Tag Archives: Julie Petroski

So: out of practice

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exhausted puppy

 

Today I’m starting with the gratuitous dog photo. Gidget pretty much sums up how I feel today. The past two rainy days have me wanting to snuggle under the covers—or be in a cozy pub in England, whiling away the time.

The real problem? I am out of practice in the staying up late department.

At one time, long, long ago, I was a night owl. I happily got my second wind around 10 pm and would toil away in the pre-dawn hours on freelance work, doing chores, reading an entire novel in one sitting, or dancing in a nightclub.

Like I said, that was long, long ago, before I married an early bird (see, opposites do attract) and had to walk dogs in the early morning hours. And before I had a whole list of to-dos complete before work. Good thing it was too wet to play in the dirt today.

You see, last night I decided that I was having such a good time chatting with our visitors that I would stay up even though Bruce went to bed. He hit the pillow at around 10 pm. Not me! Our visitors like to stay up late.

The lesson? Something has changed. For the first time in my life, I can no longer function on 4 hours of sleep a night. I’m a little afraid to know what an all-nighter might do to me.

Guess my new secret power is the ability to rise before the dawn.

 

 

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Sow: crazy ideas

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not exactly plant seeds • image from McCormick.com

I’m beginning to think I have a reputation as a girl who will try anything once. In the garden, people! (Remember, “Sow” is in the title of this post, not “So.”)

If you’ve followed along with me for the past couple of years, you’ll recall that I’ve tried many “experiments” at the Mortroski Midcentury Urban Farm thus far. Some have been dismal failures. Like every tomato plant I’ve put in the ground, not counting Seymore the feral Sweet 100 that’s eating Raised Bed #4. Cabbage. Broccoli. Brussels Sprouts. Squash of all kinds. Watermelon. Cucumbers.

Some have been fabulous. Copious amounts of tomatillos filling the freezer! Black eyed peas galore! Every single kind of pepper producing faster than we can eat or give away. Malabar spinach. Beets. Two little basil plants that I have had to “prune” and bring to work by the bushel basket. Kale. Chard.

But this experimental idea, shared with me by my pal Mack one night on Facebook, has got to be the weirdest—and the most tempting: plant a Zatarain’s crab boil bag. No, Mack did not make it up. It’s a thing. Supposedly you can grow all sorts of amazing peppers. Over 21 varieties. Cilantro and a whole bunch of other amazing herbs that go into this New Orleans’ delicacy.

If the Kroger by my office would have had a box of Zatarian’s yesterday, I would have bought it and planted it just to see what happened. I would have had the most amazing story to tell you!

Or so I thought…

Turns out, if you Google it, it’s (wait for it, I know you’ll be surprised) a really well executed April Fool’s Day prank!

Good on ya, Mack. You got me. I wanted to believe! I wanted a whole passel of Cajun peppers and herbs. I wanted to tell the world about my crab boil garden—maybe McCormick would have sponsored the garden, you know, like NASCAR sponsors drivers. I’d wear the Zatarain’s logo proudly.

Alas, now I need to come up with another crazy experiment for Spring 2015. Got any bright ideas? And don’t say money tree. I hear the climate’s not right in North Texas.

Your gratuitous dog photo of the day is a bit of a throw back to a few year’s ago when we only had one G:

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We’re both a bit older now, but we’re still just as cute • photo by Bruce

 

 

Sow: storm’s coming

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The sky’s been dark and ominous for a big chunk of today. Can’t blame the end of Daylight Savings Time either—everyone’s anxiously awaiting the storms that are supposedly coming over the next three days. Today we have a 30% chance of rain, but I’m willing to bet it’s higher. Tomorrow it’s at least 50%.

Can you see me doing my rain dance? You see, I always know when a big thunder-boomer is coming. Besides George pacing, panting, and needing his Thundershirt, my noggin’ tells me so. I get these weird little headaches that don’t go away, no matter how much water I drink or what kind of headache pill I pop. It’s very common here—several of my coworkers have the same thing happen to them. And they don’t let up until the storm is well underway.

Still, a bit of pain is no big deal when it means 1) full rain barrels, 2) free water from the sky, and 3) happy plants.

