Captain’s log: It seems I have not written since December. You’re used to these delays at this point, aren’t you? Did you notice I entitled this ‘part one’? That’s hope right there. Hope there will be more.
I’m becoming a bit gardening obsessed. It’s happened gradually, each year more than the prior. I have a sunroom full of trays with tiny tomatoes, peppers, and flowers for the cut garden. Dahlia tubers are in a tub, crossing my fingers they wake up and are ready for another season. But here’s the big new adventure: ranunculus.
I happened upon the Costco display of bulbs, tubers, and corms and decided ranunculus would be a fun new thing to take my time and my money. They are darling flowers, adorable and squishy. (They literally say you should harvest the blooms when they squish like a marshmallow.) I bought a package. I’m gambling $13 on the 100 corms inside.
On the back of the package, it has the map with the suggested planting times. For Wisconsin, it lists April to June. After some further research, I worry the package is misleading me. In fact, I probably should have started them two weeks ago (if not longer) as ranunculus love spring weather. They begin to shut down when the temperature reaches the mid-70s. I may be too late.
OR the long cool springs we have at our house due to proximity to Lake Michigan may play to my advantage. All the same, we’re giving them a go. So last night, the process began.
I soaked the corms for 3.5 hours in room temperature water in my lovely green pyrex bowl. They really are other-worldly or deep-sea like. Weird looking for sure. Soaked, they then got stuck in a thin layer of soil and now will live in the garage (no natural light, mid-50s temperature ideal) for two weeks when they should (fingers and toes crossed) begin to grow roots and the beginning of a stem.
That’s all for now. We wait. Gardening adventure part one will be a learning process and perhaps one big giant fail. But instead of the worst that can happen, what’s the best? Squishy flowers. Let’s hope for that.
I’ve shared my routine with you before. I read books on my Kindle (checked out from my library via the Libby app) while I eat breakfast. It, quite honestly, is one of my favorite parts of the day. It helps me get out of bed; I look forward to it. I used to be a CRAZY reader who kind of died during college/seminary but I’m so glad she’s back.
Without further ado, here’s what I read and (mostly) loved in 2023:
Ruth Gallway novels by Elly Griffiths. I counted them up; I read EIGHT of these books in 2023. It’s no secret; I love a good series that guides me to what I should read next. Ruth is an archaeology professor in England who gets wrapped up in helping the local police force solve crimes. They’re a bit corny, easy reads but, oh dear, how I have come to love Ruth as a character. There are two books left in the series; they’re currently on my holds list with the library. I will cry when it’s over.
Veronica Speedwell Mysteries by Deanna Raybourn. I read the first two of these novels this year and again, love how it leads me to add the next one to my holds list. They’re fun reads.
Truth or Beard by Penny Reid. A silly little romance, corny and a bit ridiculous. (But I’ll still read the next one.)
Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros. I literally JUST finished this one tonight. I love fantasy/other-world novels. This one was a little, erm, graphic romantically which I could have done with a little less but, OF COURSE, it ended with a HUGE surprise and now I need to read the next one in the series like tomorrow (but will need to wait patiently until it’s my turn on Libby to check it out).
Ten years ago, I turned 30. (Maths.) I then conned my family into taking a train to downtown Chicago, meeting up with my birthday twin, cousin Connor, who was living in Chicago at the time. I remember shopping, the German Christmas market, and a joyous weekend to mark a new decade. I have very few photos except this one – a selection of us eating a pretzel at the market.
This year, this past Friday, I turned 40. So I conned my husband into taking the train to Chicago for a night. (Conned, not really. He was more than willing.) Since we moved to WI from MN, we live 20 minutes from an Amtrak train stop … and we haven’t gone once. It was time to take the hour long ride to Union Station.
But first, let’s start with Friday. The actual day. I took the day off of work so I could prep soup in the slow cooker, get groceries, and clean the house. No joke. I haven’t had a full day at home since probably, oh, early October; it felt like the best gift to give myself.
We took the 11:30 train on Saturday, grabbed some lunch in the food hall at Willis tower, and then headed downstairs to The Color Factory. (The first of two factories we’d visit this day.) What colorful fun. Lots of photo opps, laughs and treats. A conveyor belt of macarons to begin. A series of different rooms/experiences that link color to taste, sound, and compliments.
