- Spring training

Retrospective (6/3/2016)

Patch #124 The Zilker Zephyr ...

Original Post

Back in Austin ...

takin' the Z-Train ...

The Zilker Zephyr

- Caught up

The long-promised yellow evening primrose finally got done ...

Patch #75

And since today was G day, I decided to do an orange take on a floodplain turkey track ...

Close up

When I asked G what he thought this was ...

Patch #76

He said, "A T. rex footprint." Well, that was close. It's actually lichen dyed linen reverse appliqued over rust dyed muslin. Either way, turkeys and dinosaurs are all part of the Texas experience.

Who me? Political?

P.S. You might live near a city if you play "traffic jam" with your train set ...

- Sugar coated

It was a (cochineal) pink day today ...

Patch #65

which is usually not my go-to color, but this cochineal linen patch was the perfect stand-in for the pink evening primroses (which bloom in the morning) along the ranch roads.

And what could be more sweet than a Disney movie complete with a bunny rabbit protagonist ...

Pre-movie chicken dancing (shoulda been the bunny hop)

This was my first time at one of the Alamo Drafthouse movie theaters in Austin, where every two seats share a table and they deliver your drinks and popcorn ...

What fun!

- Keeping well occupied: Updates on current projects

I've done a second dyeing run on indigo cloths destined to be a part of Hearts for Charleston ...

Thimble flower dyed over indigo cloth
after 24 hours of steeping in an alum and vinegar solution

Thinking I might have found the "missing ingredient" from the last thimble flower dye run that veered toward purple instead of the expected blue, I pre-mordanted this set of cloths with soy milk. To no avail ... they once again turned purple. So I'm accepting that's what is meant to be.

After these cloths spend another day in the sun and take a trip through the washer to remove allergens, I'll be moving on to the next step in creating the nine-by-nine strip cloth weaving: stitch.

While patiently waiting for the dyeing process to conclude, I finished the second building in the Austin Skyline cloth collage.  Linen side ...

and dyed-muslin side, to which I have pinned the cloth for the third building ...

Note: I'm giving up on designating which is the a-side and which is the b-side for now

Probably should have done this sooner, but here's a link to one of the skyline images I've been using as a guide for the project.

As noted earlier, I've also been working on turning over the partially decomposed compost heaps on the edge of the floodplain.  Realizing that the newly exposed soil was in danger of washing out during the heavy rainfalls we've been having, I began creating berms on the upstream side ...

And as I worked, I began to think of it as "the cactus corral" ...

Eventually the compost in the middle will be moved out to the edges, leaving a clear area for planting

With any luck, the protected area can be seeded with wildflowers that will turn this formerly weed and cactus-choked corner into a thing of beauty.

- Composting

This post is dedicated to Mo and Grace, who I first "met" last year when we were all taking Jude Hill's online course Considering Weave.

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We returned home from our week at the Outer  Banks to find our compost rows considerably diminished in height ...

25 inches of rain in less than two months probably helped, but the fact is that waiting twelve months for nature to do her thing didn't hurt either. Of course, it's not all decomposition as the cacti are determined to make a stand ...

but they are falling before the shovel as I turn over the rows ...

revealing the rich vegetal rot within ...

Compost was a subject that Grace and I pursued at some length last year,
culminating in the arrival of Underlying Order at Cascade Trail

Meanwhile, some newcomers remain undisturbed ...

Dayflower aka Widow's Tears

Antelope horns aka Milkweed (you can never have too many)

Texas Persimmon (I'm watching this closely to add to next month's dye pot)

I've also been plucking the last of the burgundy petals from the Mexican hats (aka Thimble flower or Prairie coneflower) in preparation for adding more blue to these nine bits of cloth ...

The bundles are destined to become a part of Dee Mallon's Hearts for Charleston, to which Mo is also contributing.

And while I wait for blue dye to happen, I'm continuing with the Austin skyline, first posted here. One building down and seven (maybe eight) to go. This is the side I'm stitching on, using the weave of the linen as a guide ...