Speaking of happy plants, I’d really like the spinach to get going. The little teeny sprouts are super cute and all, but I’d like them to be bigger and heartier before things start getting colder around here. I planted them in the stock tanks to help protect them from the cold a bit. And of course, I’ve got frost cloth for the entire set up.

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Spinach sprouts, a few days ago

The Malabar spinach is definitely on it’s way out and needs to be pulled out. I was hoping that there would be a bit of cross over between the two so we’d have a constant supply of spinach but alas, that is not meant to be. Good thing the chard is doing its thing. After such a weird summer, the fall veggies seem to be taking their own sweet time.

Perhaps the lesson for this fall is patience.

Gratuitous dog photo of the day:

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Gidget sleeps well anywhere and everywhere

Sow: Gilroy experience

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While I’m not a Native Californian, the years I spent in both Southern and Northern California have definitely shaped who I am. My love of dirt may be genetic (my paternal grandparents were farmers), but my appreciation of produce comes directly from California. Until we moved there when I was 12-ish, vegetables were mostly frozen or canned. Oranges came from nearby Florida (we lived in Savannah, Georgia). Then we moved to California, where produce was everywhere. My memories? The Irvine Ranch market. The citrus groves. Strawberries and artichokes. The lemons, grapefruit, loquats, and avocados in our various backyards. The Los Gatos farmers’ market. My mouth still waters thinking about the produce I purchased a million years ago as a new college grad—I sure could make $20 go far and provide a week’s worth of meals thanks to farmers like Dirty Girl Produce.

There really is something amazing about getting your food directly from the people that grow it. Hearing the stories of how it came to be, the trials of the weather, the experimentation with new crops and varieties, makes you feel like what you’ve been allowed to buy is a real miracle. Because it is.

I spent my teen years near the Garlic Capital of the World. Gilroy, California claims that title. Driving through there with my family and later as an adult on my own cross-California adventures, I was fascinated by the distinctive smell of millions of cloves of garlic growing in the hot inland Northern California sun. It was strong. It was pungent. It made me hungry even though it was so overwhelming.

One late summer I visited the annual Gilroy Garlic Festival with a pal from college. We tasted garlic ice cream and garlic wine (don’t bother) but also delicious aioli and artichokes and scampi. The very smell of garlic makes me think of California. Not just driving through Gilroy with the windows down, smelling that heady vampire-repelling smell, but also walking through North Beach in San Francisco. If I had to pick an official culinary scent of California, it would be garlic. Sorry oranges, strawberries, and wine. You are definitely in my top 10, just not in the coveted #1 position.

And I’ve always wondered how garlic grows.

So when Farmer Megan at Pure Land Organic posted that she needed help getting next years’s garlic harvest into the ground, I jumped at the chance and volunteered for a few hours of labor, a free lunch and a bag of amazing organic veggies (gonna need to make some roasted peppers and another batch of cowboy candy with the bounty). How cool would that be? Bruce got volun-told I’m afraid, but he was excited to help too.

It’s how we spent today:

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Farmer Allan, me, Farmer Megan taking a break • photo by Bruce

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Garlic planting volunteers • photo by Farmer Megan

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Farmer Pop’s planter • photo by Bruce

In short it was awesome! Bruce and I put around 2300 garlic cloves into the ground. And it was super easy thanks to Farmer Pop’s (Megan’s dad) handy dandy John Deere ride-on planter.

 

All Bruce and I had to do is sit side-by-side for a couple of hours and push root ends of  garlic cloves into the holes that the planter made, then pinch the soil over the holes. Easy peasy! Such a nice day to hang out outside.

And now I know how to plant garlic. I’m going to add it to the rotation at the urban farm and get some in the ground next weekend. Thanks for the planting lesson, Farmer Megan!

Today’s gratuitous dog photo of the day comes from last night’s surprise on Bruce—he’s got a big birthday coming up and we have a very busy next couple of months so the friends who visited us last night decided to celebrate his birthday early. Here, Gidget is helping with the birthday candles and Guinness is asleep on the sofa!

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Happy (early) birthday, Bruce!

So: fall evening

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It’s a lovely cool fall night. We are hanging out outside with some friends. Bruce made a fire even!

