These days I mostly try not to write. My life is so full of work and family and weeding. But every now and then, my brain starts to itch and the only way to scratch that itch is writing. This is where you will find my most recent scratchings.
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A Three Legged Stool with a Lot of Buts
Writing is weird. You know how when you wake up from an intense dream, and you are trying to relate it to someone, you find the dream itself changing as you put it into words? Because dreams and words just don’t really fit together. Sometimes writing is like that. You can’t just sit down and let it all hang out. Even if it were possible to commit the true working of my mind to words, no one would want to read it. Too messy. One thing I’ve really always hated about writing is that you are not supposed to contradict…
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Shouting Down the Rabbit Hole
Ever read the awesome book A Hole is to Dig, by Maurice Sendak and someone else I can’t remember? It’s got a great line, “A baby makes the mother and father, otherwise they’re just plain people.” Well, I was thinking, readers make the blog, otherwise it’s just me shouting down the rabbit hole again. So, thanks for reading. Thanks especially to everyone who commented, those comments mean more than you’d guess. Most importantly, thanks for inspiring me to commit the time to such heavy duty introspection, when I could easily just get swallowed up by folding the laundry pile. Although…
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Submission
My one year anniversary for this blog came and went sometime in September. Looking over Apron Strings with a critical eye, I noticed my sidebar explanation is a bit… overzealous. Written from the vantage point of only one kid. Whilst I aspire to having my daily life be divided among ”digging dirt, tending vegetables, dumpster diving, punk sewing projects, making all our own bread, household fix-its, and salvage construction” I seem to be mainly (and occasionally entirely) overtaken by just the “raising up little ruffians.” As I mulled over the feeling of shortcoming, I had an epiphany. We neo-feminist punk…
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Righteous Mama Glow
Last night was a big night for me. After listening to Ani DiFranco‘s music for over fifteen years last night I got to see her in concert for the first time. Not just any concert, mind you. A small venue, as in– just a big room with a stage in one corner. And on it, just Ani with a guitar. No band, no distractions, fifteen feet away with only three heads between me and Ani DiFranco. I was giddy. When I first walked in, I looked around in disbelief at the size of the room, and the small number of…
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Dairy, Dairy, Everywherey
My fridge is full of such a variety of dairy experiments, I’m thinking of opening a store. I have homemade buttermilk, kefir, yogurt, yogurt cheese, sour cream, two failed batches of mozzerella which turned out like a rubbery queso fresco, an accidental raspberry ricotta-type weirdness, and the resultant whey from all these various products, some of which is being turned into whey buttermilk. Because hey, whey not? Oh, I forgot the sweet whey (leftover from the mozzerella) which I tried mixing half and half with regular milk, because it was so tasty and milky it seemed perfectly drinkable, but of…
calamity jane 