old sweater gifts

Last spring I collected and cut up more than a dozen sweaters to make a patchwork sweater blanket. This month I gathered up the remaining scraps and, voila, teacher gifts! Between my two sons, we had 15 - oh, yes, 15! - teachers and therapists to show some Christmas love. And we had zero dollars to spend.


Almost all of our gifts were sweater coffee cozies. I used a fancy stitch on my grandma's wonderful Bernina and guesstimated how to creatively sew some scraps together to fit a to-go cup. Each then got a button or two. If spending had been an option, we would have tossed a coffee shop gift card in the cup. Instead, we got creative and mixed up our favorite cocoa, bagged an individual serving and attached the recipe and a little candy cane.


For Liam's wonderful, special teacher (who he has blessedly been with for two years), I made fingerless gloves from the sleeves of a beautiful white sweater. She has a lot of style and loves stores like Ruche and Anthropologie, so the mismatched buttons were the perfect finishing touch.

I see a lot of sweater scrap sewing in my future. Maybe even an Etsy store. Stay tuned!

trash to treasure

Friday night I spent five hours around beautiful, creative people and a whole room of handmade items that were dreamed up in the mind of their makers and fashioned out of old, found stuff. In other words, upcycled, useable and wearable art. I was giddy the entire time. I made half a dozen recycled jean skirts for the event and a bunch of coffee cozies made from the left-over denim and other vintage fabrics and buttons.


One of the first people in the door bought a jean skirt, which was a thrill. But the real fun was all the dreaming I did that night. Of making fingerless gloves from the sleeves of old sweaters, sweet ornaments from fabric scraps and strands of discarded fake pearls, and beautiful gift bags from leftover white house paint, salvaged ribbon and empty cereal boxes. Nothing new but the ideas.


My friend Liita can do the most incredible things with garbage. Things you would be pleased to own. Things people would want to receive. Things that look like they cost big bucks at Anthropologie (like her necklace - the type that costs $130 at Anthro). Real-life trash to treasure. It costs nothing to make these amazing things but a little time and creativity.

Not only does this kind of "making" help conserve resources and feed the creative soul, it breeds bigger ideas about ways to be kind to the planet, to ourselves and to one another. The sales at this gallery night raised enough money to buy two sewing machines for an outreach program Liita and her business partner Rose are putting into place at the Ronald McDonald Children's Hospital. They are sharing this creative, restorative kind of craft with terminally ill children and their parents, giving them the tools to pour their hearts into making something beautiful out of something that - on the surface - is not. It's transformative. It's rewarding. It's life giving.

I'm really not exaggerating. Before you toss that old sweater, take a second look. Hat, gloves, blanket, garland, stocking...there are so many things it could be. Spend an afternoon at the Little Bits Workshop and be inspired. Be giddy. Be Anthropologie.

Only 12 upcycling days til Christmas.

trashcraft for earth day

Today we heeded the advice of my friend Liita and spent Earth Day upcycling our garbage. I salvaged the cereal and cracker boxes headed for recycling and unearthed the big pile of Ranger Rick magazines I scored through Freecycle last year. With a little Mod Podge and a pair of scissors, I transformed an empty box of O's into a very cool-looking "under the sea" gift box.


Martha Stewart posted a similar idea today, with cereal box organizers. These could be Mod Podged, too - using pretty papers, wallpaper samples, magazine cuttings, whatever. Once you get going with this kind of thing, the possibilities - like the garbage - are endless.

Liam wasn't interested in following my lead (what a surprise) and decided to create his own craft. He wrapped one box in construction paper with about 30 feet of gift wrap tape. Not sure how earth friendly that was. Then he fashioned a set of "3D binoculars" by cutting the ends off a cracker box and attaching a loop of yarn at one end and plastic wrap at the other. With a marker he colored one half of the plastic wrap red and the other blue - 3D-glasses style. (All 100% his creation. I was so engrossed in my cereal box, I didn't even pay attention to what he was doing.) The way he wore those binocular around his neck all day, stopping every few feet to investigate a tree or a pile of dirt, you'd have thought he'd just uncovered the world's greatest invention.