It’s funny how the weather works here. Last weekend it was hot–like over 90. But not this weekend. I love it–it’s a delightful change.

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The summer veggies are still growing though. But I fear that the okra is almost done. Peppers are going crazy still.

We spent time at the vet today. Guinness has a hurt foot–seems like he has something stuck in his paw like a piece of a burr. So he’s the gratuitous dog photo of the day–isn’t his sock cute?

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Until tomorrow! I’ll have an awesome farm story to tell.

So: in summary

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Hey! Long time no write! Me, not you. To say that 2014 has been full of surprises is a major understatement. If there’s one thing that 2014 has been, it’s unpredictable. And while many parts of its randomness have been fabulous, they have also sucked up my writing time.

First, let me bring you up to speed about the weather this summer in North Texas. You may remember my frequent rants about the ever-changing weather patterns and their effects on the Urban Farm. This summer, the weather was milder than the usual 100 day strings of 100°F+ temperatures. It rained. Several times, even.

Second, plants like it when they aren’t trying to survive on the surface of the sun. They like it a lot. And they produce tons and tons of vegetables. And when you plant things that thrive on the surface of the sun normally, they go crazy for the cooler weather. I’m not complaining: I have bags of black eyed peas, okra, and roasted tomatillos in the freezer. We have enjoyed many yummy meals and so have our friends and coworkers!

It’s still going too. Fall crops are in — spinach is sprouting, kale transplants are getting bigger, collards are fighting some bug that’s nibbling one them, chard is so beautiful. My coworker’s chickens Jenny and Penny are enjoying all of the “chicken treats” I  bring them from the garden and giving me some eggs in return. The composters are full so I’m glad for the girls.

 

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One of my many instagram photos from the 2014 harvests. Follow me @julie_petroski

 

And that darn feral tomato plant has gone completely insane. I named him “Seymore” after the Little Shop of Horrors’ plant. Seymore is covered in tomatoes (again) and taking up all of raised bed #4. I’m looking forward to more free tomatoes!

 

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Seymore! He’s a Sweet 100 tomato plant.

Third, we built things! Painted things! Traveled to see things! Bought a big thing! More about that later in the month since I’ve decided to force myself to write again by doing NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month). Wish me luck. I may need to can and schedule some posts in order to fulfill my !

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Fourth, 4th Quarter. Work’s been a little bit busier. Interesting stuff though, so I’m definitely not complaining. In fact, my company let us go home at 3 pm tonight since it’s Halloween. Sweet! Now I don’t have any big plans for it, but if you do, have a great time and don’t eat too much candy. I’ll talk at you tomorrow.

Back by popular demand (ok, mine) is the Gratuitous Dog Photo of the Day!

George says, "it's about time, lady."

George says, “It’s about time, lady. Get back to blogging already.” Photo by Bruce

 

So: only ten?!?!

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I keep getting tagged on Facebook (thanks, fellow book lovers, Stuart and Sheree!) to share the ten books that have made the biggest impact in my life. This started happening right before I went on vacation a few weeks ago and until now, I haven’t had the bandwidth to address to this mind-blowing ask.

Mind-blowing because I have been reading forever—and there are a lot of books that have impacted me. No joke since my mom was a teacher and taught me how to read before I was in pre-school, probably so I would amuse myself while she looked after my two years younger brother. Instead of napping (which I hated), I’d head to my room to read. And stay there for hours. No one ever had to encourage me to go to the library. Teachers never had to prod me to challenge myself—I read what I liked and looking back on it read books I probably didn’t fully understand when I was in elementary school.

But in the past 8 years, I’ve gotten out of the habit. Reading social media posts, blogs, snippets of information, and magazines have replaced the books in my life. TV too. It’s easy to keep looking at screens after looking at them all day. And that’s why I decided to abandon my iPad. Although I love the convenience of having lots of reading material at my disposal, those books and magazines are languishing behind the glass. I forget that they’re there.

A BIG thank you to my sweet friend Melissa for giving me the book Carry On, Warrior: The Power of Embracing Your Messy, Beautiful Life (perhaps a hint, but a nice read regardless) because it really and truly was the catalyst to reigniting my passion for reading earlier this summer. And reminding me just how much I really loved to hold a real book in my hands.

