent on repairing the car, the death of the microwave would fortell my own doom.  I jiggled the plug out of the electrical socket and tried the plug on the other side of the kitchen.

The lights were back on.

So instead of having a $200 jar of rose petals, I just have some wires that need some jiggery-pokery. There has got to be another quick way to dry those petals. Any thoughts?

This summer’s warm weather has got me hitting the iced drinks. Lucky for me, all of them are incredibly easy to make and don’t require much thought. A recent trip to the Strawberry fields has me adding sliced, juicy strawberries to my otherwise straight-forward lemonade.

What I’ve really been loving this summer is sweet tea. As part of the population that was not born in the South, this drink was foreign to me for the longest time. Some friends introduced me to it a few years ago but it wasn’t until a warm day this spring that I discovered my love for it.

~Sweet Tea~

3 large (family sized) black-tea bags

2 Cups of cold water

1 Cup of sugar

Place the two cups water in a tea pot and add the tea bags. Bring to a boil, remove from heat and let steep for five minutes. Pour warm tea into empty pitcher. Add the sugar and stir until the sugar is dissolved. Fill remaining pitcher with cold water and ice.

I never tire of this video I found while looking for a serious recipe. Enjoy.

Today was one of those days.

Not one of those days, but one of those days that you just kick back and enjoy the sunshine. I have the sunburn to prove it too.

Life has been taking some interesting twists and turns lately. There are times when I want to pull out all my hair in frustration, but seeing as being bald would not be beautiful, I refrain myself. I can rant and rave over the disappointments, the rocky times, and those glorious mountain-top views. I can grow despondent when I slip, when I trip, or when I fall off a cliff. But, I can also choose to make the best of things. As the adage goes, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

Seeing this video made me realize just how much I could work on my attitude. It’s the story of Nick, a guy not to much older than myself, but with a testimony that touches millions.

Check out the video. You just might be seeing things a little bit differently by the end of it.

It’s funny how quickly life can change.

A few months ago, I was working hard on a documentary, focusing on people and schedules instead of anything somewhat domestic. My room had never looked worse and I lost a lot of weight because of the hours, stress, and wonky eating schedule.  Once everything was over, I became super-agressive in applying for full-time jobs. I wanted to join corporate America and get on with life. Make some money, buy some darling clothes (because I still can’t sew), and become another twenty-something paying their dues.

But life is a little tricky.

I’ve had plenty of interviews, plenty of offers, but nothing ever felt right.  There were many “perfect” jobs but nothing that just sang. I kept turning things down, knowing that I was doing the right thing but not knowing when MY job would crop up.  I took a few test, planned a few vacations with my family and was ready to sign up for a temp agency (perhaps a better way to balance work and play over the summer?) and then…

bad health struck.

Not me but people in my extended family. And who better to help out than the freelancing writer in the family? I don’t mind. It’s good for me. I’m getting a crash course in everything domestic–cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc.

So hopefully, in the coming months, I’ll have more stories to tell. That’s a perk, right?

I’m finally done with post-production of the documentary.

The past few months have been a blur of cameras, long nights, crazy work schedules, and even more hazordous eating schedules. I feel like I have aged, not only because of the bags that now line my eyes but for what I saw while on location. I was the writer for the project, so I had my fingers in a little bit of everything; screenwriting, blog writing (yes, I actually did do some blogging!), PR, and marketing.

I’m ready to get more domesticated. I’m ready to start caring again. And yes, I’m ready to start blogging again.

Lest this blog bite the dust…I’m in the beginning stages of filming a documentary. The most domestic thing I do is make sure that I’m presentable by the time I start interviewing people.

 Peace out until I see you on the other side of production.

Whilst roaming through cyberspace during a particularly lazy midwinter afternoon, I came across this article. It’s about bringing back the hope chest.

What in the world is a hope chest you might ask. It’s not the latest trend in cosmetic fashion but rather a return to an activity our grannies did. They were given chests or trunks in which to stash away things for their future marriages. Family heirlooms were passed down through these; the silver set, hand-stitched quilts and the fine china. It was how a young women started down the path of homemaking, before she even had a man in her life.

When I was a kid, it was the trend in my church to have one. I mocked it for years. Until I found the coolest set of plates at the ripe old age of 19. That’s when I bought a locker and started filling it with sage green china from Japan, green cappucchino mugs and whatever else suited my fancy. There’s nothing like being a working girl with money to spend. I hope my future husband likes green because it’s non-optional.

What are your thoughts on hope chests?

Some friends of mine have done an apron swap. I sat out of it, too afraid to actually give away one of my creations or touch the sewing machine. But my eyes were open. No longer are aprons the frilly things of county fair lore, displayed by the pickled beets or cross-stitch samplers. There are some really cute ones out there. Here are some that just inspire me to go domestic and bake something.

(hostessblog.com)

(techiediva.com)

(wrapables.com)

(hostessblog.com)

(theapronstrings.com)

(jessiesteele.com)

 (the white fluffy stuff is from elizabethscokinproductions.com)

(coolmompicks.com)

(jessiesteele.com)

(kitschnglam.com)

(busybdesigns.com)

And for your little bundle of joy who is just learning to eat baby food…

 (etsy.com)