There's nothing better than making something fun and useful out of nothing, especially when the nothing is trash. We're already making plans for the oatmeal and the Shredded Wheat boxes. Pretty soon every day will be Earth Day around here. Better late than never, I guess. Thank you, Liita.

food rules

One of the best take-aways this past weekend was my grandma's recipe box. Because it is such a treasure, I will be scanning all of her handwritten recipes and making a book for all of my cousins, siblings and aunts and uncles. It's only fair, since many of her recipes, like brunswick stew, tijiana torte and shredded wheat bars, are legendary in my family. It wasn't that my grandma was a gourmet cook, but she was a comfort cook, and a healthy one. And she made healthy delicious.

Yesterday I read Michael Pollan's newest book, Food Rules. It's an easy 30 minute read, as it's just 65 brief rules, or policies, on eating. Other than drinking a glass of wine with dinner, I'd say my grandma followed them all. For a frugal, sugar-loathing farm girl who was eco-saavy long before the term was coined, this woman, with her arsenal of wholesome favorites and fridge full of leafy greens, was ahead of her time.

Eat what grows as a plant and not what's made in a plant. Check. Stay away from refined flour. Check. Don't eat anything with ingredients your great-grandmother couldn't identify. Check. Only eat at a table. Check.

As I read this excellent little book that I believe every American should read - and take to heart - I thought about how incredibly healthy and vital my grandma always was, and how she cooked and ate. As Pollan simply says: Eat food. Mostly plants. Not too much. That was my grandma's diet and way of feeding her family in a nutshell.

I think it's time to get back to that simple, whole foods diet. Considering the general state of health in America today, I'd say it's long overdue.

Read the book. Then go look for your grandma's recipe box - when dinner wasn't prepared in a factory, encased in plastic or served out of a window. You know, the good old days. It''s not too late to get them back.

back to basics :: small change number two

Last month I wrote that I (and, by default "we") was (were) going to participate in a movement to make one small change a month in order to try to be more earth friendly. Our January effort to cut back on the flow of paper into our house was a bigger task than I ever imagined. It is astonishing how much printed material goes straight from the mailbox and the curb into the recycle bin. Over and over again.

Here the change: Now every time I receive something I could care less about (which, for me, is nearly every catalog, flyer and circular that comes in the door), I login to Catalog Choice (thank you, Ann!) and get myself off that mailing list. Or, as a last resort, I find a number to call. So far I'm doing it. Not sure yet if it's working. But it feels like more of a conscious effort.

This month I again decided to tackle one small change that would reduce our environmental footprint in some miniscule way as well as help me with my effort to simplify. And I chose... no pre-packaged convenience foods. In other words, make all meals from scratch.

Okay, this probably sounds like the opposite of simple, but in my view, "simplify" ultimately means to pare down, to de-clutter and to get back to basics. Taking simple, wholesome ingredients and making good, easy meals fits into this picture. Plus, the amount of trash that piles up when we eat mostly meals pre-packaged vs. the amount of trash that's left after cooking a meal from scratch is huge. I would love to know how often my grandparents filled a 30 gallon garbage can when feeding six kids three meals a day. It is frankly embarrassing how much trash and recycling is generated by our little family of four on a weekly basis. I am guessing we generate at least three times as much garbage as they did.

The other added bonus of our new way of eating is that we save money. Not surprising, I know. But, still, for someone who has had a habit of running to the store every other day to "pick up some stuff for dinner," getting back to basics in the kitchen is a relief in more ways than one.

Our twice monthly organic fruit and vegetable delivery from Timber Creek Farms helps keep veggies at the forefront of all our meals, and is yet another way to keep the packaging waste to a minimum. If you live within 100 miles of Chicago you MUST check this out.

Anyway, here's what we're eating for dinner:

:: Big baked potatoes with toppings (for the Brit: baked beans, for Liam: loads of fresh parmesan, for me: broccoli and cheese)
:: Crustless quiche any and every way (here is how I make it)
:: Black Bean Burgers (Liam practically made these alone - five stars!)
:: Mediterranean Soup and any other good homemade soups I can convince my dear husband equals dinner (bread helps)
:: Gingery Chickpea & Tomato Stew (five stars!)
:: Spaghetti, sometimes with bolognese sauce
:: Beet risotto or other types depending on what came in the vegetable delivery
:: Lots of variations on our favorite penne, greens and beans

And, of course, bread and bread, and cookies and cookies.