Then I read two books (Mad World: An Oral History of New Wave Artists and Songs That Defined the 1980s and Divergent) during my vacation and they applied a swift blow to my noggin with the long-lost steel-toed Doc Martins of my youth. “How could you have forgotten us? We’ve been friends for most of your life? We will not be replaced!” they said, speaking on behalf of the shelves of their brethren I’ve plowed through and cast aside. So now it’s back to paper for me.

I’m frequently mocked for being a fast reader. Truth is I’m a reading glutton. If I love a book, it’s a deliciously gooey and decadent feast. No matter how much I get through, I can’t get enough. I will devour that book—sleep, chores, whatever, be damned. If I don’t love it, I know myself well enough that it needs to be donated to charity immediately. Or returned to the library. Or left in an airplane seat pocket. Otherwise, it will languish on a dusty bookshelf until we move to another dwelling.

Yes, my name is Julie and I’m addicted to reading. Now that you know another of my dirty little secrets, you’ll understand why I’m reading more again. It’s a great vice for a middle-aged writer. And it won’t make me fat or put a hurting on the bank account.

Without further ado, here are 10 books I love that influenced my thoughts, perspective on many things, and writing. Admittedly I am cheating just a wee bit with the excesses presented in my list. And my list could change tomorrow once I ponder what I’ve forgotten, but today’s 10 are a certainly a diverse and motley crew:

1. Ogilvy on Advertising: Without a doubt, this is the book that made me realize that advertising was the right career for me. I was given it as a first day of work assignment by my first “adult job” boss and I polished it off in a couple of hours. Then I re-read it. And thought to myself, “One day, I want to work for this guy.” I never got that wish, but many years later, I worked at the place with his name on the door.

2. Neuromancer by William Gibson. Yes, I love sci-fi. And dystopian fiction. And all of William Gibson’s books. Nerd!

3. The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood. Canadian content that I didn’t realize was Canadian when I read it back in high school. And more dystopian fiction.

4. Anything by Dr. Seuss. I’m a big fan

5. The Bobbsey Twins entire series/Hardy Boys entire series/Nancy Drew entire series. And I am thrilled that my three little nieces will get to enjoy the ones my mom squirreled away in a box in her garage (they were hers too!) in a few more years.

6. The Little House on the Prairie series.

7. Lord of the Rings series (If it’s not obvious yet that I really, really, really like books that come in series, you may need to know that I also loved the Twilight series and all the Harry Potter books, although not the movies. Also all of the Shopaholic books and anything by Sophie Kinsella. Truthfully, I don’t really like the stories to end and the characters to leave me.)

8. The Diary of a Young Girl. It gave a face to something completely incomprehensible to me. Another book I’ve read many times.

9. The Catcher in the Rye. Yes, I could be a moody teen. I loved all of Salinger’s works and really do hope that he left us a manuscript.

10. tie: The Riverside Shakespeare and New Oxford Annotated Bible. Both of these books were critical to my undergraduate degree in English and what I learned in the classes where I used them has proven to be extremely useful in adult life for a whole variety of reasons.

And if you’re wondering if my book choices are similar to others, here’s a cool infographic.

If you’ve been missing the gratuitous dog photos because I’ve been too busy reading/gardening/working/vacationing/a whole bunch of things I’ll catch you up on later, don’t worry, here’s a cute one:

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George snuggling with Guinness during a thunderstorm

 

PS: In the past few weeks I’ve been reading whole novels in one sitting. Real books, not on my iPad. I’m thinking I’d better renew my library card. I seem to be loving young adult novels: Tuesday night’s was The Fault in Our Stars and I plowed through Divergent on our flight back from London. Both were exactly what I needed to relax and enjoy some time well spent.

So: understanding gifts

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My cousin Ann passed away on July 23 just a month after being diagnosed with cancer. We never lived near enough to each other to hang out a lot and our 10-year age difference probably wouldn’t have made us best buds as kids, even though she always made a point to spend time with me when our family visited hers. Maybe that’s because in addition to sharing the same middle name, we have many similarities, including being what some people call “free spirits.”