The line to the Christmas market was about a block long so we decide to continue on towards the hotel. We stopped at a Paper Source store I didn’t know existed downtown. (Love Paper Source!) We ditched our overnight things and headed further north to our second factory – The Cheesecake Factory. A super delicious dinner and cheesecake to go.
Today (Sunday) was an international day of sorts. We started at Eataly which is a coffee bar, Italian market, bakery, deli, restaurants, etc. etc. (The croissants were so very tempting.) We came home with pasta straight from Italy, chocolates, and coffee. We found that HMart, an Asian grocery, was just a few blocks past Union Station and thus we decided to take a gander and purchase a few things, both known and unknown. (Photo below: Italy on the left, Asia on the right.)
In conclusion: Turning 40 for Lindsay means spending a free day running errands, preparing food, and cleaning the house. It also means walking 12 miles around downtown Chicago, stopping not in their fancy department stores but rather purchasing groceries at international grocery markets. If this is life in this next decade, I’m not mad about it.
I shared my new gardening overalls earlier in the summer. They’ve been put to good use this year.
The vegetable garden is in full force, harvesting zucchini and tomatoes each day. The zucchini, well, it’s starting to pile up. Time for more zucchini bread and noodles. The tomatoes will be stored in the freezer until we have enough to can. (Oh! I got a new canner. An electric Nesco pressure canner. So far, I’ve only water bathed jam. Strawberry, cherry, and rhubarb orange. Looking forward to dipping our toes into pressure canning with tomato products.)
I removed a corner of hosta in our backyard and planted a cut flower garden. For most of the summer, I’ve been wondering if it was a mistake. Fighting with deer and rabbits, and my own dogs to keep them out. Slow growth due to colder temperatures this close to Lake Michigan. It just felt like a failed effort.
Until August showed up. All of a sudden, I have dahlias. Dahlias! My first time growing dahlias and, my goodness, they’re impressive. Zinnias. Bachelor buttons. Calendulas. Cosmos. A Shasta daisy plant that grew bigger but never bloomed. (Sigh.) It’s been a joy to cut flowers and have a vase on the kitchen counter.
Our other big gardening project this year was to take four metal file cabinets, turn them onto their backs, add wheels, remove drawers, paint and plant them. Our “patio” is on our driveway and we sought to have some sort of division. The file cabinets of wildflowers and sunflowers have done the trick.
When just planted in mid-May. Imagine the cabinets now with five feet of sunflowers and wildflowers!
We went garage sale-ing for a couple hours this morning before I had to clock in for some on-call visits. I scored a rolling pin for my growing collection. We found a couple dvds for the camper. A flower pot. And then we found an estate sale.
Dave’s strategy: basement. Basement first. Because – you know – that’s where people keep their pinball machines. This strategy has often been employed but never paid off.
Until today. I was still browsing the kitchen and laundry room of this house when I figured I’d better find Dave. Knowing his strategy, I went to the basement. Where he had found a pinball machine. Which he promptly bought. And started to break down.
I kept browsing and – while it’s no pinball machine – I scored a lefse grill for $5. $5! The grill still has the round paper that originally was taped to the grill surface. Maybe this thing has been used once. $5! My lefse-making will be kicked up a notch this fall with two grills.
I bought gardening overalls and it has changed my life.
Okay. Dramatic much. It has changed my GARDENING life.
Here’s how it happened: I saw a facebook photo with my sister-in-law in overalls. She and my Alaskan brother recently bought a farm in WI and she’s out pruning her fruit trees and planting Christmas trees in her overalls. And I thought to myself: huh. Overalls. I forgot about overalls. They make complete sense.
Facebook obviously read my thoughts because suddenly there were overall ads all over my feed. Duluth Trading Company sells gardening overalls. And I was sold.
Loads of pockets. Space to insert knee pads (haven’t gone that extreme yet). Snaps to roll them up to capris. A fabric that mulch or dirt doesn’t cling to.
They’ve seen me through a lot of hours outside already this season. Tearing up hostas, planting a new cut flower garden, spreading twelve yards of mulch. Gamechanger.
Game. changer. I now better understand what my Dad and Grandpa Sid saw in their blue-and-white-striped wardrobe all those years on the farm.
It was the (nearly) perfect weather weekend to book a non-electric site at Hartman Creek State Park in Waupaca.