I plan to make pizza soon. Although I imagine that is one area where we'll cave. Not sure I could ever match Home Run Inn.

Any other ideas?

one small change

Recently I came across this post from a mindful mama, challenging others in the blogging world to make one small change a month over the next five months that could contribute to creating a greener world. I like to think of it as more conscious stewardship. And, in this year of "simplify," a conscious step toward more simple living. Needless to say, I have decided to participate.

Last night I mentioned the challenge to Andrew and he suggested I staunch the flow of paper into our house. Cancel the Sunday paper. Call stores to stop the catalogs. Figure out how to get off junk mailing lists.

I was hoping for something easier, like compost more regularly or only use cloth napkins (which we pretty much do already). But my husband is right. Paper is our biggest challenge. It clutters our counters, demands our attention, makes us long for things we don't need and can't afford, and creates way too much unnecessary waste.

We are just one little family, but if we can cut out a couple bins of paper waste every year, that would be a very big small change - for the world and for our sanity. We're going for it.

rethinking the baggie

Beginning our first year of school, and just a half day at that, I am already pondering what our cumulative plastic bag consumption will be by graduation. Yikees! And we just bring a snack.

My neighbor and I talked about the crazy ways we are trying not to send any containers that will end up in the trash (like the glass spice bottle I put blueberries in today) and yet not go out and spend money on the fancy reusable wraps and bags. I guess we are those weird moms. But, after hearing from more than one reliable source about the mass of plastic floating in the middle of the ocean - maybe twice the size of Texas, they say - I definitely hesitate to think of adding to it.

So, here's a snack bag that I fashioned - with thanks to my neighbor's idea to cut up the waterproof ski gaiters she had packed away. The velcro was already in place, which made them easy to sew. I plan to send Liam to school with apple slices in one tomorrow. Not sure if it will be cool or odd. But I'm sure he'll let me know. Any other ideas from lunch and snack packers who avoid baggies - and whose kids are hailed as rock stars for toting reusable wares - would be appreciated!

the best homemade granola bars

High fructose corn syrup drives me nuts. It's everywhere, and I won't buy it. Partly now it's on principle and partly it's because I know too much, like how overproduction of corn ruins our farmland, how disturbingly oversweetened our kids are and how cheap foods - which all contain this culprit - are making the poorest in this nation fatter. However, my five year old dissolves into a heap of tears nearly every time we visit the grocery store and I read the ingredient list on a package he is just dying to bring home and declare, "Nope. We can't eat this." Thanks goodness for Trader Joe's.

Even still, the packaging and the pricing are usually a little much, and the product is just so-so. I am convinced there are better alternatives. And when it comes to the granola bar, I am right. After lots of experiments, we have come up with the ultimate recipe. No high fructose corn syrup. No packaging. And because of the sheer number of "bars" we can make, it's a bargain.

There are lots of ways to vary this recipe. Add peanut butter or nuts. Add sunflower seeds. Replace the flour with soy flour if you have an issue with gluten. Substitute quick oats for some of the old fashioned oats to make the bars more cake like. Or dream up additions and substitutions of your own. But maybe try this one to get started. It's really, really good.

Homemade Granola Bars
2/3 cup softened butter
1/3 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup honey
1 cup flour
1 t. baking soda
1 t. vanilla
4 1/2 cup old fashioned oats
1 cup sweetened coconut
2-3 T ground flax seed
1/2 cup dried cranberries, raisins or cherries
1 cup mini chocolate chips

Mix ingredients together. Press into a lightly greased 9 x 13 pan. Bake at 325 for 20 minutes. Cool completely before cutting.

making new things from old

I'm beginning to discover that I am not a pattern follower. Detailed instructions both frighten and frustrate me. I prefer to wing it. Hence, the reconstructed, vintage pillowcase apron I made as part of my sister's shower gift. I basically cut off the sewn end of a salvaged pillowcase, made a waistband with ties from a fabric remnant I had stashed and embellished. Amazing what a little rickrack can do.


