shining egg

14 november

today is d.'s birthday.  the highlights?  a new guitar strap.  a song, with a girl on the piano and a boy on the cello.  a science experiment (of sorts) on the driveway.  and pecan pie.  he loves pecan pie.  i love to make pecan pie.  we're a good team that way.

my dad made a really superb pecan pie, and i followed his recipe for years after he passed away.  but my dad's pecan pie had corn syrup in it, and i'd really rather cook without corn syrup whenever possible.  so a few years ago i started looking for an alternative, and i've been making this one ever since.  it's the new family standard.  and i use this pie crust recipe, only i use an entire recipe (we like the crust.) for a single crust pie. 

(and the secret to a super flakey all-butter pie crust - aside from using less water rather than more - is to keep the dry ingredients in the freezer for 24 hours before making the crust.  works like a charm.)

13 november

i made the cake, and wow.  i made a few modifications, using yogurt instead of sour cream (adding an extra teaspoon of baking soda to compensate) and using unsweetened peanut butter in an effort to make the cake a wee bit less sweet (did i just say that!?!), and it was excellent.  rich (really, really rich), and decadent, and all around excellent.  

i'm counting on some friends to help us finish it up over the weekend, because tomorrow i'm making a pecan pie (as requested) for the actual birthday.

12 november

i started this cold, rainy thursday making ravioli with my friend naomi, and i (almost) finished the day making this cake.  i mean, i've only made the cake part, the frosting will be tomorrow, but doesn't it look decadent?  extremely decadent?  yeah.

and in between the ravioli and the cake?  i managed to fit in a few other bits:

* i visited first grade and watched my girl solve math problems, write a paragraph about the color turquoise, and speak complete sentences in another language.

* i got a hair cut.  just a little one.

* i made a veggie stir fry for dinner.

* i proofread the rough draft of a (highly complex) paragraph about flooding in bangladesh and what one man is doing to keep his country's children in school in spite of the rising water.

* i visited jen's beautiful pop-up shop.

* i found a very special package in my mailbox.

gosh, it doesn't look like much when i spell it all out like that, but it felt like an awfully full day to me.  and tomorrow is friday the 13th.  i'm trying to embrace that. 

11 november

 

i didn't take a single picture today.  this one is from yesterday, when i was making dinner.  it's always a good idea to sort your beans before soaking them, and here's why.

tonight for dinner i made a variation on a favorite dish (which was introduced to our family by a special friend).  partly because i never do anything the way it's supposed to be done, and partly because this is an excellent way to enjoy the dish when you don't feel like standing outside at the grill in the cold rain, i've adapted it.  

here's our version of the barefoot contessa's tuscan lemon chicken:

3 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts (i prefer mine pounded thin, but that's just me)
kosher salt
1/3 cup olive oil
1/3 cup lemon juice
6 cloves crushed garlic
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley

rinse the chicken, and sprinkle with salt
mix the rest of the ingredients together and pour over the chicken, allowing it to sit overnight (or all day, if you forget to do it the night before and make it first thing in the morning like i did today. oops.)

preheat the oven @ 375

place the chicken in a baking pan, discarding the remainder of the sauce
bake the chicken at 375 for 20-30 minutes, or until cooked through

enjoy!

tonight, i served this chicken alongside roasted fingerling potatoes, wilted kale with onion and garlic, and a salad that included hearts of palm and artichoke hearts.  with girl scout cookies for a treat after dinner.  it was perfect on a cold, rainy night.

and that's all i've got for today.  except that glee is new tonight.

10 november

i was positively honored, humbled, thrilled, choose-your-adjective when the kind folks at artful blogging contacted me about writing a piece about this blog for their magazine.

and i was positively amazed, floored, blown away when the magazine arrived in my mailbox a few weeks ago.  to see my photos and my words there, in print, on the pages of artful blogging (alongside so many wonderful bloggers - people i know, and people i'm thrilled to discover) - it was overwhelming, and more.

i have to admit that i felt shy reading my words there in the magazine.  that i read all of the other articles before i read my own.  that i waited whole weeks to share this here because i was feeling bashful.

but there it is, this lovely publication on my dining room table, reminding me about the beauty of blogs, of blogging.  reminding me of something i have long known - that it is an art form of its own, this sort of blogging that we do in our neighborhood.  reminding me about finding beauty in little things, capturing the simple moments of which our lives are comprised, celebrating the joy in the every day in an effort to invite more joy into the everyday.  reminding me why i love this space, why i love what i do, why i do what i do, why i am here.  i am humbled.