We’ve been hiking here once and knew it was a place we’d like to land for a long weekend. State parks are our favorite for camping but do require some advance planning. We booked this weekend back in January to make sure we could make it happen.
The weekend was filled with ticks, carbon monoxide, and lovely moments.
… did I get your attention with carbon monoxide?
We set up camp Thursday evening, went for a short hike, and ate supper. We sat around the campfire on this still night, making the dogs lay on towels – instead of the ground – at my feet so as not to encourage ticks to jump on board.
The fire was diminishing when Emmett tried to get up. But couldn’t. His hips failed him and he went back to the ground. Soon his head was on the ground; he seemed unable to lift it.
Here’s what you need to know: Dave listens to podcasts constantly when driving. One of his favorites is Stuff You Should Know. He quickly realized – thanks to a podcast he’d heard – that Emmett was possibly suffering from an excess of carbon monoxide. It’s a heavy gas; Emmett was laying on the ground. It was a still night; no wind to blow the smoke.
Dave carried Emmett to fresh air, away from the fire, and slowly, he returned to his old self. He lifted his head, tail started to wag, and he rolled to his back for a belly rub. A scary welcome to Camping Season 2023.
Other than that and the ticks (ew), the weekend was glorious. Dave did some extensive hiking on the Ice Age Trail that runs through the park. We spent some time on the patio at our favorite little brewery, HH Hinder. Many games of Farkle, naps, and coffee outside in the morning.
Dave had plans to make a quick trip to Sturgeon Bay to pick up a pinball machine (Is anyone surprised? I’m not.) and the dogs and I rode along. We stopped at Potawatomi State Park for a couple hours of hiking along the bay, and had a delicious lunch at a bistro/dairy along the route.
We stopped at Dave’s sister’s for a couple hours. I brought some cookies to decorate; Elizabeth’s a pro and three-year old Abby loved the piping bag!
Next up: Bong – a state recreation area that’s 45 minutes from home (and within my work territory so I can work from the camper) – in two weeks. We have camping reservations sprinkled through the summer and into fall; here’s to a fun camping season.
The pups; Emmett with some poorly placed face fur. The Ice Age Trail is marked by painted yellow swatches on the trees.
Life has been plump full of little joys lately, as evidenced in my camera roll. (Or perhaps I’m becoming more keen at noticing little joys that really have been there all along? #deepthoughtswithlindsay)
For a couple weekends, a couple weeks ago, I pulled out the hearty sourdough starter. It’s been in the fridge, resting, for a long time. I found a no-knead sourdough recipe from King Arthur Flour that makes a tasty, easy loaf of bread. Super delicious. It requires the starter to do all of the lifting; no yeast added. Proud sourdough starter moment!
Speaking of bread, I think I’ve shared with you that Dave enjoys a good bagel. Living near NYC for a brief time in his (pre-Lindsay) life has spoiled him to all bagels available here. We thought we had perfected the at-home bagel … and then we tried a new recipe from Molly Yeh’s new cookbook. It calls for high gluten flour (we subbed bread flour) and barley malt powder, so it’s a bit more specialized. But boy oh boy can you taste the upgrade.
You all. I joined a wine club. It was a crazy holiday special thing but since then, I’ve stuck with it. And by stuck with it, I mean I get a delivery of six bottles of wine every 12 weeks. (Nothing too crazy! I average about 2 bottles a month.) I don’t drink a whole lot BUT this means what I do drink is yummy. Before I would stand in front of the wine at the store and randomly pick something that I may or may not end up liking. This way, they ‘curate’ (a-hem) a shipment just for me. It brings joy.
I have taken a few cookie decorating classes over the last couple months and am trying my hand at practicing my cookie skills. My mom posted a gnome cookie on facebook, Dave printed a cookie cutter on his 3D printer, and I got to work.
(Are we noticing these are all food related? Hmm.)
We now have a puzzle table at our house. Slowly placing a couple pieces a day. It’s an Easter themed puzzle so we’ve got about 5 weeks …
We spruced up our laundry room and attached bathroom but perhaps that will be another post. But here’s a cute dog soaking up some winter sun from his always-perch on the back of furniture –
The joke at our house is often that I don’t have friends. It’s a joke because it’s not true but – also in reality – I have no LOCAL friends. Dave has made oodles of pinball peeps; he has people over on a weekly basis or is going to pinball events with his pinball friends. I have coworkers that are lovely and social on occasion. But I have no “let’s go see this movie” or “let’s take a pottery class” friends.