This cute fabric was a maternity beach cover up from which I cut a rectangle, sewed up the side and added an elastic waist to make a skirt for my niece. Then I used a scrap of the material to make a flower for a thrifted polo shirt.


I have wanted to try making this fabric ranunculus since I saw the instructions posted. It was really easy to do and made the outfit extra sweet.

If I had the time, I swear I would re-make something every day. Maybe it's the pleasure of making it up or maybe it's the satisfaction of recycling something that would end up in the trash or the rummage sale. Or maybe it's the joy of constructing something unique for someone special. I can't imagine much I'd rather do.

{Speaking of reconstructing things, be sure to check out this Etsy shop that my friend Alysa turned me onto. A couple of women at a homeless shelter in Chicago are working on donated sewing machines, creating one-of-a-kind bags from old jeans. How cool is that? Alysa has an awesome heart and has been helping these women out by passing on a bunch of beautiful fabric that was given to her and by spreading the word about their craft. You can read the inspiring story here.}

making our bed

So, we have these worms living in our basement. They eat our garbage and make us dirt. It sounds a little weird, maybe even kind of gross, if you feel that way about worms. But, truly, it's pretty incredible. For about 8 months (longer than is recommended) we fed our red wigglers carrot tops, banana peels, apple cores and egg shells and, in return, they (in Liam's words) pooped us out about ten gallons of rich, nourishing dirt.


We probably didn't follow the best technique for sifting the worms from the dirt, as it took a very long time. We're definitely going to look into that for the next go around. Speaking of which, these worms are big time reproducers. We have enough red wigglers now for another 20 gallon bin that will need a home. Any takers?


The best part about keeping dirt-making worms is getting to use said dirt to fertilize our own little veggie garden. Memorial Day weekend we built and planted a raised bed.


Every time I plant a seed it seems absolutely impossible that anything would sprout from it. Now that Liam's involved, it feels like a little more is at stake. I am hoping at least one veggie will grow. The worm dirt should insure at least that. If nothing else, we have some awfully cute little markers.

green market

We've been anticipating this day for weeks - the first day of the Geneva Green Market. Especially the berries.


And the fun things for kids, like roosters.


And drawing roosters.


But the biggest development this season is that we're taking two bikes instead of one.


Elliott very happily rides with me.


And Liam rides all by himself. More than three miles round trip. Along the river trail. His proud mama smiling right behind him.

beyond green

Today was the final day of our semi-annual church rummage sale and I spent a few hours helping out. As I folded heaps of clothes, I pulled along a shopping bag, sticking in an occasional find. Days before I had helped with the sorting and had sneaked in my pre-sale shopping, proud of the incredible bargains and the fact that I was reusing rather than buying something new. I was feeling like an all-around resourceful and resource-saving gal.

While I worked today, I noticed a shopper hauling her finds - baskets and garbage bags full of clothes and shoes - to a corner of a room where she began the long and tedious task of folding and rolling each individual item so she could fit as much as possible into brown grocery bags. Today you could fill a bag with anything that was left for a flat $5. She was smartly trying to stretch her dime as much as possible.

Throughout the morning I kept peeking at the bag lady, checking her progress and trying to guess what she might be doing with all the clothes. I figured she must own a resale store or somehow plan to turn a profit. She clearly had done this before.

When the woman was finished packing her bags - nearly an hour after the sale had ended - a worker graciously brought over a cart and helped her load up the eleven bags. After she left, I asked a woman who had worked the rummage sale longer than I if she knew anything about the lady who was buying all the clothes and shoes.

"Oh, she's been doing that for years," she said. "I don't remember the exact story, but she sends most everything to Europe - to Poland and the countries in the former Soviet Union - where clothes are incredibly hard to come by."

