Summer on a plate

I made olive oil-maple granola this morning to top this peak-of-summer ripe peach. So good. 

Enjoyed it with iced oolong tea.

I started with this recipe maybe 14 years ago and have tweaked it along the way, initially swapping  walnuts instead of pecans and reducing the maple syrup to a half-cup (those are my standards now). Also standard: start with a teaspoon of Morton's kosher salt in the slurry. It's tempting to add more but I resist (most of the time). Today I considered adding Malden salt crystals to my bowl but held off. Salt and sweet is almost irresistible so I rein in that tendency early in the process.

Other experiments include reducing or omitting the oatmeal, adding hemp hearts, sesame seeds, almonds, or [salted] pistachios, reducing the brown sugar by a third (that maybe a new rule from today forward).

I'm always trying to find a way to make the granola clump so I can eat it out of hand. I've added egg white, used more slurry, varied the baking-stirring method. No satisfactory clumps yet, but it's always delicious.

This seems to be almost universally enjoyed. One year for a charity fundraiser, I sold a quart jar of granola for $20. It probably could/should have been more.

Here's a link to the original recipe: 

https://food52.com/recipes/15831-nekisia-davis-olive-oil-maple-granola

It's come to this...

I decided to hide from the Nightmare to get things done around the house. 

Progress on the Nightmare

It is slow-going on the Nightmare. And still, it is completely absorbing. 

I started another puzzle

It is diabolical.  A real Nightmare in 1000 irregular grayscale pieces corralled by a sort of - but not really - round border. 

D'oh!

 

 I was cleaning up the table to arrange the puzzle for admiration when someone flipped the edge of the tablecloth, jumbling the corner. 

So, I guess it's not quite done yet.

Ta-da!

RIP  David Hockney.

 

I turned this puzzle out on June 13 when I heard David Hockney had passed.  Then I listened to, watched, or read  tributes, interviews and remembrances while I sorted and pieced.

It was a joy to learn more about the man, the artist and this work.

Well, today is July 30 and I finally completed the puzzle! It was fun and a labor of sorts but well worth the time and effort.

I'm no David Hockney but I like to think there is a ginormous photo collage in me. I just need to find my subject landscape and kick off the project.

This collage supposed includes fragments of 750 prints. I think I heard that he created 3000 images over 10 days to distill to the final collection. That was 1986 - before digital cameras were accessible.

That's a lot of shutter clicks.

Peach for dessert

From Del Bosque Farm in Firebaugh.

 

Home again

Tent parts and sleeping bag hanging out after our trip to Yosemite and the Redwoods. 

Joan

323-828-8334 

First meal

Sunday breakfast was my first meal back at home. 

So nice to be in my own kitchen and to have fresh farmers market provisions.

The beautiful heirloom tomato and Gaia melon were found at Del Bosque (Organics) Farm's stand outside the town of Firebaugh (in Fresno County, just off I-5). The brilliant eggs came from Menos Organics Farm (Riverside, by way of the Beverly Hills Farmers Market). The avocado and sourdough bread traveled home with me from Redding.

Also a pleasure to have my pal Vaughn with me for breakfast. By coincidence Vaughn was featured in a previous post from Yosemite.Valley.

Joan

323-828-8334 

Posting this late because I could not find it in my camera roll.

I need to have quick access to show it off!

Joan

323-828-8334 

The hard part...

What's left is the sky.... and the white edges that don't make sense!

Progress on Pearblossom Highway

I like the way this looks - a bit deconstructed. Well, maybe more than a bit...

Another Phone Post

David Hockney tribute

Pearblossom Highway #2 in 1000 pieces on my dinette table.

Listening to interviews with David Hockney while putting it back together. 

What a creative, undaunting mind. 

Homely photos

I make a homely photo each time I reformat the memory cart in one of my digital cameras. These are just quick snapshots - scenes around the house or out the window or in the garden. One shutter click and a quick peek to confirm that the card is working and that the image is the only one in memory. 
This is a particularly nice homely photo because it has some personal treasures. The scene is the pendulum box of my grandparents' clock, where over the years I have collected this and that: a photo of Kate the dog in the yard on Cashio Street, a "genko" leaf print made by my young nephew, a now-cracked Pyrex custard cup that held a little kerosene when the clock hung in Grandma Jones's kitchen, the clock key close at hand, one of Alice's handmade angels bearing an American flag, a sheet of  Saguaro National Park patches gifted by a dear friend. I don't remember how three 10¢ postage stamps appeared here but I suspect I just needed a place to store the surplus stamps and since they bear a clock face...

Each homely photo becomes my virtual backstop. On a busy day in the field, I can scroll through a collection of fresh captures and when I arrive at the homely photo, I know I'm home. Sometimes it's a klinker and just tells me to stop scrolling. But when the photo is a satisfying image, it becomes a comfort and I'm back home on Cashio Street. 

In Janet's garden

A butterfly in the making!

 

Out and About in LA90035

Tree shadow like lace on the concrete sidewalk on my walk home.

 

LA90035

I was afraid I'd missed the Matilija Poppies in the neighborhood while I was visiting Yosemite but they're here now! 

 

Where are my shoes?

They are everywhere. 

Next to the bed, maybe I stepped out of them to tuck in for the night.

In front of the bed where I apparently left them as I undressed (and possible donned some other footwear). In front of the closet door. Really? Did I open the closet and choose a different pair?

A pair of sandals is understandably under my desk in the living room. I slipped them off while working there and padded around barefoot. I don't remember but I bet when my feet got cold, I went into the bedroom and slipped into something to warm my feet up again.

This is what living alone for 42 years looks like. 

It happened again

Every year in January, these sweet, tiny hardenbergia flowers on our back fence grab my attention. 

2026 is here

I'm eating black-eyed peas, brown rice, and spicy collard greens for good luck, prosperity and good health. 

I'm good to go in the new year.