Yes, that is three skeins, not three bottles.
I started with a plain garter stitch square and then, keeping a garter stitch border, had fun doing different stitches. Near the end, I weighed what was left and saw there was not enough for a whole square, so I made stripes using three yarns, changing each row. Easy and nothing to carry behind.
These are for AIDS orphans via KAS—Knit a Square.
Raw they began and raw they remained to the end, suffering only being grated and dressed. The carrot and turnips are shown peeled. These are yellow globe turnips we have in the garden and need to eat before they go woody and bolt to seed. I added capers and olives, used mayonnaise as the dressing. If I had made the mayonnaise myself, it would have been raw.
Can you believe the size of this celeriac? It will probably last at least a week. I only used the small slice for this salad. I will need to be creative to fix it in different ways, preferably uncooked. Tonight I will try a nut dressing. I put some hazelnuts to soak to that end.
I remember the first time I ever ate a Brussels sprout. I was in college and my roommate was quite enthusiastic about them; she fixed some frozen ones lightly steamed. Confidently I speared one with a fork and bit into it. Shock! Consternation! Something logarithmic was happening here—all the flavour of a 10 inch cabbage was in this little 1 inch sphere.
Several years later due to my husband’s appreciation of them, I learned another way to fix them—parboiled and then simmered with butter and shallots. This was milder but still they were what we call in French “étouffe-Chrétien” (smotherer of Christians).
Lately I have been leaning towards more raw food so I decided to try them uncooked. I went out in the garden and picked some, mid-afternoon, and prepared them for the evening. I found them to be so pretty.
I wasn’t sure how this would turn out. What a delicious surprise! They were crisp yet not too hard with a very light taste. My husband found them similar to artichoke hearts and wondered why we ever cooked them.
Outside, if one looks, there is a lot of beauty even in the winter months. I have been noticing the hazel which is flowering. Some are yellow and some are reddish brown. I don’t know why.
Something alive, something growing is bon pour le moral (raises one’s spirits).
- physically—more raw food, going outside in spite of the weather, upping activity level (http://21daychallenge.yogajournal.com)
- mentally—studying Arabic, learning more about nutrition
- spiritually—pronouncing the Creator’s Word with the intention to accomplish It, changing self to build a nature of love, forgiveness, peace, creativity, joy, seeking to do good so as to build soul, hoping others will join this movement towards happiness.
P.S. This post is a carrot in front of the donkey that I am.
After this lapse in time you might think que je me suis éclipsée, oops, I have slipped into franglais. It’s just that I like the alliteration of lapse and lipse, nothing to do with being confined to one’s bed (alité). All I need now is to work in the words leaps and loops, but I guess loopy will suffice.
The holidays were a peaceful time for me although I realize that is not the case for everyone unfortunately. Returning to town this morning to resume my yoga class, I noted a bustling feel in the air even though most stores are closed on Mondays. I saw several window washers at work.
This big lump of snow (actual size about 2 feet) kept hanging around long after the rest had melted. After about a week, walking past it with my husband, I said, “Every time I go by here, I feel like kicking that thing”. He replied, “Why not? Go ahead,” and proceeded to do so himself and informed me that it was quite hard. I gave it a little thunk and it was indeed like a rock. I was resisting the urge because it seemed to me that would be a random act of violence and that is the sort of thing we need to root out. I can justify myself by saying it was just a pile of snow, not a living thing, and I didn’t hurt it. As a matter of fact if I had kicked harder, I would have hurt myself, but don’t we always manage to justify ourselves?