Chef David’s Mother’s Day gift to me, still flourishing in our courtyard
It has been a while since I exercised my camera and my eye and so today I decided to capture what was a fairly typical Sunday in our household. It is quiet but not, relaxing but busy. When we put off Sunday chores we pay for that decision all week long. Scoutie and I started our morning outdoors while David was at work, a job he does one day a week for the privilege of free golf. It is hot and humid here, far worse elsewhere. The ceiling fan on the screen porch is our salvation and the only reason we can bear to be outside for a little while.
We always have company; see if you can spot it.
The pepper plants are full of color and greenery.
Scoutie marked the hosta the day we moved in a year ago and we thought had destroyed it, but to our delight it has returned and more than doubled in size,glowing an almost iridescent green.
Scoutie’s mouth forms an ‘O’ just before he warns interlopers away, even if they happen to be only the neighbors taking out the recycling.
Laundry is a necessary thing on Sundays and also provides the heat for the second proofing of our bread dough; I still swear by an old-fashioned washing machine—I’ve had all kinds of fancy high-tech ones, but none of them works as well as the almost obsolete variety. If you want clean clothes, you gotta have soap and water.
Breakfast this morning was steel-cut oatmeal with buttermilk and apples
Simple ingredients for potato leek soup; I rarely peel potatoes even when a recipe calls for it.
The bread I baked today started proofing in the fridge last night; between what David brings home from the bakery and what I (or we) bake in our kitchen, we never eat commercial bread anymore.
Any day you can use an immersion blender or tree a squirrel is a good day, I always say, and so does Scout.
I am teaching myself to sew on this machine I bought about 15 years ago but never really used; after being stuck in cold storage for years in Vermont, by some miracle it still works and I’m tickled. Learning to sew was the topic of one of the epic teenage arguments I had with my mom. I’d rather take AP American History than Home Economics, I insisted, and then prevailed. Later my grownup friends assured me I made the right choice and said all I’d learn in high school home ec anyway was how to sew a stupid pillowcase.
I procured this nifty antique sewing box at the start of my sewing adventure a couple of weeks ago.
The antique dealer who shipped it to me included a cellophane ‘fortune-telling’ fish that comes flat in a little sleeve but moves around when you place it in your hand. According to the rubric, I am passionate. Naturally.
My first sewing exercise was a little nothing whose purpose was to teach me how to sew seams. As The Chef pointed out, it looks alarmingly like…a pillowcase.
Next I moved on to this set of tea towels. I will wait to add the decoration until I’m more practiced at the stitching.
Practice
Tonight’s nearly perfect supper
I leave you with sounds from our screen porch early this morning and wish you a happy week ahead.
One thought on “Sunday Photo Essay: Domestic Arts”
Your sewing is looking good! And the bread is beautiful. I love my immersion blender but don’t use it as much in the summer. I make a pear – carrot soup that is delicious and this post has made me want to make it this week!
Carolina Thinklings 
Your sewing is looking good! And the bread is beautiful. I love my immersion blender but don’t use it as much in the summer. I make a pear – carrot soup that is delicious and this post has made me want to make it this week!
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