9 november

my kids had the day off from school today.  we took a little field trip with some dear friends, and along the way, a young friend - one who has known me her entire (ten years of) life - asked me, "what's your job?"

i kind of dread that question.  i have for a long time.  i never liked saying, "i'm a stay-at-home-mom."  i've never felt like a "stay-at-home-mom" - somehow that label never felt descriptive of what i do.  in fact, i've never felt like there was a label to describe what i am doing - actively raising children, making a home, creating a life.

but now there is this other bit.  the painting.  and if it was hard for me to say, "i'm a stay-at-home-mom," it's triply hard for me to say, "i'm an artist."  (i know.  we've been over this before.  unfortunately, i can't find alicia's post on the subject right now.)  i'm not sure what it would take for me to feel really comfortable saying, "i'm an artist" - maybe it's something that will just happen one day.  or maybe not.

in any case, this afternoon i responded, "i'm a painter."  (which is somehow easier for me to say.  why is this so complicated?)  and then my young friend asked, "do you get paid for that?"  how does she know, at ten, that getting paid for it makes it so.  and then i wonder, does getting paid for it make it so?  what does?

late this afternoon, i came home to find this post in my google reader.

my brother, who is a poet, once told me that some say you're only a poet during the time that you're actually writing a poem.  i wonder, is that true of a painter, too?  or is it possible that "artist" is what we are inside, all of us, searching for a way to express ourselves?  i wonder.

8 november

i was super excited when the folks at the gallery where i showed my work in may called me to ask if i would participate in their winter art market.  it's a big group show, local artists, the walls at the gallery are filled with paintings and photographs and lots and lots of lovely work.  i was honored, too, to be included on the postcard (see that bit of yellow green in the top right corner?  that's mine.  even though that particular painting isn't hanging in the show in the end!)  i have five small abstract paintings - part of my "window series" - hanging there now, through january.  if you're interested, you can contact gallery for availability and pricing.

in other news, i went back through the archives tonight, looking for something that i didn't find, but i did find this, which i had forgotten about entirely, and which makes me so happy.  even if i don't often write about my family here, even if i don't capture everything - or even close to everything, even if i'm not consistent about any of it, that conversation is there, recorded, captured, saved, like a little treasure.  makes me so happy.

7 november

we're celebrating a belated 10th birthday here tomorrow.  i was going to tell you all about it - about the party plans and the compromises involved and the learning curve that goes along with parenting a ten-year-old when you want him to grow up feeling independent and good about himself and his ideas, even when those ideas are not exactly what you would have chosen.  but i'm ex-hausted from this day, which included, among other things, dinner with dear friends, and the creation of a full-sheet ice cream cake with crushed cookies and buttercream frosting.  so i'm off to rest up before fifteen boys arrive at my doorstep tomorrow morning.  

ETA: goody bags inspired by courtney's halloween goody bags.  thanks to everyone who re-directed me to the source!  (and to courtney for being so clever!)

(does anybody remember who posted goodie bags like these recently?  plastic bags with treats, topped with personalized card stock like this.  i'd love to give credit where credit is due - it was a perfect solution for our goodie bags.)

6 november

it's been awhile since i've shared anything about habit in this space.  i've been thinking about it a lot lately - habit - since it's been almost a year since we began.  i've been thinking about the act of taking a photo of my everyday life, everyday (or almost everyday).  i've been thinking about the act of considering my day through a particular lens, about picking out a single moment, or a series of moments, and capturing that in just a few words.  i've been thinking about the record i'm creating of the tiny moments in my days.  i've been thinking about the days when i don't take a picture and how i almost feel, now, that those days are slipping through my fingers unaccounted for.  i've been thinking about how there are days when i have words, but no photo, and days when i have a photo, but the words escape me.  i've been thinking about how it is not just a recored of the tiny moments of my life that i'm creating, but also a collection of tiny moments from the lives of friends and strangers that i'm a part of, and about how there are women (and men and children, of course, too) all over this planet whose lives are filled with tiny moments every single day, and about how that reminds me that my life is so tiny in the scheme of the great big universe. 

i was peeking back through the archives tonight and thinking how terribly grateful i feel for this project.  for the record of the tiny moments of my life in this last year.  for the ability to see those moments within the context of so many other's tiny moments, and for the perspective that offers.  for the reminder that i am part of a community of women working to live considered lives.  for the habit of recording the tiny moments of my life.  for the way it makes me look at my life every day.  for my friend molly and her brilliance.  for all of the women who've shared tiny bits of their lives with us these past eleven months.  (there are three new guests this month, by the way.)  for all of the people who read habit everyday, and for those of you who send us lovely emails telling us how much the blog means to you.  terribly, terribly grateful.

in any case, this photo was an alternate from today.  some days there is only one photo, some days there are several, other days there are so many it's hard to choose.  today, there were two - this one, and the one you'll see over there tomorrow.

and now i'm six days into november and it appears that i'm doing it.  which means that i'll be back with something to say tomorrow, too.  i hope you're not too bored with me already, because it's only just the beginning.  happy weekend, friends.

5 november

i'm going to stop with the tumblr talk, i promise.  just humor me this one last time?  i'm assuming that you're mostly not on tumblr, or following me on tumblr (though if you are, will you tell me so i can follow you?) - so i just wanted to show you how pretty it looks over there.  it does look pretty, doesn't it?  and i thought i'd share a few goodies with you that i've shared over there, because they're so good.  then i'll shut up about it.  promise. 

ready?  here goes.

* go make these.  now.  they're so easy and so good.  dangerous, really.  but flourless.  (found via heather)

* this new-to-me clothing is so elegant, it takes my breath away.

* as does this photo of shari's.

* as well as this artist.

* and i'd like to live here.

* and i'd like for it to look like this inside.

see how good?

there.  i'm done.  i'll still be over there collecting more goodness, but tomorrow i'll be back here, with something else entirely.  and now i'm off to make this, by special request.