Garibaldis and scraps

Today I made the promised Garibaldis. It's pretty simple, a fairly short pastry folded over raisins. Because Gs are rectangular, there are edge bits left after you trim the pastry. I didn't bother reshaping them, just rolled out, pricked with a fork,  brushed with egg white and sprinkled sugar as with the Garibaldis and they're sort of crunchy plain cookies. 

Left, the proper raisin-filled things, right, the scraps. They're all pretty good, crunchy and fruity. I used whole-wheat flour rather than the ap of the recipe. 

I think any sweet pastry brushed with egg white and sprinkled with sugar would be fine even if there weren't any raisins. I expect plenty of people do this. Is there a name for them? The scraps not the people.

Thinking about Ash and what they reminded me of, including whatever you do for or with or in defense of any population, she reminded me to please check with the person in front of you if that's okay by them. They're in charge of that decision.

I did check at the Russian invasion of Ukraine, on Twitter to find whether daily shoutouts in this blog were welcome or appropriate and every Ukrainian who replied said do it, so we know we're not forgotten as time goes on. So I have, as you may have noticed.

Now here's my question to my gay, lesbian, trans, readers, if you would be so kind as to educate me on this point. 

Am I being helpful in my daily shoutouts about equality, or is it a bit performative? This might be something for email, in which case, please let me know that way. Ell ex ex adams at yahoo dot com.

On this specific issue I am not asking for opinions from cis people, so bear with me on this. I'd like it to be a case of "nothing about us without us", and I may have overstepped.  And there may be a range of opinions, too, so I'll study them and see what's next. Thank you.

Happy day everyone. There was a massive crowd of crows all over the roof today, why, why? Is it a portent?

I've found the best sleep aid ever. I usually run an audiobook quietly while I drop off, and I recently stumbled on revenge fiction, ai and terrible stilted voices, pointless plots. 

I'm off within minutes. I think my brain shuts down in protest and revs up the dream machine instead. I'm dreaming weaving lately, very peaceful.

Misfits, art, shrimp and treachery

Today a friend came over to pick out an artwork. A hiccup here and there with the timing, but she got here before I had to attend to the groceries.

We had a lovely visit and she went home with a stitched piece, or nue (provide your own acute accent) and stump work, butterflies and moths on a black silk ground printed with metallic copper paint.

It includes a Luna moth which has a special significance for her daughter. She'll send a picture when she hangs it.

Meanwhile I did the stitching on the fronts of the linen jacket, which I like a lot more now.

More stitching might happen. 

Then Jeff arrived with the Misfits box.

The last image is a true still life. As you know, the still life is about the short trajectory from youth to maturity to death and decay. 

Green bananas youth, ripe apples maturity, last week's overripe plums near decay.  No dead pheasants, favorite of old European painters. 

Anyway here's the week's Misfits selection. Sad news, I had splurged on a Tony's Chocolonely, and it was, sob, unavailable. 

However there's Bananaz, cans to share with the food pantry, lovely Envy apples, crisp and juicy, beautiful yellow tiny potatoes to be perfect roasted with the chicken thighs.

Yogurt and honey, desserts, raisins for snacks or maybe baking. Maybe I'll bake Garibaldis with them. It's a raisin filled pastry known to school kids as flies'  cemetery, moving along.. fair trade organic sugar supporting the good guys, mixed green salad. 

To the right, a pan of Cajun shrimp cooking, thanks to Sandra for a terrific recipe. One thing and another I didn't get rice organized, but it was a good lunch with a green salad, so it worked.  

The shrimp were small though the recipe wanted large, but you go to lunch with the shrimp you have, and this was great.

I had to make a Cajun spice mix, not hard, I had all the ingredients, and this is now a go-to for shrimp. And those chicken thighs too, I now think. 

And my reading is 

About Jane Boleyn, sister-in-law and lady-in-waiting to Anne Boleyn.  Back to the Tudor court.

Speaking of horror movies, I caught a Xerces Society online presentation about pollinators and all kinds of insects and arachnids. Those guys lead a brutal life. 

However, the society has a very undemanding approach to its members' observation practice

See the first recommendation!

And, this one's, seriously, a life and death issue, please go here and listen. 

