Weeks Are For Living

I can't help leaving this blog in the dust lately.
We've been busy living life.
(And I may be reading a few too many addictive books.)

I tried making some homemade turtles recently. 

We visited the greenhouse that was one of my first part-time jobs 14ish years ago.  Of course, we couldn't visit a greenhouse without bringing some green home with us. 

I've scaled down my herb garden to three pots from the nearly 30 that I'd been maintaining for the last two years.

I wish you could smell this.  It's one of my most favorite smells, Rosemary.  

And I couldn't exactly make the pesto my husband loves without a few basil plants.

And then my little cilantro friend.

It is also the season for these little delights, to my great joy.

We've been making a lot of rye bread lately.  It's addictive.

We've also planted our entire garden (and outdoor container garden.)

Michael has been reworking his rain water barrel system and building me a new clothesline, since we chopped down the tree the old one was attached to.  This time I get a 4-wire clothesline instead of a 2-wire clothesline.  (You're supposed to "ooh" and "ahhh" at that.)

We've reworked our budget so that we'll be rid of college debt in a little over 2 years, if we can stick to some restrictions, which really aren't altogether too constraining.  (Out of debt would mean a larger "bit of earth" and house for our growing family would be well within our grasp.)

And lastly, but certainly not least, it's the dawning of the age of... homemade ice cream.