Hello all!

Recently, I have been reading Barbara Kingsolver's book, "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" for my Urban Farming class.  In this book, she writes with her daughter and partner, the importance of eating local, and natural, by way of pledging to do this for a whole year.  this book tells of her and her family's learned lessons on health, globalization, the food crisis, farming, gardening, and lots and lots of corn products.,yuck. Anywho, camille, her daughter, periodically gives recipes for each season in which you can incorporate seasonal food that you can buy from local stores and farmers markets.  You can access an extended list on their website, ( www.AnimalVegetableMiracle.com).  Here are some fun summer ecipes for the upcoming months.

Zucchini Chocolate Chip Cookies

1 egg, beaten
1/2 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/3 cup honey
1 tablespoon Vanilla extract
    Combine in a large bowl
1 cup white flour
1 cup whole wheat flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
    Combine in separate bowl, and blend in liquid mixture
1 cup finely grated zucchini
12 ounces of chocolate chips
    Stir these into the other ingridients and mix well.  Drop by spoonful onto greased baking sheet, and flatten with the back of a spoon. Bake at 350 for 10 to 15 minutes.

Cherry Sorbet

2 heaping cups of pitted cherries
3/4 cup of sugar
2/3 cup of water
    While one person pits the cherries, another can combine sugar and water in a saucepan over low heat.  Stir until the suagr has dissolved completely (syrup will be lcear at this point) and allow the mixture to cool.  When cherries are pitted, combine them with the syrup in a blender.  Blend on low until smooth, then refrigerate the mixture until you are ready to pour into an ice cream maker. 

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life (P.S.)

Barbara Kingsolver

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Currently I am in a Introductory Fibers class at school called "Off Loom Textiles". So essentially, we learn the basics of every off-loom fiber skill.  We began with spinning and the creation of yarn itself.  This technique is made up of many components.

a. washing the nasty piece of animal product called the fleece.  Full of lanolin, this fiber never ceases to be greasy. Thus, the name "greasy fleece".  In my opinion, greasy is a gross understatement.  Keyword gross. Anyhow, after a painstaking process of washing, drying, rinsing, washing, rise, wash, fhdusghuhgfsgshi.....you have a relatively clean piece of fleece.  From this point, you can either choose to dye it any color of the rainbow, or go straight to the combs, which are medeival-esque brushes (kind of like something a viking would use for a comb). 

b. Whist brushing the fleece with smooth strokes of the combs, the friction causes the fleece to become a nice smooth piece of wool. Now, on to the spinning wheel.

c.  Now there are 2 options when spinning.  There is the traditional spinning wheel (So Sleeping Beauty omg), or the hand spinning dowel like structure.  Both difficult, but equally as fun.  Kara Williams and I decided we would try our hand at spinning first on the hand spinner.  We developed a soccer kick move that would alleviate the need for control with the hand, leaving both hands free to feed in the yarn.

Since that attempt was quite unsuccessful, and I needed a whole ball of yarn spun by Tuesday...I decided to spend my Friday afternoon spinning on the wheel. It was actually quite the experience. Once i got past the initial frustration of getting the wool attached to the starter string, I realized that the consistent push and pull of the wheel, and the perfect tension of the yarn allowed me to drift and focus in on the art itself.  It really does change your perspective when buying yarn, whether its acrylic or not.  No matter what the material, machine made or not, fibers as a whole used to make a garment, take time, energy, and demand a deep concentration from the creator, the artist.  I will definitely think before I complain about how much I just spent on a well made __________.

But, where does all of this wool come from?  Well as the saying with money goes, wool does indeed not grow on trees.  It actually grows on sheep.  The idea of sheep shearing fascinates me.  To shave a sheep and eventually turn that into a ball of yarn is a process that only God could have come up with.  My boyfriend Connor says he wants to own sheep someday so we can make yarn.  I think that idea is a wonderful one, but once I went to the sheep farm I realized that it is quite the process.  We traveled to Fox Hollow Fibers, a small farm and fiber shop off of Fox Hollow rd here in Eugene.  A charming woman greeted us at the gate and showed us around her farm.  It was 8am on a windy, rainy day, and I had not yet had my morning sip of liquid gold.  But once I saw the barn against a backdrop of rolling green hills reminiscent of those in an Ireland picture book, I was instantly awakened.  The had a great yellow lab, and the sheep actually do "Baaa" like we learn and repeat over and over when we're little.  She took us to her studio and explained that she has wool made from alpaca, sheep, and...buffalo?  Yes, it seems that she has some friends who follow the dead beast to the butcher, and take the skin and fur right from him.  I can't imagine any other way, especially when I picture someone running after a buffalo with shears. Its actually very soft, and makes a nice buffalo-wool blend.In the cold barn, she showed us every step of the shearing process, and as i looked at her husbands steaming cup of coffee, I thought how wonderful it is to have a trade like this.  I really do think that God gave us certain skills and talents to bless others and to give ourselves fulfillment, and it just amazes me how personal our God is.

That was my trip to the sheep farm, stay tuned for more fabulous fiber updates.

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This is what's been brewing in the pot of my cranium lately..its real fresh and robust.

- That with a desire comes practice. And perserverance. And drive. I've always wanted to play an instrument or have a good voice. Now, I realize that these things in part, have to derive from some sort of natural talent, but really I sat there and thought of what it would take to become a great piano player. A lot of work, thats what.