As I stood packing up boxes with unsold items, my eyes welled up with tears. Stretching my dollar, being environmental with my purchases, even giving my time for a good cause (while working in an opportunity to scan the dirt cheap merchandise for the last good buys) was really still all about me. And here was a woman giving her time and energy and money to do all this same kind of good . . . for someone else.

Tonight as Liam and I did our new bedtime ritual, asking each other the questions, "What are you most thankful for today?" and "What are you least thankful for today?," I remembered the bag lady. I thank God for her because she reminded me of how much more good there is to do, and that giving of yourself (not so you can pat yourself on the back and say, "look how good I am," but really giving of yourself) blesses not only the people who receive the gift but also the people who stand back and watch.

food for thought

Tomorrow night The Green Mama is speaking at our women's spring potluck. As an organizer for the event, I have been culling "green tips" to litter the tables. Here are a few I've copied down with a little fear and trembling:

:: For every one garbage can you put out at the curb, 70 cans were filled by all the processes needed in order to make it.

:: 10 chemicals are banned from cosmetics in the U.S.; 1,100 chemicals are banned from cosmetics in Europe.

:: Average daily water use in America is 80 gallons; the rest of the world averages just 2.5 gallons.

:: A single quart of oil that seeps into the ground can pollute 250,000 gallons of drinking water.

:: The U.S. exports 1.1 million tons of potatoes annually and imports 1.4 million tons. (Can we say giant waste of oil???)

:: A mass of plastic garbage at least the size of Texas floats in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. (Thanks, Tracey, for that horrifying fact.)

:: If every citizen ate just one meal a week of all local, organic foods, U.S. oil consumption would decrease by 1.1 billion barrels weekly!

:: In the U.S., children ages 6 to 11 spend an average of 30 hours a week looking at a TV or computer monitor.

So, what's the moral of this ugly eco-story? Buy local. Read labels. Consume less. Say no to plastic. Don't let the water run. Recycle, recycle, recycle. And, by all means, send your kids outside.

making due

I love cooking. Not so much the preparation or the process or the cleanup. I love the results. I have never been a fan of prepackaged or processed. I am deeply suspicious of any product that contains more than five ingredients or that includes "foodstuffs" I cannot pronounce, much less identify. Plus, homemade just tastes better. So much better.

I used to think that made from scratch also meant made for less. But often I happen upon a recipe that sounds like the perfect dinner but I lack an essential ingredient or two. For a while I'd been making a grocery run nearly every day. That wouldn't be so bad if I didn't leave the store with the two items I needed for the dish and ten other items that were on sale/could really use/looked fun to try/would be a good snack for the drive home. The biggest problem with this way of shopping and cooking is that other perfectly good items, with plenty of recipe potential, slowly go bad on the countertop or in the veggie drawer.

This week - in honor of Earth Day and in response to limited cash flow - I am trying an experiment to make due with what we have and see what kind of creative dishes I can pull out of our fridge and cabinets without running to the store every other day. Yesterday, I noticed three bananas well past their prime (can we say, rotting) on the counter and quickly searched my favorite cooking site for a quick and easy transformation. Smitten Kitchen's Jacked-Up Banana Bread looked like the perfect afternoon snack and, lucky me, I had all the ingredients (although I substituted dark rum that I bought seven years ago for a rum cake for the bourbon). I gave myself an extra pat on the back for making use of that obscure ingredient taking up space in my cabinet (albeit just a tablespoonful). Hands down this was the best banana bread I have ever put into my mouth, and the smell was enough to drive the neighbors half insane with jealously that they didn't have rotting bananas on their counters, too.

The other had-all-the-ingredients recipe I made that is worth noting is carrot soup. I know, ugh. Who eats carrot soup and likes it? Well, we do. This is a recipe that has been passed around my extended family and I have no idea where it originated. It is chock full of powerful nutrients, kind to the pocketbook, surprisingly easy and unusually delicious. It's one of those dishes that doesn't look like anything special but you just can't stop eating it. And, chances are you have all the ingredients in your kitchen right now.

