In Bloom: Raspberries

The seasons first batch of raspberries are here! My in-laws brought me over a huge bowl of raspberries straight from the garden. 

Fresh Raspberries

They are delicious. Tart and sweet. In a word: perfect. I made some of  them into these lovely little muffins. Perfect for breakfast! 

Raspberry and Pistachio muffins

I still had a lot left over so I made some raspberry lemonade. Tonight I might add a little vodka or Prosecco for an aperitivo drink. 

Raspberry lemonade if it was warm she wouldn't drink much more...

Poppin’ the clutch

The other day M and I were out and about we we saw the new Volkswagen Scirocco. So new and shinny I couldn’t help but think of my first car. My silver 1981 Scirocco. I loved that car. My step-dad had bought the car for me for $800.00. The previous owner was a young guy who he had worked with. It had this all the way across rear view comprised of about 30 little slanted mirrors.  I still don’t understand that. So it was a little tricked out but I didn’t care. I had my first car. That first day I  took down the crazy rear view and put back the original, cleaned it out and found enough change to put the first tank of gas in it. Gas was about 95 cents per gallon then. I still remember the smell of the VW vinyl and the way it shined after a few sprays of Armor All. It was perfection. But I wasn’t allowed to drive it yet. It needed a new battery.

Okay, so I am 16 and I have this sporty coup sitting in the driveway and nothing to do…. well you can guess what happened next. The teenage years are so funny, you think that you know everything. And at 16 I thought that I was ready to drive this car no matter who said what. Everyone was at work and I was bored the car needed to be driven. I mean there was no other choice. So I called my friend SE told her about the dead battery and she suggested that I go ask my neighbor CB to help. He knew about cars why not.

I am not exactly sure on the sequence of events but eventually it came to us poppin’ the clutch. If you can imagine two sixteen year-old pushing this car up our shared driveway.  CB was 6 foot with a white blond mullet who drove a muscle car so I am sure that he was probably wearing some kind of tank top and me I had some sort of pre Hallee Barry short hair and the girl grunge thing going on. It was the early 90’s and we were both rocking the style. So we are pushing this car up the hill and to be fair to CB I think at one point he asked me if this was a good idea. Of course it is!

 Finally we were at the top and I jumped in. He gave the car a push and I popped the clutch and off I went. I drove around the back roads of that small Minnesota town and it was heaven, a freedom that I had never had. Just me and the car and the radio. That first drive in your first car. Unforgettable. Mine more so because I ended up crashing it later that day. Sigh. No one was hurt thankfully but the Scirocco was totaled and that was the end of my freedom.

The totaled car sat in our driveway for a long time. It was painful lesson learned. Hopefully getting my Italian drivers license won’t be as painful.

1981 Scirocco- exactly like mine. Pre crash.

She went what way?

After many stops and starts I finally found my place career wise at 30; I finally found advertising.  It was fun and fast and always changing. I was surrounded by amazing people: designers, writers and just about everyone else involved in the process offered inspiration. The office manager for one agency I worked for is the most amazing artists. I own two of her pieces. A certain production manger has a painting that I would love to have if only she’d sell it. Too many beautiful photos to list them all and some of the best talks I have ever had over cheap beer.  They inspired me and I had found my nitch.

But now I am here in Italy and feeling a little uninspired. I know what you thinking. People go to Italy to be inspired. Yes that is true. There is quite a lot around me that is inspiring. I spend a lot of my time saying wow and looking with wonder. But what I am lacking is direction. 

It’s true that I have a ton of free time now. Yet all this free time has not inspired me to finish the blanket that I have been working on for over a year now but has given me a lot of time to think and so far I have come up with this;  I like to touch and feel things. I love the way books smell, the feel of fabrics and  the texture of ceramic, metals and natural things. I like my music lush and with emotion.  I am obsessed by all the design, photograhy and art blogs.  I love well put together magazines like Dwell. I enjoy the texture of the pages just as much as the photos and the articles.  I guess I am what you call a tactile person. I need to feel it. In all aspects of my life.  

Okay, that’s great but what the hell do you do with that? I mean really? What is my new career objective? I like to touch stuff? Professional Browser? 

I’d like to see myself having a fabulous ETSY store but the reality is that I am a slow knitter, as mentioned above, and my skills are not that great in any of my many craft endeavours. Believe me I have done most every craft out there from stamping to jewelry making; good enough for family gifts and personal use but nothing anyone would buy that is for sure. There are so many things that interest me that I am finding it hard to put a  fine point on it.  I do know that they fall in the creative realm. I’d list them all for you but you’d probably think I was having a midlife crisis or at least a case of  AADD. 

So now what?  I can keep filing my days with my casalinga duties,walking the dog and blog surfing until I find my direction but truth be told I am starting to climb the walls. Maybe I need to order a copy of  What Color Is Your Parachute.  If only there was a book called N This Is What You Should Do Now. That would be really helpful.

Delicious

Last weekend we finally picked the cherries! M and I climbed the tree and picked away. I hadn’t climbed a tree in forever. It really felt like a treat to be climbing a tree barefoot on a sunny day. An even bigger treat was the pie that I made later on that night.  I never knew how long three hours could be. Waiting for this pie to cool was torture, but well worth the wait. 

My first homemade cherry pie.

Almost In Bloom: Cherries

Cherries are almost ready….

 

Life is just about to be a bowl full of cherries

I ate this one. I just couldn't wait.