spring scenes in the city

I'm a country girl of sorts. But I find beauty in cities. There's something about a metropolitan skyline, juxtaposed with earthly elements, that just heightens your awareness of the natural beauty around us. A pink sunset reflecting off a glass building. An apple blossom canopy over a dingy old fire hydrant. Yes, there is beauty in these things.

Here are some images that I took recently (on my phone no less), one in Burlington, a couple in New York. Perhaps it's the dirty, man-made city stuff framing Mother Nature in such an unexpected way that makes her look even more charming and awe-inspiring.

running in the rain

For many people, I think inclement weather is considered good reason enough to put off a workout. Not me though. I don't even need that excuse. For me, a mere "I'm tired," is enough to keep me from putting on my running shoes.

But the rain, I could run in the rain all day. I love the cool, wet on my face. The sound of puddles splashing as I pass by. The verdant landscape all around me that seems to pop with a bright spring green in big contrast to the gray skies above.

I think this rain-running love started way back when I was training on the ski and cross-country teams in school. When you're training, you don't just not run because it's raining. Your coach will see to that. So you learn to enjoy it.

But like I said before, it's not bad weather that holds me back. It's my excuses and lack of motivation. Without a coach around to hold me accountable, I'm realizing that I need a support system to keep me going when "I'm too tired" seems to roll off the tongue so easily these days. So the other day, my sisters and I decided to be each others' support systems.

But today, on the first day of the new motivated me, I texted them to see if they wanted to go running with me after work. Turned out neither of them could make it. I was feeling sorry for myself. For a little bit. But the thing about a support system is this: when all else fails you need to be able to support yourself.

So tonight I left work with all intentions to go running. I got home, fed the cats. I was hungry, so I had a snack. I could feel the urge to run waning with every minute I stalled. So I bargained with myself: "just go for a walk and if you feel like running, you can." That was enough to get me out the front door. But as soon as I got outside it started raining. A good, solid, steady rain. "I can't walk in this," I thought to myself. So I started running. I ran the whole way and got home drenched and hot and chilly all at the same time. But it felt so good. And I was so proud of myself for just doing it. All by myself. So I wanted to celebrate this little moment somehow. So here it is: I went running. Yay!

springish pasties

The kind of spring we've had this week—the cold drizzle and whipping wind, the smell of damp earth, the robin redbreast hopping about the mud puddles—reminds me of England. In particular, it reminds me of a walk along a certain Dorset footpath and through the wild windswept pastures of Worth Matravers, which slope down to the sea in a disquieting fashion.

It was after (or before? I can't quite remember) that walk, we stopped by the local pub for some of what our Uncle Richard told us were the best Cornish pasties and cider around. They certainly were. It was on that day that many traditions unfolded, not the least of which our famed Butterboots. I often think upon that day with such fondness and nostalgia. I would love to go back... But in the meantime, here is the Cornish pasty recipe that I tried to recreate with mixed success and which I'm thinking of trying again for a pasties & cyder night very soon.

powder on the mount

One of the popular courses of discussion at my work, besides food of course, is the weather. That probably goes without saying at many a workplace. Especially with such a snowy winter as we have had. And what I've noticed from these kinds of conversations is that you can immediately detect the skiers and riders from everyone else. They're the ones that, when April 1 rolls around and the weather service puts out a winter storm warning predicting 6-8 inches of snow, are crossing their fingers for powder. Whereas everyone else just gets depressed. I belong to the former group.

So yesterday at work, when the only wet coming from the sky was a cold, damp rain, and some anti-snowy colleagues began to gloat, "I knew that forecast couldn't be true," I found myself slightly annoyed. "I'll show them!" I thought to myself and set my alarm clock for 6:45 a.m. this morning (Saturday). I dragged myself out of bed and called the Stowe line. They had 6" of fresh snow! With Colin on the other side of the world and my snowboarding friends out of town, I packed up my stuff and went to Stowe solo.

I found a quiet untouched corner and had powdery trails all to myself. "Where is everyone?" I wondered. I guessed they were probably back at home cleaning up their yards for spring. Or taking a run in the mud and puddles. Not me though, I was enjoying full-on winter up there.

I took some pics with my phone and texted them to Col. "Pow! Wishing you were here." He was just about to have dinner in Hong Kong. "Having pre dinner drinks overlooking HK," he texted back. (That text'll cost $0.25). I was about to ride a trail that's only open when there's lots of snow, because of all the rocks and drops. First time I tried it was with Col during the epic March snowstorm. Second time was now, by myself. So I sent another pic to prove I was doing it. He wrote back, "Wow... that's unfair! Shred the pow pow!" (Another $0.25, but so worth it: I miss my boy and having that little conversation was the next best thing to having him there with me.)