Ann spent her life caring for and supporting others as a nurse and also as a laughter yoga instructor. She was a very spiritual person, mediated daily, and built a labyrinth on her property with the help of many friends. S In my adult life, I really enjoyed our email correspondence. And I will treasure the memories of her visit to Toronto with her husband and son. She will be deeply missed by all of the people whose lives she touched.

Today her family is holding a celebration of her life and while I can’t be with her family and friends in person, I will be remembering her today. Hopefully I’ll get a lot of laughs in because that’s what she’d want.

I shared the poem that follows with her son and husband.

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Understanding the gift

Laughing high school student babysitting
An enthusiastic 5 year old.

Laughing working woman mentoring
An angst-filled high school student.

Laughing vacationer reminding
A jaded worker what’s really important

You always included me.
You always invited me.
You always laughed for me.
Because you always loved me.
Even though we were so far apart.

I could feel your laughs
Through your emails
And funny notes.

I could see your laughs
When you shared your dreams
In all their wild glories.

But I only understood your laughs
Once I really thought about them

They were breaths of kindness.
Sounds of compassion.
Exclamations of love.
All verbal embraces.
Freely given.

Precious gifts bestowed on many.
To make them rich beyond their wildest dreams
Not in their wallets!
In the place where it really matters.
The place where love resides.

Your laughter forced hearts open wider
Teacher, we’ll pay it forward.
And whenever we hear our own laughter,
We’ll feel your voice.

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From Ann’s obituary: “Her motto: “Fear less and be fearless ” teachs us it will be okay. Live well, laugh often, “Namaste”.”

We would all be well served to follow her words.

 

Sow: seed saving

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It’s been one of those months. Actually 2014 has been one of those years. I started this post on July 7 and for one of the oh-so-many reasons I haven’t written much this month, including the extra crazy daily harvesting, it got saved to draft.

Well, I’d better get back to writing since believe it or not, in North Texas, late July and the beginning of August is the right time to start getting stuff in the ground for the fall garden.

Yes, I am well aware that it’s the time of year when our little piece of heaven resembles the surface of the sun and children try to fry stuff on the sidewalks and even 5:30 am almost too hot to walk the Gs. But the grass has been unnaturally green for a good long while and the tomatillos and okra are touching the sky. I thank both the random rainfall we’ve had and the fabulous drip system we added to the urban farm.

We are in for another few days of abnormal rainy and cooler weather which seems to be the new normal down here. I hate to say it but it breaks up the sameness even though George has to sleep in his Thundershirt. (I really need to get him a modeling gig with that company.)

One plant that needs to get its seeds planted pretty soon is cilantro. Although you’d think that cilantro would grow wonderfully all year ’round here, it doesn’t. Like many Texas residents, it hates the heat. And the humidity also makes it look ugly, much like my crazy giant Texas hair last Thursday and Friday.

As soon as the weather heads up past 80°F (around 27°C, if I remember right), cilantro goes right to flower and starts tasting like soap. But if the taste of soap brings back wonderful childhood memories of special quality time spent with mom after expressing yourself with colorful grown up words, you’re in luck. You just won’t get any takers in the Mortroski Midcentury. We’ll eat ultra-bitter arugula and like it, but not soap-flavored tacos and guacamole.

I decided instead to let it go to coriander. Yes, that’s right cilantro the fresh green plant makes seeds that are ground into the spice coriander. The plant is also called that in some places, but it’s a little confusing when you ask for it as coriander at the supermarket around here. The dude you ask will take you to the little bottles of spices lined up in alphabetical order, not the produce section.

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Cilantro seeds (aka coriander) drying

So basically, I made my own pack of seeds to plant for the fall/winter crop. And all you have to do is let the cilantro go to seed, then let it dry out on the plant. Then cut the stems and bring them inside to dry out a bit more. I felt a few days was enough.

Next you’ll want to pack your patience or be in an especially cheerful, focused, or maniacal mood because you’re going to pluck the little seeds from the twiggy leftover bits of plant. One. By. One. I actually found it pretty therapeutic, but I also like to destem bushels of basil or shell blackeyed peas before work. Do it at your leisure, however. It does take a little time and if you rush, they go everywhere and one of your dogs will eat them and have breath that smells like an Indian restaurant, which is an improvement in George’s case.