Carrot Soup

2 T oil
1 1/2 lbs sliced carrots
1 large onion, chopped
1 1/2 c. diced potatoes (peel if they are russet)
1 clove garlic, sliced
4 whole cloves
1/2 t. sugar
1/4 t. ground pepper
4 c. chicken or veggie broth

Heat oil in a big pot and add all the veggies. Stir often for 8-10 minutes. Add cloves, sugar and pepper and stir another minute. Add broth. Bring to boil; then reduce and simmer 20 minutes. Very important: Remove and discard cloves.* Use an immersion blender to puree 3/4 of the soup. Serve with dollop of sour cream.

*Once I forgot to remove the cloves and they were pureed. Not good. Carrot soup became clove soup. It did not go over well. Definitely remove the cloves!

::
One quick note about grocery shopping. I detest it. If I spend too long in a big box store, I start to get queazy, hyperventilate, that sort of thing. Because I have long been on the search for the perfect food store - one with a pleasant environment, not too large, natural lighting, bargain pricing - I have been to nearly all of them. Here's what I discovered if you're looking for the best deals on any of the items above:

:: rotting bananas :: Meijer sells them for next to nothing. So if you are craving that jacked-up banana bread right now and you have no bananas, run to Meijer. Just go straight for the rotting-produce cart and then straight for the register or you might end up with a cart full of groceries rather than what you came in for - a pile of speckled bananas for 20 cents.

:: butter and eggs :: Costco reigns here. A dozen and a half of organic, free-range eggs costs less than just a dozen of the same in any other store. Butter, too. I freeze the extra boxes and they thaw perfectly fine.

:: produce :: An overwhelming store for a capitalism wimp, Caputos does have great produce at great prices. I won't give up my organic vegetable delivery - also a bargain - but in a pinch, I know where to find my onions and berries.

:: broth :: I used to buy the quart-size boxes of broth that you can find at just about any food store these days, but I hated to do it because the boxes aren't recyclable where I live and what a lot of waste for four measly cups of broth. Then Trader Joes introduced little tiny packets of condensed broth that, when added to boiling water, each make a cup of broth. For the price of a one-quart box of prepared broth (equal to 4 cups of broth) you can get one box of 12 packets (equal to 12 cups of broth). Much less waste, much less expensive, much more sense.

escar-what?

Never cooked with escarole? Me neither. But today our organic vegetable delivery included a huge head of it, and rather than let it wilt in the vegetable drawer (as I am sure I have done before), I decided to find something to do with it asap. Lucky me. The box included a recipe (attributed to Italian cooking goddess Giada de Laurentis) for Escarole and Bean Soup.

I'll just cut to the chase. I made the recipe and it was super easy, super fast, and super awesome. Absolutely delicious. (Two of us nearly ate the entire pot full.) Who would have thought this bitter, waxy green would cook up so tender and flavorful?

If you're one of those who have never cooked with escarole, try this. It may become your favorite soup recipe ever. Of course, if you don't like it, please call me. I'll come right over.

Escarole and Bean Soup

2 T olive oil
2 cloves of garlic, chopped
1 head of escarole, chopped
4 cups chicken broth
1 (1-ounce) chunk of parmesan
1 can white beans, rinced and drained
salt

Heat olive oil in large, heavy pot. Add garlic and saute about 15 seconds until fragrant. Add escarole and cook until wilted. Add broth, beans, parmesan (as a chunk - I think that's part of the yummy secret) and a pinch of salt. Simmer about 5 minutes. Enjoy!

favorite things :: homemade applesauce and worms

For as long as I can remember, my grandma Gaye has made the world's best applesauce. For many years during apple season, she and my grandpa would churn apples by the bushel, packing their freezer and many of their kids' freezers with gallons of homemade applesauce. Even today when I pop in to see my grandma, she is ready to greet us with a dish of freshly made sauce.

I am proud to say that for the past decade, when apple season rolls around, I happily churn out sauce of my own. (Usually by the half peck, not the bushel!)

I use my grandma's not-so-secret recipe - just plain old apples: core, skin and all. I have never seen a recipe like this in any cookbook or magazine. Most saucing recipes require coring and peeling. But I swear this is what leaves other sauces lacking - in taste and nutrition. My grandma's process takes a bit of elbow grease (as my many cousins who have processed bushels with her will attest) but it is totally worth the effort. Here's what you do:

1. Wash and half about 8-10 apples. Cortland are my favorite. Jonathan are also good. Any apple that cooks up soft will work but you want one with good flavor.

