It must be summer

I'm not sure when pickled eggs became a summertime treat for me.  I grew up in a household where red beet eggs were the norm.  At some point in my housekeeping career, though, I strayed off into the wild territory of your basic barroom pickled eggs.  I make them right around the summer solstice so that they're ready for July 4th and picnics.

You can eat them straight up, or you can make them into the best egg salad you'll ever have.  Extra points for making your egg salad sandwiches with homemade bread.

Picked Eggs

For the brine
2 cups cider vinegar
2 cups water
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp. salt
1 Tbsp. pickling spice

1 dozen hard cooked eggs, peeled  (I like to use medium eggs, which you may have to hunt for - the big grocery stores rarely carry them.)

Bring the vinegar and water to boil, then add the sugar and salt.  Simmer until the sugar dissolves, then add the pickling spice and simmer for a few minutes.  Let cool to room temperature.

Drop the eggs into a quart canning jar and pour the brine over.  Make sure the topmost layer of eggs is covered with the brine.  Put the lid on and tuck into a corner of the fridge for about a week.

Plan to eat them in a week or two - much longer than that and they get rather tough.

All Folded Up

It continues to be a mystery to me how the irises manage to fold all those petals up into such small buds.  I have a couple of ill-informed theories on how they do it, but I prefer the mystery, I think.

And then they open and have their own faux fuzzy caterpillars to keep them company.

Pelargonium baby pictures

A couple of years ago I decided it might be nice to have geraniums growing on a window sill during the winter.  Simply buying a couple of potted geraniums was entirely too easy, so I bought some seed.  And then I got distracted by other things.

Early this spring, when I was desperately looking for reasons to get out of the house and spend a little time in the potting shed, I came across the seed packet.  Two year old seed?  What the heck - why not give it a go!

After several month of careful tending, I've ended up with eight plants in four, four inch pots.  I was intrigued to see how early the leaf markings developed.  And they already have that geranium smell, the cunnin' little things.

 I notice now that one of my chickadee neighbors has thoughtfully planted a sunflower seed in one of the pots.

Spring in Name Only

I made myself a new shirt to celebrate Spring, and I wore it on the first day of Spring, and I was cold all day.  Heck, we had a frost last week.  Still turtleneck weather, I guess.

Accidental Portrait of a Lone Orange

Sometimes my iPad finds its own subjects.  I like this one of the cheerful orange against the calm wave-like grain of the wood bowl.  The bowl was made from a tree on my parents' property.

On the Edge of Transformation

This is one of my favorite moments in sewing: the place where one can take a deep breath before construction begins.

The pattern has been selected and altered.  The fabric has been purchased, washed, and ironed.  The layout recommended by the pattern company has been studied and possibly improved a little.  The box of pins has been accidentally dropped on the floor, sworn at, retrieved, and reloaded.  The contortions required to cut clean inside curves have been negotiated.

This stack of pieces begins to reveal the garment it will become.  After a cup of coffee, I'll cut the notches and thread-mark the dots, squares, and other landmarks.

And when the signs are auspicious, I'll start sewing.

 

When centuries collide

The passage of about 150 years means that the ratchet and pawl on one of my old looms are not always on speaking terms.  Thank goodness for Vise Grips (first patented in 1924.)

A good day is one on which the number of pairs of Vise Grips one owns is greater than or equal to the number of needs one has for them.

Today was a good day.