So I have no local friends. But the list of really, really spectacular people I consider to be friends is long. I’ve been reminded of that recently.
In the middle of September, I attended my 20th high school class reunion. Whoa. 20. But I didn’t just go to the reunion. Kim and Kris – twins with whom I’ve been friends since, oh, first grade – and I rented a cabin (at the campground we all used to work at) for the weekend. We went to our friend Jenni’s childhood home for a birthday bonfire in her driveway Friday night. (Not unusual behavior for us as high schoolers.) The next day, we attended our reunion where we saw lovely people and added Dancing Banana Lynn to our list of friends who gathered. (That made for 5 of 7 Dancing Bananas gathered, missing our Texan and DC-er.)
(AND THEN, that night, Kim and I built a campfire BY OURSELVES. We were so proud. We sat by it long enough to eat a s’more and then retired to our cabin. Where all three of us climbed the narrow, steep stairs to sleep on thin mattresses in the loft, slumber-party style.)
Fast forward to this past weekend when I jam-packed two days with meet-ups in Minnesota and northern WI. I saw my Dawson-turned-Owatonna friends for dinner. When I first met Aaron and Sabrina in Dawson while I was on internship, I became best buds with their son, Carter, who was, oh, three at the time? He’s now 15 with a learner’s permit. Oy.
The next day, I had coffee at the farm with Marilyn, the admin at Red Oak Grove, the church I used to serve. From coffee, I went to lunch with best-pastor-friends JD and Paige. From lunch, I drove to an early supper with college friends, Amanda and Deb. (Who, after calculations, I’ve known for TWENTY years now, first meeting while I lived across the hall from them in the freshman dorm.)
The following day, I started for home, making a stop in Menominee to visit an aunt and uncle and their NEW PUPPY. We had a delicious lunch, lots of puppy laughter, and then – sadly – it was time to make for home.
… when I met the friendliest people due to my flat tire on the side of the interstate.
Sigh.
News flash: I can’t change a tire.
Updated news flash: They don’t like you to change a driver’s side tire on the side of the interstate anyways. Mr. State Trooper told me so.
I called Dave, freaked out momentarily, before googling local towing companies. The first call was answered and he said he’d be on his way. I maybe had to wait, oh, 20 minutes? Mr. Tow Truck Man arrived and loaded my car onto his flatbed. He was super friendly and made bunches of phone calls to find an open tire shop on a Sunday because my donut spare would not get me the rest of the way. We’ll focus on his friendliness and helpfulness … not the fact that his tow truck had no passenger seat belt and that he was spitting his chewing tobacco into an empty gas station coffee cup as he drove. Nevermind that.
The state trooper that pulled up behind me before the tow truck arrived and approached my passenger window was also the friendliest. I was a bit frazzled at the moment. My phone was ringing with Dave and the Mr. Tow Truck Man and I couldn’t get my audio book to stop playing and cars were zooming by … I apologized for my frazzled state and the trooper kindly responded, “It’s okay. You’ve got a lot going on.” Indeed.
Mr. Tow Truck Man found that Farm and Fleet was my only tire option and so he towed my car there. I was grateful; in an afternoon of chaos, Farm and Fleet is a known entity in my life. I could comfortably sit at F&F and compose myself while they work on my tire (which could be patched, thankfully). I could do that. The service gentleman behind the counter was maybe in his early 60s and kind as kind can be. He had heard my story from Mr. Tow Truck Man and knew I had a bit of travel time still ahead of me. He himself personally re-torqued my tires (Is that the right language? I don’t know. Close enough?) and sent me on my way; he awkwardly paused outside my driver’s side door and wished me well.
Of course I had sewing with me as I waited.
I made it home just after 9pm, about four hours delayed.
I went straight to bed, grateful for splendid friends and friendly people.
Thanks for stopping by! I'm Lindsay, a Wisconsin gal, current hospice chaplain by day; one who loves to quilt, cook, create, garden, travel, walk our two doodles, and write, in addition to a million other life-giving verbs. If you read this - and I hope you do! - it's likely to be a bit unpredictable; probably an odd mix of crazy adventures and random projects with a little emotional venting sneaking in through the cracks. Step into the crazy; it's fun inside.
there's no place like gnome. 