I wish I could say I stayed there all day, but after a couple of hours I was tired and ready to go home. And by that point, the snow was getting chunky and wet and slow. No, didn't last long, but it was long enough to get outside and enjoy this beautiful paradise we live in.

As I drove back to Burlington, the snow began to recede. It was a totally different world and climate less than an hour away. I walked up to my back door and noticed that the huge pile of snow that had accumulated on top of our garden is almost totally melted. I picked up a couple of stray papers that had blown around onto the yard and underneath one of them I found fresh green 2" shoots sprouting out of the dead chive patch from last year. My chives are up!

Winter at the mount, spring in the valley. I can live with that. It's the best of both worlds.

in the woods

It's official. I'm a snowboarder. And the other officialness is this: (Mummy, Joan, please avert your eyes) today I rode the Butt Crack. That's right, the Butt Crack.

Up until now, I've been all about the powder, the little jumps here and there. I'm not about the speed. I just like to play in the snow. That's what I like to do.

It all started a few weeks ago, when Col and I met up with Taylor one day snowboarding and the two of them convinced me to go in the woods. They picked out a trail that was totally mellow and nice and flat. They let me take my time. I was scared. The turns are faster and tighter, but I couldn't believe how much snow was in there. All that powder!

A couple of weeks later, Mark and Kathleen came up for the weekend. We all decided it would be a good idea to do that woods run again. It was a good idea. It was fun and Kathleen couldn't get enough of it.

So as of today, I had only been in that one part of the woods a few times. But I hadn't been in any other woods. I just didn't feel ready. Col and I had a really fun morning riding around all over, meeting up with friends, grabbing powder wherever we could find it. Then we went inside for a warm up and in the middle of stuffing his face with samples of Cabot Cheddar cheese, Col said to me, "I think you'd really like Butt Crack."

I said, "I will do it if you really think I will like it, but the thought of it really scares me." So he suggested we take a trial run in some steeper woods. It went well and after that, he said, "I think we should do it."

"Who named it the Butt Crack?" I asked. "And why is it called Butt Crack?"

"I dunno, some old schoolers, probably. It's called Butt Crack because the shape of it is like a gully and you can snowboard up and down the sides of it. You'll love it."

I was intrigued. And well, as I mentioned before, we did it. It was awesome. We were the only two people there the whole time and I did pretty well for a first-timer. At the bottom, we arrived at a little stream, which we had to jump over to get back to the main road. I suggested we take some photos as proof. So here's the proof. I can't wait to go back to the Crack :-)

more snow

Finally, a good snow storm in Burlington. Make that two. One on Wednesday and one last night. The storm last night happened in a matter of a couple of hours. It was absolutely dumping. Emi and I went snowshoeing out on the golf course (the snow was blowing sideways!).  Then Hannah and Richard and Isaac came over and we all had family night dinner (sans Col who was en route to Germany for work). Kev made us barbecued ribs. And Hannah and Richard made the most amazing ice cream sundaes with warm stroopwafel cookies and strawberry sauce.

During our meal, it was thundering and lightening AND snowing! By the time dinner was over, the roads were a mess, but I was determined to drive home. I dropped Isaac off at his place, made it all the way to my driveway and then proceeded to firmly stick my car into a snowbank with my car protruding out in the middle of the road. Scary! Dangerous!

But by good fortune and because I live downtown and it was Saturday night and there were tons of people walking about, going to parties, enjoying the snow, I was able to get some help within seconds. It look three groups of people banding together and a person with a shovel to dig/push me out. But finally they did it!

I couldn't get in my driveway and I couldn't park on the street cause of the parking ban, so I waved them all a thank you goodbye and, with hands still shaking from the traumatic experience, drove back to Emi and Kevin's to park my car. Hannah and Richard were still there. The three of us walked home together.

The weather got rough during our walk. By the time we got to my place, it was after midnight and we were totally covered with icy chunks of snow. I could not wait to cozy up with the kitties and go to sleep.

Next morning, I woke up super-early and Kev and I drove to the mountain for some fresh powder. The conditions were amazing. We rode and skied hard all morning. We discovered new hidden trails I've never been on before. It was great to spend some quality time with my bro-in-law.