Ash is a wonderful trans person, brilliant costume designer, historian, fearless defender of every human right, and they've just put out this compilation of videos full of knowledge, suggestions, lived experience and high value.  One thing they suggested for cis people was to spread this information, hard earned, on whatever platforms we can. On it, Ash!

 

I've followed them for years for their historical knowledge, clothes design -- made a couple of skirts based on their information -- and for their killer sense of humor. They're also kind and forbearing when people mean well and say the wrong thing. Anyway, it's long, so get a cup of tea or a piece of stitching and listen. There's stuff to see, too,but the words are vital.

Happy day everyone, full one around here, and now for tea and Gregory on the deck.

Cleaners, flowers, calligraphy and Othello

Bright morning with raindrops sparkling everywhere, and the sun shining through the honesty pods. Daisies and daylilies starting. That's the thistle that invited himself in. I was hoping for a flower, but maybe not.

The cleaners were scheduled this morning so I got a ride to buy vitamin D which I'm suddenly out of, wow, that's gone up in price. 

Then to the library, where my ride departed and I had lunch and a gallery view, Chinese calligraphy by a local trio of artists.

The library is also currently asking for input on better use of the space, new ideas. I put my stickers on like a good patron.

And a couple of men arrived and set up a board game, I think Othello.

It's a good community center, all kinds of activities going on every day. 

Home soon to a clean house. Good, because a friend is coming by tomorrow to pick an artwork and it's nice if it's clean. My house doesn't get very dusty, but I like it newly cleaned. Especially now the allergy season seems to have started and anything sets me sneezing and tearing and itching.

Happy day everyone, I clearly don't have much to complain about, if I'm down to allergies and the price of vitamins. I hope your day is as good.

Ironing, comedy of errors and Textiles and Tea

Too tired today for the knitting group after yesterday's exertions combined with the allergy season. So when my ride texted this morning, setting up the pickup I texted back saying not today. She also asked if Thursday would be good to pick up an artwork, and I said fine.

This surprised me because last week she'd said July at the earliest. Fine by me. Then when I was talking to her later today she was puzzled. Thursday? You mean next week? Clearly had forgotten it was her idea. Hm.

Then I got on with some sleeping, then dishes and picking up before the cleaners come tomorrow, and was just ironing this afternoon when I heard the doorbell. And a knock. And a little voice calling, asking are you okay. 

I heaved a sigh and went down to find my friend anxiously calling and worrying in the front hall. Evidently my text never got there, so she concluded when I wasn't ready and waiting, that something terrible must have happened. 

The extent to which people are convinced I'm going to keel over if they're not right there is amazing.  I can't take a nap without someone thinking I've gone. It's very kind of them, if a bit unrealistic, considering my health is better than the people worrying. 

Anyway she finally left after making sure I was as fine as I said I was. And we had the odd convo about Thursday. I wonder if her memory's slipping, I need to tread carefully there. And I resumed the ironing since I was on a roll.

That's done for the foreseeable future.

Textiles and Tea featured the wonderful weaver artist 

She's part indigenous, part Mexican, started life picking in the fields, crossing the border frequently as her undocumented father needed to work and flee.

 

Her weaving, mixing fine linens and wool with barbed wire,  honors the history of her people and the suffering inflicted on them by racism and borders. She is now a tenured professor at San Jose SU. What a trajectory.

Here are rebozos honoring mothers including the Virgen de Guadalupe 

This piece is the moon and honors her father's love for the moon with mist over it

Three heroes in fiber 

Joan of Arc, with folds and softness 

This is the border and the vegetation around it

There two are the Mexican and American flags blended and combined in the hope of erasing artificial boundaries 

I love this piece because it has a frame loom. Her father used to weave on one, and this piece honors his life and struggles.

She's a great person as well as a great artist, and has fought to get fiberarts recognized as art, not consigned to the lesser category of craft.

To have risen from being a ten year old crop picker working in the fields with her family to being a tenured academic professor is an almost unbelievable feat. 

She's aware of that but not too impressed because she's looking ahead not back, now working on her Celestial series about the planets.

Happy day everyone, what a privilege to see this marvelous woman today.