greenclogs

green week :: 4 & 5

The playmobil country village and farm, after Fatzilla (the cat) ran through and destroyed it all. They are slowly rebuilding after an official State of Emergency was declared.

A delightful lunch with Annika at Pure Sushi, sitting on the patio, enjoying the 75 degree afternoon and the smell of orange blossoms in the air. I'm putting this day in my memory bank for September, when I can't remember anything good about living here. 

And so ends green week. 

green week :: 3

bees and lemon blossoms (click to see larger)

My favorite time of year in Phoenix is the end of lemon season (and not because I'm tired of lemons - far from it!). As we stretch up off the ladder to pick the last of the fruit, we see these beautiful pink buds forming at the ends of the leaves. And as the buds open into blossoms, the whole neighborhood is awash in the scent of citrus trees - the orange, the lemon, the grapefruit, the lime. The intoxicating smell will follow us for just two weeks or so, sometimes elusive and caught while stepping out of the car or turning a corner, and sometimes overwhelming and heady as we sit on the back patio in the late evening and talk. 

At this moment, I can believe that this is the best place in the world to live. I just need to close my eyes and breathe it in.

Just don't ask me that question in August. 

green week :: 2

dishes, stacked. A now discontinued Crate & Barrel pattern. 

A note on the clogs from yesterday's post - they were a gift from my mother (hi Mom!) years ago and the brand info is long worn off. You can find something similar at Sven's. I've been eyeing a pair in turquoise. Or maybe red. 

green week :: 1

green clogs in the snow. no snow at our house of course, but we visited it on Thursday (see post below).

I'm very excited to participate in Emily's green week. We all know how I feel about green. 

yellow week - day four

I was going to pose it in a more "natural setting" like out with our coop materials (that are becoming a coop this weekend), but really, this is its natural spot. Sitting on the counter in the pass-through between the kitchen and the dining room. Ready to jump when I need it. It was a gift from my husband, years ago, and I was thrilled. Because let's face it - I'm the handy one around here. That's a sad statement of fact, people. Very sad. Wish us luck this weekend. We're going to need it. 

yellow week - day three

Sangria, anyone?

yellow week - day two

A favorite trench coat that looks vintage but is really from Forever 21. I wore it today because we had rain all night and a chilly morning trip to music class. It makes me feel scruffy and chic at the same time. 

The new chicks are happily part of the household and the children are much better today. Thanks so much for all the well wishes. 

I have to roll myself to bed now. A Spanish friend cooked for us today - tapas all afternoon (cured meat snuck back from Spain) while she made paella for dinner. The best part was the thinly sliced eggplant that was coated in flour and fried then eaten with sea salt and sunflower honey from Budapest. Oh. My. God. I won't need to eat again for a week. And then I'll just want more of that eggplant. I'll try making it myself and report back. Yum.

yellow week - day one

For Erin's yellow week

lemons (I'm sorry, you expected anything else from me?)

squeezed for lemonade

for the lemonade stand (oops - the lemande stand)

served by the well-dressed little lady. Want some?

We also must interrupt yellow week to let you know that chicken disaster struck at the Jackson chicken house. Extra children + lemonade stand excitement = craft room doors left partially cracked and unattended = dog finally getting to "love" the chickens. The sweet yellow babies met an untimely demise due to squashing. The bigger ones flew to an escape and are just fine, but scared. Children are devastated. Mom is spent. Dog is contrite due to everyone she loves screaming at her. New yellow chicks come home with us. Chicks are moved to safer, but less warm location (warm being the reason for the original location). Children warm up to new yellow chicks. Other chicks assume that they are the same yellow chicks, since they are not very smart. Boy swears off ever eating chicken again.  

Rest in peace, Hazel and Mabel. You were loved in your sweet brief lives. Welcome to Daisy and Bailey. We're glad you look just like the other two, even though it doesn't erase the pain.

And I made it until now without crying. Sigh. Onward and upward tomorrow, friends, but tonight we raise a beer to Hazel and Mabel and we mourn.