Later in the day... I met up with my two amazing sisters for a due-date pedicure. That's right, it's Emi's due date today! But she's still as preggers as ever. Which means that we sisters can keep on bonding and hanging before bk2 comes along. Wonder when that will be...

memory tree

I think one of the main reasons why Colin and I get so excited about our Christmas tree every year is because we are both very nostalgic people. Moreover, when you get engaged and then married around the holidays, there are more things to remember and be nostalgic about. So it goes, we're now into the third year of going to Paine's to cut our tree after a day of snowboarding. It's now an established tradition in our household the weekend after Thanksgiving. So we went last weekend—we were still in our snowboarding clothes. We did our traditional hike to the furthest most corner of the farm. We did our traditional hum and hawing, back and forth, inspecting shapes and branches, measuring heights. Finally, we found our beauty and got to work.

At Paine's, they have a tractor circling the property so that when you've got your tree, they help you haul it back. The tractor came just as we found our tree. An older man and a young boy dismounted and seeing the size of our girl offered to go get the chainsaw.

"No thank you, it's kind of a must we do it by hand," we explained. "It's a tradition." And then we told them the story about how we got engaged there at the farm two years prior. Both the man and the boy were those kind of old time Vermonters, stoic and reserved. Outwardly, they didn't seem to be very moved by our lovey, dovey story, or so it seemed anyways. But they were very helpful with the tree and we (er, Colin) sawed it down in record time.

The boy and his father drove us back to the lot. As we were  dismounting the wagon, the man came up to us and dug around in his pocket. He pulled out a small ornament and handed it to us. It was a metal casting of a car with a tree on the roof rack. It was engraved with: Paine's Christmas Trees 2010.

He had few words, but they said a lot, "Because of your special story," he said.

We had got our garland and paid and were heading to the car when he found us again. "We had just one left," he said handing us another ornament. This time it was a metal star etched with a Christmas tree in the middle and the words: Paine's Christmas Trees 2008. The year we got engaged there.

We were so touched and full of gratitude. I think I even blushed. We thanked him warmly, got in the car and drove home with happy hearts.

I will remember that story every year when we hang those ornaments. Just as I will remember our trip to Paris when I hang the Eiffel Tower man, or our honeymoon when I hang the green and yellow pineapple, our wedding when we hang the paper cranes, or Austria when we hang the wooden star.

Later, that night at home when we were trimming the tree, every ornament that we pulled from the box brought back a certain memory, a wonderful memory. We would reminisce a bit, then pull another ornament from the treasure chest.

"It's like a memory tree," Colin declared. He positioned his traditional hand-made star on the tippy top and we stood back and admired our girl. She's may not be as tall as last year's or quite as special as our love tree from 2008, but she is a beauty and we love her.

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this natural shampoo smells like orange creamsicles (and it's made in Vermont!)

Like many people, I try to be eco-conscious when I can. In a place like Burlington, it's pretty easy to eat local, to find "green" cleaning products, to recycle—even compost—almost everything. Some things are still a challenge. Like finding a natural deodorant that actually works (any suggestions?). I mean, even though I want to use natural products, I still want to feel and smell pretty. (That's my vanity showing through right there.)

My latest obsession has been finding the perfect sulfate-free shampoo that doesn't make my hair feel like straw or, worse, look like a grease slick. I've tried a lot of "natural" shampoos, but not with much luck. Recently, however, a Vermont-based body care company Flourish has popped up and their products are becoming more available around town—at Healthy Living, at The Green Life. My sister Hannah gave me a bottle of their honey blossom shampoo and I'm totally obsessed and so is Col. It smells like orange creamsicle!

Tonight, they had a little sample party at the Green Life, another Burlington store obsession of mine filled to the brim with lots of tasteful, design-ey, eco-cool stuff. I went and stocked up on shampoo samples, sugar scrubs and little guest hand soaps. I am a product junky, and I would probably buy it for the nice packaging alone (yes, I know, that's very Consumer of me) but this stuff is really great! I just had to spread the word.

And have you been to the Green Life yet? If not, you should go. If not for all the crazy cute baby clothes and accessories, then for the yummy candles and wool felted Christmas tree ornaments shaped like mushrooms and gnomes.

Photo: flourishbodycare.com

the year of tarragon

I tend a small kitchen herb garden by the back entrance of our home and every year it flourishes. My lavender especially. By whim, this year, I decided to plant some French tarragon. It's pretty and I thought maybe I could use it in some recipes (even though until now I hadn't used it very much at all).

Over the summer, I became obsessed with its sweet licorice flavor and started snipping it into everything from fresh green salads and dressings to lemony pasta and mussels steamed in white wine.

My other herbs got the cold shoulder this year, but I believe they've have their fair share of time in the sun. This year is the year for tarragon.

And it's still flourishing—even amidst frosts and snow flurries.

