Beautiful Rutabagas

Vegitables are beautiful. I might go so far as to say they are holy. Living things that give of themselves selflessly. 

Psalm 119:96 I have seen the consummation of all perfection 

I was reading this verse and staring at the large (and only slightly frightening ) rutabaga that I vased in my room. I could not bear to eat it after gathering it up in my arm in the field. It was love at first sight. It's stems are blush fading to deep green and the body is a deep plumb purple, slashed with white score marks. So close to a work of art in my mind. Perfection in creation. 

But this verse. The writer says that in seeing God, he has seen the consummation of ALL perfection! 

Consummation: the state of being consummated; perfection; fulfillment.

Perfection: . the highest degree of proficiency, skill, or excellence, as in some art.

God is the fulfillment of all artistic skill. This rutabaga is rooted in excellence. 

If I am taken by a vegitable, how much more would I sit stunned in the presence of someone who is the consumation of all perfection? 

Cold. Foggy. Apples. Farm.

I took little man to a farm out towards the mountains last week. It was crisp and we wore matching flannel. We packed a lunch of cheese quesadillas, apples, and lots of water. The drive was about an hour. An hour of my windshield wipers beating fog away in time to the lilting sounds of Jack Johnson. An hour of road beneath tires, and a tiny voice asking earthy questions. Ahh, moving.

We arrived just as the tractor full of suburban farmers come to visit was pulling away. Armed with cloth totes we jumped aboard the slow moving wagon of hay and set out to the fields. 

The farm was huge! Mountains looming over us and expansive fields stretching as far as we could see. 

Little man and I don't mind dirt at all. We roll up our sleeves and dug for those potatoes!

The carrots were our favorite by far. Grabbing them by their leafy hair and heaving against the soil's grip. A crumbling, shifting quake and... Viola! Carrot resurrections everywhere. We yank them up, like a backwards baptism. 

Our entire haul included both green and purple kale, cabbage, carrots, sweet and brown potatoes, peppers, pumpkins, Indian corn, onions, celery, and one magnanimous rutabaga. 

It was a lovely, dirty, wholesome day. We drove home, took baths, at a whole carrot each and then little man went to bed. 

While he slept... I made apple butter. :) 

• Apple Butter
• 2 lbs Granny Smith or honey crisp apples
• 1/2 cup apple cider vinager
• Water to cover
• 2 cups sugar
• 1 tbs cinnamon
• 1 tbs cloves 
• 1 tbs ground ginger
• 1 tbs allspice 
• The rind and juice of one lemon

Rough chop the apples and put them in a large pot with the vinager. Cover with water and brig to a boil. Simmer them until soft. Purée with an blender and return to the pit with the sugar, spices and lemon. Cook on low heat until the cot is amber and the consistency thick and smooth. 

Your house will smell amazing at this point. 

Let the apple butter cool completely before canning it. 

  

A Modern Psalm

A Wave 

Your word hits me like a wave from behind I didn't see coming.

Large, and living it catches me at the back of my knees and thrusts me forward. 

It is surprising to the point of fear, the kind of fear that bleed into delight. 

The hem of my dress is wet and speckled with sand, I am breathless with the way it hits home, and comforted by the way it understands me. 

Surrounding me, and overtaking me. 

It exposes itself, rearing tall above me, and then plunging deep, making itself small so as to reach hidden places. 

As it retreats from it's moment of glory it leaves rings of foam around my ankles, and I know that next time I want it to knock me all the way over, not just leaving me staggered, but burying me in itself, washing me smooth and clean like the shore.

End for a Beginning

Oh how I am ready for summer to be over. That sounds kind of harsh, but so is the heat here... soooo, I think I am entitled. I want to cook with things that I love, like squash, and kale, and figs.I want to wear things that I love, like scarves, and boots, and leggings. I want it to be fall. 

My new job is feeding my soul in a deep way I didn't know I was missing until I found it again. The little boy I watch is like miniature version of myself, and our adventures together feel like old friends joining hands after a long time apart. I cook. From their families garden I cook. There is something about earth to table cooking, it feels right and whole. 

Above all I love that what I do now is not only what I'm passionate about, but it blesses someone else in a significant way. Like I am putting their family on stilts in the middle of a flood. 

Me and God. 

Here are some things I have made this month. 

[Peach Crisp with a Cornmeal, Oat, and Black Pepper Crumble]

[Green Tomato Cornbread]

• 2 cups seeded, diced green tomatoes (about 3/4 lb.)
• 1/4 cup honey
• 1/2 cup butter, melted and divided 
• 2 cups yellow cornmeal 
• 1/2 cup gf flour
• 1 tsp salt
• 2 teaspoons lemon zest
• 5 large eggs 
• 1/2 Cup diced green chilies 
• 1 (16-oz.) container sour cream
• Combine the dry ingredients in a separate bowl. In a stand mixer beat butter, honey, sour cream, and eggs. Incorporate the dry ingredients into the mixer, and mix until just combined. Fold in the tomatoes, chilies, and lemon zest.
• Bake in a cornbread mold or muffin tin at 350 for 20 min.
• 
  

[Roasted Acorn Squash]