A-side destined to become the B-side

But ultimately it is the back that will become the front, as the stitches marry with the dyed cloth strips to create a less formal union ...

B-side destined to become the A-side

At least that's the plan. I'm not sure I'm being clear on this, but it should become more apparent as each new building makes an appearance.

- What's next: Step one of the Austin Skyline

Recent dye trials ...

overlaid with an Austin city skyline printed on vellum

- Marking time

Don found a wonky piece of metal on our trip to Llano that has since become a clock for our back porch ...

He may embellish it further, but for now we'll enjoy it as is.

While he was putting the finishing touches on the the clock, I went in to check on my bread, which was a bit more exuberant than usual so I took a picture ...

And in looking at it, the little Kantha patch on the bread towel caught my eye ...

This towel gets used and laundered about once a week (which is why it had a hole in it to begin with), so I was pleased to see how well my mending from a year ago has held up ...

Last, but not least ... Don and I went to Austin yesterday to plant some feather grass, agaves, and Blackfoot daisies at our daughter's house in anticipation of it going on the market (anyone looking for a place in 78704?).

It's been exciting watching their new house go up, especially for two year old Griffin ...

So Don, aka PopPop, snagged some scrap wood and made "Griffin's house" to commemorate the framing of his soon-to-be new home ...

When G tried to open the door, which was glued on, he concluded, "It's locked ... need a key!"

All in good time, Griff.

- Sometimes dreams come true: Or, you can't win if you don't play

Here's an essay that I just submitted to the Central Market 20th Anniversary Contest in hopes of winning a culinary tour of France and Italy ... whether I win or not, it's all true!

I’m Going to Texas: A Foodie Fairy Tale 

Once upon a time, long ago (at the turn of the century) and faraway (in Virginia), I first heard tell of Central Market’s wonders when my husband began consulting in Fort Worth. He would come back to Williamsburg with tales of post-meeting sorties that left my mouth watering.

So I was happy indeed when daughter Meg moved to Austin, where I fell in love with Tortilla Soup from the Central Market Café on a hot summer day in August. Winding through the aisles, marveling at the produce and deli and bakery, I found my Foodie bliss … only to return to the East Coast and rue my fate.

Fast forward to the present: We now live in San Marcos and shop at both local HEB stores, which have many of the Central Market products we’ve come to love.  But I still have a special Central Market shopping list for our weekly trips to Austin, where I stock up on:

• Red boiler onions in Produce – just the right size to zing up Salad Days
• Fresh ground veal and pork in the Meat case – for mouthwatering Meatballs
• CM fresh ravioli next to the Sushi case – which gives new meaning to Leaving the Burg Leftovers
• 5 grain cereal, rolled oats, maple syrup, and coconut flakes from the Bulk Foods section – for the best homemade Granola when combined with …
• CM Arbosana olive oil – a balanced blend of fruit and bitterness, with a gentle hit of pepper for the back of the palate or …
• CM Virgin Coconut Oil – which also makes killer popcorn
• CM organic pasta – capellini so fine it cooks in only three minutes, for a fast dinner go-to
• White Shoyu soy sauce – so delicately flavored it makes sushi sing
• Pasture-raised eggs in the Dairy case– for the lightest, airiest Popovers and Cakes
• CM flour tortillas– freshly made, they are requested by our hosts when we travel to the Midwest and East Coast (along with Salt Lick Chipotle Bar-B-Que Sauce)
• Italian white bread from the Bakery  – perfect for Crème Brulée French Toast … if it survives the dinner bread basket
• Castelvetranos from the Olive Bar – so perfectly brined you can’t eat just one
• Speck (smoked prosciutto) – a Deli case delight that sparks up pastas and salads alike
• Shredded Gruyère from the Cheese case – a wintertime wonder for Onion Soup and Gougères* (light puffs of butter, egg, flour  and cheese)

Central Market even carries Williamsburg Peanut Shop peanuts – for a little taste of what-used-to-be-home.