This morning, I discovered a new sweeter side of tarragon and my taste buds were just blown away. I was making myself a breakfast parfait with a chopped honeycrisp apple, some banana, plain whole milk yogurt, a touch of maple syrup and some granola on top. I wanted to snip some basil in, but the basil in my garden has gone by and there's no mint either. But tarragon? Yes, there's still tons. And I thought to myself, "This might be crazy, but I'm willing to give it a try!"

And you know what? It was really quite wonderful.

Now I'm sitting here typing and nibbling on some fresh tarragon leaves—tastes just like candy!—and I felt the need to share my obsession.

favorite fall weekend, v. 2010

Tonight at dinner, Col said to me, "maybe you should get back into your writing again." It's true, I've been thinking the same thing, but in response I used my normal crutch and said, "I know, but lately it just seems like a chore, when I get home from work and am feeling drained... the last thing I want to do..."

But he bounced right back and said, "maybe you should try thinking of it more as a treat, rather than a chore, as something you can do after dinner when everything else is done."

So I said, "Does that mean you'll wash the dishes from dinner so I can go write?" Ha. Trapped. He's washing the dishes now (which is fair, I mean, I did cook the dinner).

Col's traveling again this week. He was in Puerto Rico last week and in Japan a few weeks before that. Now he's going to the West Coast for work. California then Seattle. It sounds like it's going to be a hellish week. Any-who, we decided to spend an amazing day together before he takes off tomorrow morning.

Shelburne Farms closes this week, and we haven't been all summer, so we went for our annual fall brunch at the Inn. You know, it's on this amazing piece of property by the lake, but we've been having a Nor'Easter for the last couple of days and the Lake was in turmoil, churning and frothing and boiling, Col was so excited, he almost went home and got his surfboard and wet suit to try and ride the breaks. It was that intense.

But we went to breakfast instead. Which was lovely and we got the typical farmhouse breakfast.

Afterwards, we met up with the Kouri fam at the petting farm and saw lots of tame and fluffy animals. Sapphie couldn't get enough of the chickens. My favorite part was the little hut with the mama pig and all of her little piglets.

It then starting pouring on us and we cut our visit short, but not before we visited the cheese-making room, where I reminisced about the summer I worked at Town Farm Dairy in Simsbury, Connecticut. And my main job was cleaning the glass bottles, washing the pails and various parts from milk processing. And stirring the curds. I often forget about that past life...

Anywho, tonight, I cooked a date night dinner for Col and me. I made a Vindaloo Curry with my new spice mix from the Teeny Tiny Spice Co. It was very good! Col said it was like something you get in a restaurant and I couldn't bare to tell him how easy it was. Then I made a yummy Autumn salad and I feel like I should write down the recipe so I don't forget it.

Salad:
Chopped Boston and romaine lettuce
Some chopped spinach leaves
Slivered raddichio
All of these cut into slivers/matchsticks: hearts of palm, a couple of radishes, crispy apple
(I've also added slivered hard-boiled eggs and chopped pistachios to this salad and it's very good)

Dressing:
Garlic clove crushed
Juice of half a lemon
Couple tablespoons rice vinegar
1/2 teaspoon grainy mustard
1/2 teaspoon curry powder
1/2-1 teaspoon honey
Salt & pepper to taste
Couple to a few tablespoons olive oil

At least I think that's everything. I always change up my recipes, but this is what I remember from tonight. Put everything but the olive oil into a lid jar and shake like crazy till honey is dissolved. Then add the oil and shake like crazy again.

Oh and Col's contribution? Some amazing tropical fruity drinks to tame the spice. Yummy, yummy to my tummy!

back to the berry farm

Bluebug season is in full swing, so we went back to the berry farm bright and early this morning before the clouds burned off to pick a few pounds. We went with Emi, Kevin and Sapphie. Our friend Mindy is staying with them for the weekend and she came too. Then we met up with Michelle and G-boy when when we got there. It was a fun little party!

The blueberries were so prolific that all you had to do was cup your hand under a bunch, jiggle your fingers a bit and catch the harvest that tumbled down. Colin developed his own technique for this and gave me a lesson. We picked 8 pounds in less than an hour.

When the parents were cashing out, I hung out with kiddos by the Imagine boat. Then we all booked it back to Burlington to hit up the Farmer's Market and get to the Plum Lady before she sold out. It was actually the Plum Man this time. And his son whose job it is to cut off bits of plum for people to sample. I always take a bite even though I know I'm going to get some. Some of them are still a little tart, but soo0 good...

calm before & after

I just realized that I never posted these photos from a thunderstorm we had a couple of weeks ago. It was a lovely evening so Colin and I took a walk down to the waterfront for date night. But as soon as we arrived, we noticed some ominous clouds drifting in rather swiftly. Then thunder, then lightning, then crazy strong winds. We took shelter at the boat house and were literally stuck there till the storm passed. I tried to get pictures during the storm, but it was nearly impossible. The best I could do was the calm before and after...