2. Cut out top and bottom part of the stem of each half and put the apples in a big pot. Cover with about 1/4 inch of water (enough to just cover the bottom of the pan), put on the lid and simmer over medium-low heat on the stovetop.

3. After about half hour or less, the apples will be mushy. Turn off the heat. According to my grandma, the nutrients escape in the steam, so don't lift the lid of the pot until it's cooled (if you can help it). The scent is SO incredible, it's hard to resist.

4. When cool, scoop about 1/3 of the apples into a sieve (like the one shown below, which you can usually find at a local hardware store) and mash/churn/press the apples through the sieve with the wooden stick thing (also shown below). Use a rubber spatula to scoop the skins and seeds out of the sieve and process the rest of the apples (using everything that's in the pan).

Although so little of the apple is wasted in the end, it is still kind of hard to toss the mash of skin and seeds. It's so deliciously fragrant and when you've effectively sauced the rest of the apples so well, well, you hate to see anything go.

This week, for the first time, our apple skins and seeds were eaten! Not by us but by our worms. Thanks to my friend Megan, we have started worm composting in the basement. Every week we feed our worms our fruit and vegetable scraps and in a couple months they will reward us with "black gold" - the most nutrient-rich soil possible. Liam loves to feed the worms and even I find it pretty incredible to see how they plow through our garbage so quickly, leaving all the dark, fertile castings behind. I imagine they must have thought they had died and gone to heaven when we buried that sweet apple mash for them last night.

Once we plant an apple tree in our backyard, our cycle of life will be complete. On my dream farm, I definitely will do this. In the meantime, I just thank God I was blessed enough to learn from a farmgirl. Thanks, Gaye.

green

Although the temperature was bone-chilling for mid-Spring, you wouldn't know it from the window. Wet and overcast, the earth was practically glowing today, that electric lime green that looks so alive and new, it's practically humming. I love that green. Every year I've lived in Chicago, I've had a slight apprehension that maybe this year it'll happen, maybe the landscape won't ripen again. Maybe winter really did us in. And every year I am a little surprised that by late April the neighborhood is blanketed in a lush and vibrant green, that dead-looking limbs have come back to life with their tender baby leaflets and sweet-smelling flowers, that the earth is actually awake.

This afternoon Elliott and I watched two bright yellow finches at the feeder for nearly ten minutes straight. Elliott is the hugest animal lover and has an amazingly long attention span for a one year old. He doesn't crawl or stand or walk yet but, boy, can he observe (and shriek and smile!). With the finches, he was captivated. And who could blame him. That radiant yellow against the shimmering green was breathtaking.

Michael Pollan recently wrote an editorial on the revolutionary act of gardening, which is not only a way to further "green" the earth but a way to re-engage with all living things. As Pollan writes (oh, so much more eloquently than I):

"The idea is to find one thing to do in your life that doesn't involve spending or voting, that may or may not virally rock the world but is real and particular (as well as symbolic) and that, come what may, will offer its own rewards. Maybe you decide to give up meat, an act that would reduce your carbon footprint by as much as a quarter. Or you could try this: determine to observe the Sabbath. For one day a week, abstain completely from economic activity: no shopping, no driving, no electronics.

But the act I want to talk about is growing some — even just a little — of your own food. Rip out your lawn, if you have one, and if you don't — if you live in a high-rise, or have a yard shrouded in shade — look into getting a plot in a community garden. Measured against the Problem We Face, planting a garden sounds pretty benign, I know, but in fact it's one of the most powerful things an individual can do — to reduce your carbon footprint, sure, but more important, to reduce your sense of dependence and dividedness: to change the cheap-energy mind."

Adding green to green. What could be more lovely and life-enhancing than that? Tomorrow it will be cold again, but Elliott and I will still be at the window. This time (in addition to looking for neighborhood wildlife) we'll be plotting the best way to plant our own little vegetable garden and make our yard even greener.