Under the Tulip Tree

Taking It Outside

Yesterday was a good day. After being out and about all morning, we came home and had a picnic in the backyard. We took our sandwich slices and our lemonades and our cheese squares and we parked our quilt under the blueberry bushes. These two little turkeys still get excited about this type of thing and Perry kept saying over and over, This is the best lunch I've ever had!

Later, when it was time for dinner, I couldn't bring myself to eat inside at the table so I sat outside on the patio (alone) and enjoyed my yummy Zucchini Quesadillas by myself (it was so nice). I make these just about every other week or so and it is one of the few recipes that I know by heart.

From the March/April 2003 issue of Everyday Food

ANY

Zucchini Quesadillas

4 tablespoons olive oil
1 onion, coarsely chopped (I usually use a red onion)
Salt
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 medium zucchini (about 1 pound), halved lengthwise and thinly sliced crosswise
1 cup frozen corn kernels (4 ounces)
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro (optional)
4 (8-inch) flour tortillas (I use whole spelt {no surprise by now})
2 cups grated pepper jack cheese (now, here I actually use regular jack cheese and add in about a tablespoon of crushed red pepper)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. In a large skillet, heat 3 tablespoons oil over medium heat. Add onion and 1 teaspoon salt; cook, stirring occasionally, until onion is soft, about 5 minutes. Stir in garlic; cook 1 minute more.

Add zucchini and frozen corn kernels; cook, stirring occasionally, until zucchini is soft and corn is tender, about 6 minutes. Remove from heat; stir in cilantro, if using.

Brush one side of all tortillas with remaining tablespoon oil; lay 2 tortillas, oiled side down, on a baking sheet. Place half of the filling on each, and sprinkle with half the cheese. Place remaining 2 tortillas on top, oiled side up; press down gently with a spatula to seal.

Bake until cheese has melted and tortillas are golden brown, turning once, about 10 minutes. Remove from oven; let cool slightly. To serve, slice each quesadilla into wedges.

ANY

Do my kids ever eat these? Sadly, no. But I really don't like to share them anyway so it works out.

Enjoy!

ANY

Learning to Dive

This year is going to be Arden's last year of elementary school. Then it's off to junior high. I've been thinking a lot lately about how different her childhood has been from mine. At her age, I was pretty much on my own during the summer. I left in the morning after my parents went to work and I came back home for dinner at the same time they did. Sure I was doing things I shouldn't have been doing and saying things I shouldn't have been saying but, oh, how I cherished that freedom. I can see now that it was a little too much freedom, and I can remember even then thinking I was growing up too fast.

As I watch her stretch her arms up high over her head and see the focus in her eyes, I hear myself silently cheering her name. She pauses for just a moment then hits the water with a splash. She turns around and takes measured strokes back to the side. When she comes up to take a breath, she already looks older to me. And I can see in that moment that diving in uncharted waters, whatever they may be, requires the same reliance on yourself, the same trust that you will figure it out in your own way—that same freedom. She runs to me with her arms wrapped tightly around her chest, still dripping wet and smiling from ear to ear, and falls into me, giggly and proud. And as I wrap her towel around her, I know she still needs me standing on the sidelines, cheering her on. And that's where I'll be for as long as she needs me.

ANY

The Painted House

We are almost totally finished. One wall hasn't been painted yet but it's the wall you can't see from the street unless you happen to catch it at a particular angle. I have to get more trim paint first because I accidentally dumped a whole gallon of it in the grass. Fortunately, I was able to scrape about a quarter of it back into the can and finish most of the house trim with what was left. Unfortunately, there's a nasty paint spot in the middle of my yard.

The porch has certainly been transformed since this post. I sold the cream chairs that used to be here on Craigslist, then bought the garden bench from someone else on Craigslist. (Don't you love how that works sometimes?) My mom gave me the little painted birdhouse. She bought it at an art fair in Chicago years ago. I've always loved it so she surprised me with it on my birthday! She also gave me the chalkboard which is really an old cabinet door that someone painted with chalkboard paint. I got the idea for a chalkboard after I was inspired by my neighbor, Mutsumi, who painted pieces of driftwood with chalkboard paint and used them as little signs by her front door. Someday I'll have to show you her yard, it's super cool.

I knew I had to do something about the dark orange-red brick and the white-painted mortar so I gave them a color wash by watering down some of the gray porch paint and mixing it with a few other darker colors I had on hand. The wash sank right into the brick so I really had to slosh it on. It looks a little more aged and subdued now and that is more of the look I was going for.

The old aluminum storm windows were painted in the trim color, too, and I can't believe how much it helped. The tracks and grooves in the frames were full of old bugs and cobwebs and it felt so good to take them down and blast them with the hose. So glad I did it. (There's a climbing hydrangea at the bottom of this trellis that I'm trying to train to cover the brick.)

Before the transformation, I had a serious problem with our garage door windows. There was nothing to them and they made the house look like a Les Schwab Tire Center. The Mister had a brilliant idea, though, which was to paint the outside edges of the windows in the trim color, then paint and glue little strips of wood to make the windows look like paned-glass. Neat-o!

This color changes drastically in different light. It can look greener or grayer or bluer depending on where you are and where the sun is shining. Sometimes I like it better than others. The one color I do have a problem with, though, is the porch color. I'm not a fan of painted cement but it had already been painted so many times over the years that I didn't really have much choice but to paint it again. I thought I picked a color that was more of a dark, muddy gray (kind of like the color of aged, unpainted cement) but it turned out to be a light, steely gray. It's already showing the dirt and it's too close to the house color so it needs to be repainted.