After which we decided we needed a nice warm supper. So we went to Leunig's late-night.

in the herb garden

They say you shouldn't plant your garden till after Memorial Day, but we live in Vermont's banana belt for heaven's sake and I just couldn't resist picking up a few things at the garden shop this weekend when it was SO nice outside. I had to extend the garden in order to fit all of the new goodies (rosemary, French tarragon, salvia and pineapple sage—that was Colin's pick) and am quite pleased with the result.

Colin helped me excavate some rocks from the back hill (he worked on the stone border while I worked on the plantings). I even found some forget-me-nots literally growing on top of the gravel in the parking lot. So I transplanted them to a delicious new home in my garden with lots of compost, dirt and pine mulch. And a good dose of water too. There, all pretty now!

fresh Vermont maple syrup, mmm, that's pure livin'

Can't believe it's March and the chimney stacks at the sugar house are chug-chugging to high heaven. That's a sure sign that the sap is flowing and the first fresh batches of maple syrup are on their way.

Lots of Kev's farmers boil sap, so when he does his rounds this time of year, instead of stopping by the farm, he stops by the sugar house. Today, at one of those sugar house stops, one of the guys collected a water bottle full of maple syrup from the vat and gave it to Kev as a gift to bring home. Kev was so kind enough to share his treasure with us tonight after a yummy dinner of lamb stew and crusty bread.

"First maple syrup of 2010," Kev said as he brought it out to the table for dessert. "This stuff is so fresh; it never even went to the barrel."

If you're lucky enough to get your hands on syrup so fresh (which is easy enough, by the way, if you stop by a sugar house when there's smoke coming out of the chimney), the only thing to do—the proper thing to do—is to drink it straight up. So you can enjoy it's every complexity and sweet, caramel nuances.

So Kev poured us each a shot. We clanked our glasses together and toasted to maple syrup, the sugar season and to the farmers too. Chin chin. Mmm that stuff is good.

snow, finally, snow

Well, it took a little patience, but we finally got our first big snowstorm of the season. Burlington got the most out of anywhere and they reported record snowfall at the airport—30 some odd inches. (I don't know what kind of measuring stick they were using over there; we got just around 2 feet at our house downtown.)

The entire weekend was a-snow. But there was a quiet moment around midday Sunday and I walked into town to run some errands. I couldn't believe all the snow piled high on Church Street! And there was still more to come...


Later last night, before family night dinner, the girls took a dusk snowshoe across the street at the golf course. Sapphire was tucked in snug as a bug. The snow was past our knees, but light as a feather.


It was even higher than the dogs. They got tired pretty quickly and stayed in the path the whole way back.


Yay snow!

one year later

I still can't believe it, but it's already a year ago that Colin and I drove out to Paine's to cut down our Christmas tree after a day of snowboarding at Stowe. A year ago that Colin got down on his knee and proposed to me, out in the woods in the middle of nowhere. It's been a great year. A fast one and a great one.

We drove back to Paine's this weekend. There wasn't as much snow as last year (none!) and the mountain hadn't opened yet. But at least it was chilly and my toes got cold. We walked all over in search of the second perfect tree. They have acres and acres of trees on that the farm. But finally after at least an hour of walking to and fro, we found a big fat tree, right in the same exact spot as last year's tree.

That spot is magical, I swear. As soon as we looked at each other and said, "this is it," snow flakes started falling.

We got to work. This tree must be fatter than last year's tree. The trunk is ginormous and it measured over 10 feet tall! This year, I wasn't so preoccupied with my ring finger, so I lent a hand. A little hand, anyhow. It still took us a half hour to cut it down.

The man on the tractor came and picked us up. Heavy tree!

The men back at the tree stand wrapped her up in twine and tied her to the car. Big bendy tree! We got lots of funny looks from people passing us on the interstate. It snowed almost the whole way home.

She was curvier than we thought. It was a challenge to get her in the stand without swaying to and fro, but finally we did. And Colin made a new star for the tippy top. And here's the tree.

favorite fall weekend in pictures

Here are some pics from My Favorite Fall Weekend II.

Brunchies at Shelburne farms:

Shelburne Farms:

Apples, apples everywhere:

Blushing apples:

Juicy apples:

Our apple harvest:

Apple betty, mmmm!

A turning tree: