moleskine love.

I keep a little Moleskine notebook in my purse. More and more, I'm noting random things via outlets like Facebook or my Twitter feed, but the trusty Moleskine is perfect for capturing things with more heft, meaning and significance. And for stashing found objects like wine labels and four-leaf clovers.

I tend to forget about the Moleskine until I'm in the mood to record something for posterity, and then I remember how much I love making notes in it. But really, the best thing about pulling it out of my purse is leafing through and seeing all the good stuff in there: drunken notes, quotes and booze labels from our 40th birthday trip to St. Barts with our dearest friends; pages where I've used a just-pulled wine cork like a rubber stamp to record memorable bottles; recipe ideas and inspirations; garden plans; little poems like this haiku:

On the Equinox
I see that summer's fading
The garden is tired.

Today, as I was jotting some notes as a creative, self-reflective exercise suggested by my friend Colleen (more on that at a later date), I came across this, which I wrote while I was stuck on the tarmac on some airplane somewhere.

Band Names Inspired by Sitting on an Airplane

Armrest Larceny
Airsickness
Upright + Locked
The Exit Row Seats
The Overhead Bins
Bottom Cushion
The Seatbacks
5CD
Aisle Seat Love
Lavatory Funk
Men with Wings
The Beverage Carts
Turbulence
30,000 Feet
The Mini Bottles
Security Jerk
No Step
The Drop-Down Masks

good at.

During a really terrific catch-up conversation with Mom last night, she told me she'd seen my recent post about the "Hello, I'm good at ..." nametags. So she shared her own "good at" list, and I asked if I could post it here:

I am good at:

Being a mother
Making great meals
I matter
Making a small difference for some people
Feeling gratitude
Being a friend
Loving my children
Loving the space I am in right now
Finding out who I really am

Yay!

september 22.

I will not bow
to seasonal wisdom
and trade geraniums
for mums
… just yet

No sense uprooting
tomato plants;
there’s so much potential
hanging clustered, green
on the vines
... for now

I’ll welcome fall’s bounty
into my kitchen
... soon
corn and strawberries
have not yet
yielded that ground

I’ll avert my gaze
from displays
of costumes, candy
… for at least
another few weeks

Today is
summer’s last day
... but not its end.

good.

At a recent conference that HOW sponsored, I again met up with a fantastic woman named Dyana Valentine, who spoke at the same shindig last year. She's a dynamo (perhaps that should be her first name), one of those people who's completely engaging and thoroughly, genuinely interested in YOU.

Among many things, she helps people connect with each other, and she has a cool version of those "Hello, my name is ..." nametags that she hands out. Hers says, "Hello, I'm good at ..." Which is a brilliant way to get a roomful of people talking to each other. Most people tend to write in something business-related: "I'm good at copywriting," "I'm good at design" -- that kind of thing. But at this conference, some people wrote personal things.

This got me thinking.

Hello, I'm good at ...

finding four-leaf clovers
the very detail-oriented aspects of cooking, like planning and preparation
taking care of Wrigley
teaching
being Rob's partner
balancing (physically, that is, not so much the whole work/life thing)
planting
writing
helping
being diplomatic
keeping score at a baseball game
making focaccia

So there.

the garden.

the garden
does not understand
that I am busy

the beans grow
too big and tough
if they’re left unpicked
for just a day

the lettuce bolts
if it’s not harvested
tomatoes split,
red peppers rot
if I don’t pay attention

the flowers droop
if I neglect to water
spent blooms straggle
if don’t take care

the garden
does not understand
that I am busy

the dog needs a walk
dinner needs to be made
the gym beckons
work demands

the garden
does not mind
that I am busy

it is there
when I have time
to harvest
to water
to prune

to breathe

too delicious.

There are two food-related (obsessed?) blogs that I wish I wrote: 100cookbooks.com and smittenkitchen.com. Neither fails me whenever I bookmark a recipe.

So when I spotted this recipe for Tomato and Corn Pie on smittenkitchen.com earlier this week, I made a note to make it this weekend.

Holy Mother of All That Is Delicious!

There is simply no better thing do to with late-summer corn and tomatoes. If you're a food person who reads this (that would be: Mom!), please do yourself a favor and make it while the fixin's are good.

Allow me to back up just a bit for a seasonal musing. Around the Fourth of July, I sink into a midsummer melancholy, sad that my favorite days are passing while I'm chained to a desk 9 to 5, mournful that I can't manage (even with summer's blissfully long days) to accomplish all I want to do.

Then, sometime in early to mid-August, when the days start to shorten perceptibly and the sounds from the swim club across the street stop a bit earlier in the evening, I recognize that summer isn't waning ... it's beginning. There remain weeks and weeks of 70- and 80-degree temps, summer produce and bouquets of zinnias that last until, around here, the end of October.

So I feel better.

Now, as the farmer's market kicks into high gear, really, and tomatoes and corn are still in full bounty, recipes like the Tomato and Corn Pie really resonate. There's something fall-ish about making any kind of pie, and the fact that it's packed with summer's best vegetables is just, well, a double crust.

Heaven.

Seriously, make this recipe. It doesn't note how many servings it yields, but Rob and I polished off nearly half the thing.

in the media.

I was happy to be interviewed by local food columnist Polly Campbell for a story on Cincinnati-area farmers markets in the Wednesday Cincinnati Enquirer a couple of weeks ago.

“We go to Findlay every Saturday with a list to do most of our shopping,” said Bryn Mooth, a devoted farmers market shopper from Mount Lookout. “Then we go to Hyde Park to socialize and see what they have – it’s a little more serendipitous.”

Here's a link to the full article.

And then today, there's a fun Q&A that I did with Justin Ahrens, a designer who runs a studio called Rule29 outside of Chicago. I've gotten to know Justin through the HOW Design Conference and the magazine; he's one of those folks I'm glad I've crossed paths with in my professional life. Here's a link to the interview.

company in the garden.

Just found this bad girl on the lantana in the garden: she's a black and yellow Argiope, She's probably 2.5 inches toe to toe, and her coloring is very impressive. The website says we should also see her mate (he's responsible for the zigzag patterned web). It also notes that she's not harmful to humans -- in fact, she keeps all manner of pests away -- but frankly, she scares the pants off me.

in a nutshell.

These two images from an illustrator in London named Freya pretty much sum up how I feel about Rob (and Wiggy) and the life we've created together:

we're just saying.

I don't think there's a better place and time to be than outside at 9:30 on the evening of the longest day of the year, absorbing the residual late-evening heat, watching the lightning bugs and listening to the last sounds from the swim club echoing across the street. I just think this is the best. Ever.