Soon.

Like right this second.

Because you know how I am about these kinds of things.

ANY

Faux Hawk

I don't know how he does it but this is what his hair looks like when he gets out of bed every morning. It's looked like this since he was two. He's really starting to dislike it, I find myself loving it more and more.

ANY

Helping Dad is Just More Fun

The same exact chore is so completely different (and better) with Dad. I can't tell you how many times I've asked if anyone wants to help me paint, cook, garden, anything and gotten total silence. The same girl who begs me not to take her to the hardware store is the same girl who begs to go with when her father asks. She says it's because I'm always around, so there's no real reason to spend time with me. Perry says it's because Daddy is more fun, and that Daddy is very smart, you know.

This particular chore was fun to watch, and to listen to:

Arden: "Do you think I am a blue jay mixed with a calico cat? I'm trying to be a domesticated griffin."
Perry: "…"
Arden: "Or do you think I am a dog mixed with a bluebird?"
Perry: "…"
Arden: "Do you think I should have rainbow paws or should I just wear a necklace?"
Perry: "…"
Perry: "Wait, is there someone talking behind me?"

Little do they know that when they help him, they help me. I'm sure once they realize they're actually helping me, it suddenly won't be fun anymore and they'll put the kibosh on the whole helping "Dad" thing. A friend told me once that moms are like furniture—sturdy, always around, keeping things up, holding stuff in—so familiar that the kids don't even notice we're here. Honestly? I'm more than okay with that. I think it means I'm doing my job.

ANY

Not Very Graceful

I am not regal, or refined. I have bad grammar and bad punctuation skills. I am not well-read or learned. I laugh uncontrollably at inopportune times. I yell. I swear. I talk loudly. I call landscape supply store owners four-year-olds. I ask inappropriate questions. I spill nachos in my lap. I slip, I fall down. One time I fell down on top of Perry in the grocery store. I laughed about it for days. Another time I walked into a pole watching a tennis tournament. I slid down a muddy hill at school last year. I slipped on the side of the pool last week. That's my specialty, falling down in public places or at spectator sporting events.

Yesterday at Perry's tennis lesson, I bit it. Completely. Bit it. Like, I hit the ground so hard that I knocked the wind out of myself and forgot where I was for a second. We were hurrying to the court (maybe it's the hurrying part that's the problem) and I was carrying two lawn chairs, two sweatshirts, my camera, my wallet, my phone, and my keys in my hands, when I approached a small grassy knoll by the courts and slipped on a seemingly benign patch of dirt. There was a loud THWOP! as my hind quarters hit the ground at a perfect 90 degree angle to the rest of my body. I sat there with my legs out in front of me, motionless, silent, until I heard the faint sounds of a woman asking me if I was alright. First she looked shocked and confused but then she sort of angrily kicked the ground on my behalf and I appreciated that. When I officially came to, all I could say was, I was carrying my camera! And she kept asking, Are you okay?! I said I thought that I was okay. After I checked that my camera was okay, I realized that it had turned itself on during the fall and taken a picture mid-flight to capture the action:

I can't believe I didn't wrench myself. I really was okay. I did need to assure the woman standing next to me that I was still alive because it didn't seem like it at first, I admit. When I looked at Arden's face, she was contorting it into a hundred different positions to keep from laughing. That made me laugh so then I started laughing, and laughing, and then I laughed some more because I was still alive. And then I scheduled my massage appointment. People who are 38 and ungraceful need therapeutic massages quite regularly.

ANY

The Finished Patio

Boy, was I happy to finish this project. It was so unrewarding for so long but it most definitely paid off in the end. It did take a little bit longer than I anticipated because I had to wait for someone's help with the concrete stones. I couldn't maneuver the 60 lb. bags of concrete (or the stones) by myself. Of course that frustrated me to no end but I worked in the garden and searched for patio furniture while I waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. (Just kidding, honey!)

This project also required many trips to the hardware store and to the landscape supply store since I didn't want to get anything delivered. Something about the delivery driver driving over my garden and dragging one of my big landscape rocks 100 feet down the street last time he was here made me a little hesitant about another big delivery. Of course that frustrated the landscape supply company to the point where we actually exchanged words in the landscape supply office. Someone was actually called a four-year-old (him). But after loading bag after bag after bag of sand and concrete in the back of my station wagon, I finally filled the giant hole that eventually became our new patio.

More about our big patio pavers here. Wood bench and lounger from Cost Plus. Pillows and chair cushions from Home Depot. Footstools from IKEA last summer. Chairs from our local Ace Hardware.

The patio has transformed our whole yard. It gives our yard purpose and has totally redefined the space. I would totally do it again in a heartbeat. Maybe not this summer, or the next, or the next one after that but maybe three summers from now. Yeah, three summers from now in a heartbeat.

As I've mentioned, I planted creeping thyme between the pavers with the hopes that it will completely fill the spaces in. It's only been a couple of weeks and it is starting to do just that. I put pea gravel in the space between the pavers and the house. Nothing can grow there and I thought it looked better than just plain dirt. It'll also help with drainage when I put the window boxes up and start watering.

And turning the stone border into a little wall wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It came together naturally, which surprised me. But I've heard that's how these wall things can settle themselves out.

There you have it! It was all done with a shovel, level, hand tamper, rubber mallet, some sand, some gravel, some concrete, and a ton of determination (especially for that digging part). Now there's only one thing left to do, enjoy it!

ANY