Of course, the list keeps growing as we encounter new Foodie Finds from Alfajores (buttery cookies sandwiched around dulce de leche) to Chiles (CM Hatch Green Chile Salsa Roja and CM Hatch tortilla chips), all ably accompanied by libations from local brews to worldly wines.

It’s no wonder we’re living happily ever after!

- Waffles Four Ways

I just spent the past four days with four guys in the house ... three of them imports from Stonehouse Elementary School in Williamsburg, come to check out the Texas Hill Country. Don took Mark, Scott, and Jeff to Austin and beyond, averaging two bands a night while they liberally sampled the local beverages, braved the heat of various chili peppers, ate all the barbecue a body could hold at the Salt Lick, watched the bats fly out from under the Congress Street Bridge, climbed Mount Bonnell, and ... well, you get the idea.

Austin trailer-made breakfast tacos and migas made a particularly big impression, so I was under heavy pressure to come up with an impressive final meal this morning. Fortunately, I went to Brookshire Brothers last night with a notion to get some fried chicken to go with waffles. Better than chicken, I found poblano sausage made on-site by Norman, who is our local butcher par excellence. Don fired up the grill in order to bring out the best in the beef, pork, and cumin-laced links. Meanwhile, I prepped a couple of quarts of strawberries, nuked some hot fudge sauce, and whisked up some waffles.

Waffles used to be a regular weekend offering in the Ackert household. Made with a quarter pound of butter per batch and tricked out in Haagen Dasz vanilla ice cream and hot fudge, they were pretty popular ... until we found out that Don's cholesterol level had climbed into the upper stratosphere. So it was nice to have an excuse to put them back on the table.  Besides, there are no calories in Texas, at least not when you're on vacation.

In the end, I gave the guys a choice of waffles four ways: with fried chicken and maple syrup, poblano sausage and agave nectar (with thanks to Meliss for introducing us to its subtle sweetness), ice cream and strawberries, or ice cream and hot fudge sauce. When I asked them what they wanted, the answer was, "Yes."

Wimberley Waffles

1/4 pound melted butter 
2 eggs
2 cups milk (whole milk, preferably)
Bisquick

Melt the butter by nuking it for a minute.  Whisk the eggs and milk together.  Then whisk in the butter and just enough Bisquick to make a thin batter.

My waffle iron takes exactly 2 minutes and 40 seconds to make the perfect waffle ... but you'll need to experiment with batter and times until you hit what works best for you.  This recipe yields a light, crisp waffle that is best eaten hot off the iron.  Just keep 'em comin' and don't be worrying about leftovers.

- A Midwinter Night’s Dream: Christmas in Austin

I made the mistake of saying that moving to Texas had gotten us out of the house more than we used to in Williamsburg. “So you want to go to the free concert in Zilker Park tomorrow night?” Don asked.

“Umm, well … I guess so,” was my lukewarm reply. After all, it was Sunday night and we had just returned from Austin, where Meg and I had taken in Ballet Austin’s Nutcracker matinee. Christmas was only five days away and I had a long list of things to do.

None-the-less we called Meg and Paul to see if we could bring dinner in exchange for use of their guest room the following night, and invited them to join us at the concert … on a work night, no less. “You don’t really have to come,” I offered. But come they did, with Meg observing that they probably wouldn’t have made it of their own volition (such is the power of newcomers to inspire a reawakened awareness of one’s environs).

On a cool Austin evening, we joined the long line of cars queuing into Zilker Park, drawn by the tree of lights and the promise of free entertainment by Asleep at the Wheel, with a hoped-for guest appearance by Shawn Colvin.


There were throngs of people and a festive air, enlivened by the heady aroma of kettle corn and the flickering lights of toy swords purchased from vendors and wielded by tiny hands. After listening to the music for awhile, Meg suggested we walk through the light displays, which were scaled back from years past.  Not that I would have known. It was a Grand Illumination, Texas style.

We walked into a wonderland, greeted by Maurice Sendak’s Max,

 

an armadillo rodeo,

  

Mother Goose's cow jumping over the moon,

 and a vision of the Austin skyline straight out of the Jetsons.

I'm thinking Logan would have loved every bit of it.

