My Bit of Earth

Further Mulberry Discussions

Mulberry syrup and tonic water.  As I was snapping away, Moe decided to come take a sniff.

Yes, I got my mulberries--a small vat of them, from my Very Sweet Co-Worker.  Some went to make gin--which will be more purple than pink, next summer, from the looks of it.  But I cooked down about half the berries to make a super concentrated mulberry syrup.  (I followed these directions, except that I used a 1:1 ratio of berries to sugar, instead of 1:2.)  

While the syrup will shine on pancakes, it's also not bad to mix for drinking.  Apparently, a teaspoon of mulberry syrup served in a glass of water is a traditional Lebanese summer drink called "Sharab El Toot".  Not only is that a little fun to say, it's pretty darn refreshing, as well.

Here's to a lovely long weekend with lots of cool drinks!

[P.S. I've been remiss in announcing the winner of the stationery.  It's Sharm's Outlet!  I will be in touch about getting you your prize.]

Prayers in the Breeze

In our hippie town, it's common to see Tibetan prayer flags strung across front porches.  I think I read somewhere once that the idea is, each time the wind blows, the prayer is carried up.  That feels a bit hokey to me--although, perhaps no more hokey than lighting a candle, which people commonly do--but I've always viewed the flags as more of a sign of good thoughts and wishes and hopes, flittering in the breeze and spreading good.  (Looks like Wikipedia sort of agrees with me, for what it's worth.)

Although I didn't set out to make it that way, when I finished with this summer's banner in our back yard, it reminded me a lot of a strip of prayer flags.  I was sitting outside this evening--a little sore in the spirit, if truth be told--and I began assigning some of them. 

One for me to learn to curb my salty language before the Kid starts to parrot it.

One for my nose to just un-stuff already.

One to be as good a partner to Sweet Husband as he is to me.

A few for some clients in need of judicial miracles.

Several for all of our friends who are getting married and having babies and making new homes this summer.

One for a longstanding dream that's painfully close.

Two for two newer ones that are, as yet, pipe dreams.

One in thanks for Bonnie the Buckeye's beautiful orange-yolked eggs, as well as those of her sisters.

One in thanks that Bonnie the Buckeye hasn't killed one of the Indigo Girls yet.

I went on and on like that, through the better part of the banner.

I don't know that it ultimately made me feel better--only NyQuil can do that at this point, I'm afraid--but I don't think it ever hurts to remind the universe at large, as well as yourself, of all the things you're grateful for and all the things you hope for.

 

A Helpful Hydration Hint

I often struggle with what to drink.  We purposely don't keep soda or sugary drinks in the house, but I'm not a big fan of milk.  And while I'm always up for a cocktail or a coffee in spirit, sometimes one needs to just say no.  

Which leaves water--very good, thirst quenching, but...well, it kinda gets boring.  Until now.

Inspired by a few sprigs of leftover mint, half a lemon, and this herbal sun tea post I saw on pinterest, last weekend, I concocted my first flavored water.

I rinsed out an old wine bottle and filled it up about half way with lemon and mint.  Then I filled it with hot water and let it sit for...oh, the better part of an afternoon.  Once it was done steeping, I strained the water into a jar and chilled it in the fridge.

The resulting drink was a little strong, but--at the brilliant suggestion of Sweet Husband--I've been using it as a concentrate.  Mixed with plain water, I like it at about a 1:1 ratio.  It's also really good mixed with tonic water for something a bit fizzier.  

I predict I'll be staying very hydrated this summer as I experiment with different combinations of herbs!

Buzzing About Bees

Saturday night, I took a beekeeping class.

I didn't think--and that belief was reinforced--that we would be ready for a hive this year.  Our backyard is not small, but it's not acreage.  And while I don't believe urban beekeeping is inherently dangerous, having a toddler about (who can't be allergy tested until he's two and is just barely starting to understand the difference between his mama's "annoyed" no and her "I've-spent-too-many-sleepless-night-raising-you-to-let-you-kill-yourself-now" no) adds an element of risk I'm just not ready for.

But I wanted to take the class anyway, just to see how I would do.  I've never had an experience like that before--opening a hive, remaining calm while working with tens of thousands of potentially stinging insects--so I wasn't sure if I'd like it or not.  I figured it was better to know now if I was totally going to freak out, rather than mooning over hives and bee catalogs for another year first.

The verdict?  This was the coolest thing I have done in a very long time!  

All suited up--in a veil, gloves, long pants, and long sleeves--I felt very safe.  And once the safety concerns are out of the way, bees are so incredibly fascinating!

Acting on instinct and at the direction of their queen, they do everything just as it needs to be done to ensure their survival.  From the lifespan of a worker (the oldest ones are the foragers, that way they die outside the hive and don't have to be carried out), to the treatment of drones (freeloaders that get kicked out when the food stores get low)--each behavior has a specific purpose.

A couple who was taking the class with me were actually taking bees home that evening, so part of the class was making a "split" (turning one hive into two) for them.  In order to ensure that they were getting a functioning hive, a "Where's Waldo?" type game of find-the-queen ensued.  (Fun fact:  A queen lays about 2000 eggs a day, which are needed to replenish the hive population.  Without a queen, a hive can die pretty quickly.)

The hive we were working was a bit of a mess.  According to our teacher, the frames weren't spaced correctly in the fall, so the bees had built comb in places they shouldn't have.  However, it was a very healthy hive nonetheless, completely teeming with bees.

By the time we were done with the hands-on part of the class, I was enjoying watching a few bees climbing on my veil.  I couldn't figure out how to take a picture without risking a bee inside my veil, but I was literally eye-to-eye with them.  I've never had a chance to study a bee that closely before.

And, of course, the class ended with a sweet treat--honey, fresh from the hive.  

It was an awesome class.  While it won't happen this year--and we're still "waiting and seeing" about next--some time soon, I will have bees.  If you'll forgive the pun, I've believe I've been stung!

Isola's Letter Writing Club: How Does Your Garden Grow?

I don't remember how it came up--I may have completely brought it up on my own, in fact--but last month I ended up writing my pen pal a few paragraphs about my garden.  I could have gone on and on, but mid-letter it occurred to me, "I don't know if she's a gardener or not...."  So--with promises not to bore her about tomatoes and squash for the rest of the summer if she is not, of course--I asked, pretty point-blank, "Are you a gardener?".  I haven't thought what I'll write about all summer if she is not, but surely something else has to be going on in my life, right?

In that vein, for this month's writing prompt, do you garden?  If so, what's growing for you right now?  If not, what are your other favorite things to do when the weather starts to get warm?

And while we're on the "garden" theme, I have another pretty stationery giveaway for you all!  This month's giveaway is from MaiAutumn, an Etsy shop with lovely watercolors, jewelry, and stationery.  The randomly chosen winner will receive eight of the pink thistle cards pictured above.  To enter, just leave a comment below.  I'll pick a winner Wednesday evening.  (Reminder: you don't have to be part of the letter writing club to enter!) 

And please do go check out MaiAutumn--her watercolor birds just beautiful!