- What would it be like to be grateful and give thanks for every circumstance in your life? I'm reading a book right now called "Ruthless Trust" by Brennan Manning, and it has become one of those books that desires to be marked up, torn, high lighted, purely becaue its content resembles that of a hearty sandwich- fulfillng and more and more satisfying with every bite.  In it, I found a quote that I rather enjoyed.

"The grateful heart cries out in the morning "Lord, thank you for a new day". And it continues to express its gratitude as the blessings unfold. Thank you for the gift of love and being loved, for the beauty of the animals on the farm and in the forest, for the sound of the waterfall, and the darting beauty of the trout in the brook.  For the rainbow after a summer storm, for a woman with windblown hair striding down the hillside, and for a steaming cup of hot coffee. 

- The fact that a middle aged woman from Minessota in a white pant suit could bring me so much joy, and give me secret aspirations of becoming similar..never to get out of course.

- That familes aren't perfect. And that in and of itself is a beautiful thing.

- High Wasted sailor pants have been making a slow and steady comeback, and I'm very excited.

- My new search is for a pair of patent leather pumps- mary-jane's with a peep toe. Bright color. Maybe even tomato red????????

- Dancing is a rich tree of hapiness in which everyone can taste the fruits.

- The term :"the trots" is one of the funniest and more versitile of verbs that I have enjoyed recently.

- learning the difference between head and heart.

- Confusion is one of the most moldable states one could be in.

- Hats aren't just for bad hair days.

This last weekend I was in the CCF (Collegiate christian Fellowship) Talent show, and Abby and I did "Coffee time with Pam and Gladys" a comedic skit. We channeled our inner Middle aged women, and came up with something that was pretty fun. Here are some pics:

Quite Fun! 

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"Mom"2007

"Dad" 2007.

"Seattle " 2007

"Smooth Operator" 2007.

"Magic" 2007

"Fairy" 2007 "Aubrey" 2007"Kyler" 2005"Maine" 2005"Home"2005 "I left my heart in Mexico".2005 CCF Communications Poster.2007"Empty" 2006. "Dance Party". 2006

"Tea Time" 2006. Collage, Oil. 2007

Ink. 2007
Photo, and collage recreation, 2007 Ink and Acrylic, 2007

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Hopping on bus 81 is an everyday occurence for me. It has become like clockwork- On the bus in the morning, show the driver my pass with the mug shot from hell, say a casual hello, pop in my headphones, and turn to greet my fellow riders with my eyes, as I ackwardly try and find a seat amongst the crowded faces. I usually go for the single seats, as they are the easiest to get out of when the bus stops. The double seats, are in my mind reserved for couples, friends, and the last resort seat when a bus is full. I find my seat towards the front, and begin to think about the day ahead as Thom Yorke softly croons in my ear. "What do I have to do today?" "Okay..did I put my bus pass in my back pocket for my return home?" (Lord knows I secretly wish I could lose it just to get a new picture). Check. The bus smells of pot and B.O, and occassionally, the scent of cheap stawberry body splash tickles my nose. The bus winds over the hill, the sunrise peeking its head through the windows to say hello to the expressionless riders, the riders too tired or stressed to pay attention. The bus pulls in the the college, and the automated greeting comes over the loud speaker. Like clockwork. "Lane Community College Station. Please Gather Your Belongings Before Leaving". "Por favor sus pertenencia antes de irse." I don't even speak Spanish. As I descend the steps and say goodbye to my driver, I enter my education for the day.
The idea of a community college is fascinating to me. A college for those in the community. It doesn't discriminate, ask questions of who you are or where you've been, it doesn't ask that you give it lots of money, or that you leave your kids at home. It doesn't look down upon you because you are young or old, disabled, illiterate, or challenged. It is a level playing field where all can step up to the plate and try to swing the bat.
I met a man in my basic design class named Steve. He was a scrawny man with white tennis shoes, ripped jeans, and a variety of Grateful Dead t shirts. His hair was gray and frazzled, and he wore black rimmed glasses. A guitar was his back's closest companion, and he liked to draw pictures of half naked women for his assignments. I'll never forget the look on my teachers face when he posted his collage project up for critique. I didn't know much about Steve, until one day we were presenting our projects, about telling a story. He didnt have a book, but rather his guitar, and he sang us a beautiful song about the blues. At that moment I realized that Steve had a very very beautiful heart admidst the nudie pictures and time spent in jail, and Christ thought so too. Christ loves us all to the core of our being, even beyond what we could ever know about ourselves He knows and loves Unconditionally. No matter what we've done He loves us. He can turn anything beautiful at anytime He wants. He even went so far as to turn the cross, something formally known as a tool of death and destructiuon, into a symbol of life and of hope and beauty and an awe inspiring love story.
My Grandma says that Lane isn't a real school. Maybe she's right, maybe I've been floating in a sea of imagination, marshmallow books, and gumdrop tests, cherry licorice pencils, and desks made of air... because if it's not real then I have the right to make it up, and I want it to be as wonderful as possible. But as I transfer now, and hop on the bus my last few times, I am so glad for Lane and for Christ, and for the gift of seeing a different side of people I have not seen.

I'm glad I've had the chance to float before I land.

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