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Coriander up close — looks just like the seed pack or the spice jar!

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The finished result: looks like I’ve got more than enough for fall planting — might have to share

So the cilantro seeds go back in the ground next month. Even though all of the other herbs are growing like crazy it’s the one I miss the most. Maybe it’s that soapy taste. I do have a fondness for spiciness.

Since I know you’ve missed the gratuitous dog photo of the day, I’ll give you a couple:

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Godiva tolerating George

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George tolerating Gadget

 

Sow: green sauce

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Happy July 4th and happy post-Canada Day! It’s the time for celebration! Fireworks!* Parties! Eating!

Remember when you were a kid and the summer was the fun time of year when you could do whatever you wanted to do. Every. Single. Day. Eating ice cream and watermelon (spitting the seeds when your mom wasn’t looking). Riding your bike. Swimming from dawn to dusk. Staying up late. Running around and playing outside.

Even though this grown up is mostly enjoying this summer in the over air conditioned comfort of a concrete and glass box, I’m trying to make the most of the sunshine and fun that comes with the season. Like right now: I’m sitting at the patio table (yes, we get wifi outside!), enjoying the sounds of summer (leaf blowers and birds chirping), admiring the jungly Urban Farm and watching the Gs lounge about.

It’s been fun seeing old pals (right, Helen, Christine, Fred and Chris?), meeting new ones (that’s you, Cam, Jon, and Louie), enjoying an amazing harvest on almost a daily basis, enjoying long walks with Bruce and the Gs, exploring new parts of Dallas, and yes, enjoying tasty treats. Luckily for us, lots of yummy stuff is coming directly from the Urban Farm.

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the first tomatillos with their husks still on. in the supermarket the husks are usually pretty dried out and more brown. they are also $2.99/lb at our local Albertsons.

One of those treats has to do with my tomatillo experimentation. I’ve harvested about 1 1/2 pounds of tomatillos  so far with more to come (so about $4.50 worth if you’re shopping at Albertsons). I planted them so I could make jars of homemade salsa verde (literal translation is “green sauce”.)

I’ve never really made it before—or knew how bountiful the plants could be. Usually I just pick up a jar at the grocery story.

When we got the latest issue of Bon Appetit, Bruce mentioned that he saw a simple recipe for salsa verde on one of the first pages of the issue. With almost all the required ingredients, I decided to give it a whirl, literally, as you’ll see in just a moment.

So we had tomatillos, onions, and cilantro leftover from a recipe (it’s too hot for it to grow here right now, it’s a fall/winter/spring herb). And lots of peppers.

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lots of peppers

But we didn’t have Serrano chiles. We have poblanos, jalapeños, and bell peppers. I picked jalapeños as my Serrano replacement, but I guess any spicy pepper would do.

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the recipe inspiration — thanks, Bruce!

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ready for a whirl in the Nutribullet

It was pretty easy to husk and quarter the tomatillos. I peeled and quartered the onion. Threw the cilantro in there too. And I was careful with the jalapeño since sometimes they have a big unexpected bite. I didn’t really bother to chop anything up much because Bruce’s magical green drink blender was going to do all the hard work.

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the finished product: a big jar of salsa verde in mere seconds!

If you make it, grab some tortilla chips and a bunch of friends and plow through it—this is good stuff. We also like it as a sauce on white fish (excellent on cod for example). It’s good on eggs, tacos, grilled meat, perhaps you’ll want to try it on some  veggies or as a quick alternative potato salad dressing. I made it last weekend and  we still have about 1/2 jar left but I bet it’s gone by Sunday. Let me know if you try making it. My next version will be roasting the tomatillos first because I like the smoky char taste.

Today’s gratuitous dog photo of the day is our 4th of July boy George:

George and his trout

George and his trout (there may also be a tennis ball in his mouth)

 

* Despite my love of fireworks, they’re not allowed at the Mortroski Midcentury. Our sweet Georgie is ours as a result of a fireworks accident. Read more about his story here and here. Please keep your 4-legged pals safely inside tonight if you’re located in the U.S.of A.