Wearied at last, we trekked back to the car as the Frost Tower glimmered in the distance ... making our way to warm beds, to sleep, perchance to dream.

- Urban Impression: Austin

Even though I’ve always said that I wouldn’t want to live in a city, Don and I agreed to spend the week at Meg and Paul’s condo in south Austin while they soak up some sun on the Mexican coast. They think we’re here to take care of Katie, their Jack Russell Terrier whose recent brush with glaucoma left her with one eye and a perpetually saucy wink. But the truth is we’re having a blast living the vida urbana, if only for a little while.

Yesterday we headed to the Sunset Valley Farmers Market, one of several locavore haunts in Austin. Fresh arugula, cucumber, tomatoes, and onions made their way into my mesh bag, while we made note of the turnips, pecans, and sweet potatoes that we’ll return for next week in anticipation of Thanksgiving. While there, we sampled some maple-flavored “Dad’s Granola,” which was good, but not better than our Garrison Trail granola blend.  We really should go into the Wholey Granoley biz one of these days. And I actually managed to avoid the kettle corn stand, although hunger pangs ultimately drove us to stop at Chuy’s (pronounced chewies) for lunch … a good thing, as it resulted in a mental note to add grilled corn to my tortilla soup recipe.

Wanting to sample the joys of urban exercise, we headed to Zilker Park, which has recovered from last month’s ACL mud bath, the Dillo Dirt now back under the turf where it belongs. As we drove into the park, a lone guitarist stood far out in the middle of a grassy field, playing to the sun. We picked a parking lot close to Lady Bird Lake and stepped out to join the flow of humanity that was walking, running, and riding by.

Austin has an abundance of hiking trails that appear to be in constant use by a staggering number of people. Averaging about ten feet across, we found the Zilker Park trails to be simple, hard-packed earth with the occasional paved section. Slower walkers-and-talkers stayed to the right, the better to be passed on the left by power walkers, joggers, runners, and cyclists. This was people watching at its finest, with every age, color, and body-type imaginable, some more amply represented than others.

There were parents pushing jogging strollers occupied by children who mostly looked perplexed, pregnant moms-to-be taking their soon-to-be newborns for a virtual walk, rock-hard running fanatics gliding effortlessly by, and less-fit wannabes trudging on with expressions of grim determination. Many were scantily attired and/or shirtless, revealing flesh moving in ways most strange. Many more were branded, some with tattoos, others with t-shirts. Burnt orange longhorns held sway, although a Duke blue devil tee did make a surprise appearance. At one point, three women strolled by in skirts, clutching handbags and looking totally incongruous. And if the constant stream of cyclists flew by too quickly to make any impression, the slow, deliberate passage of the halt and the lame imbued them with a touching aura of grace.

Then there were the dogs, every bit as diverse as their owners, from a black teacup poodle to a show quality St. Bernard. A few were muzzled and all were leashed as they scurried, limped, and trotted along, some making their own sartorial statements --a black chow with a yellow Cub Scout neckerchief, a tongue-lolling German shepherd with a peace sign bandana-- and a surprising number sporting bags of poo dangling from their leashes.

Indeed the trails were remarkably clean, with virtually no waste to step over; the only litter a soft shoulder of fallen leaves that cushioned our steps while the overhanging branches sheltered us from the strong sun. Water fountains and trash barrels made discrete appearances at regular intervals, as did benches placed at strategic overlooks, the better to watch the kayaks, canoes, and rowing shells that plied the waters below. And in one spot where the trail dropped down to the water’s edge, families and ducks concentrated on the age-old delight of feeding and being fed.

Returning to Zilker this morning, the trail was every bit as fascinating. I avoided the previous day’s digital edema by grabbing two small, flat stones at the outset of our walk, keeping my fingers curled around the cool limestone cradled in each palm. And one fleeting hour later, reluctantly exiting from the stream of humanity, I spotted a tow-headed tot riding high on his father’s shoulders. Our eyes locked, and as we passed our heads turned to hold the gaze, both of us grinning from ear to ear.