Cinnamon Raisin Almond Butter

Almonds and I have a bit of a love-hate relationship. The love: I enjoy them by themselves as a snack, in my granola, in a snack bar, mixed in my oatmeal—those instances where they get to shine and be their independent little almond selves.

But the hate: I have yet to find an almond milk that I like. I have a hunch that a sugared-up chocolatey version would be right up my alley, but that kind of defeats the purpose, don't you think? Also, I've tried a store-bought variety of almond butter, and I hated it so much after the first bite that I had to give the rest of the jar to a friend so it wouldn't just go to waste in my fridge.

Hmm. Almonds are touted as being one of the very best nuts out there, with dozens of healthy benefits coming your way for eating them. So I'm determined to find more ways to like them!

Enter: homemade almond butter. I've been curious to try making my own, in the hopes that I'd like my own concoction better than something I'd buy at the grocery store. I love my homemade cashew butter (courtesy of the great Alton Brown), and I love that sense of victory you get when you successfully make something yourself that you only thought to buy before.

I found this recipe for Cinnamon Raisin Almond Butter two ways (a mention on Tasty Kitchen, and it's from a food blogger I like—Eating Bird Food), and the title was just calling my name. What a tasty way to venture into homemade almond butter! It was a very simple recipe:

Cinnamon Raisin Almond Butter
From Eating Bird Food

Ingredients:
2 cups Almonds
1/4 cup Raisins
1 t. Cinnamon
1 t. Vanilla bean paste or vanilla extract
* Water or oil - my addition, see notes below.

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Spread almonds on a 9x13" baking sheet and bake for 10-12 minutes. Cool for 20 minutes or so.
2. Place roasted almonds in a food processor and process for 10 minutes (yep, 10 minutes), occasionally scraping down the sides.
3. Add remaining ingredients and begin processing again.
4. Process until smooth, occasionally scraping down the sides. About 3-5 more minutes.
*5. Drizzle in water or oil in small bits while processing, if almond butter hasn't reached your desired creaminess after 15+ minutes.

I didn't feel like heating up the oven, so I toasted my almonds in the microwave for a few minutes instead. Spread them in a single layer on a microwave-safe plate, and microwave on high in one-minute intervals. My instinct is the only real difference it makes is in flavor, so if you prefer the taste of raw almonds, by all means, skip that step!

As the almonds processed, they became more powdery or almond-meal-like than creamy. When I first started, I was skeptical of the "process for 10 minutes" direction, but even after 10 minutes, my almonds still weren't creamy:

When compared to the other nuts in the spectrum of nuts, seeds, and peanuts, one reason almonds are a top choice for many is the lower fat content, which I'm sure is because they're lower in natural oils. So it would make sense that it would take a little more effort to make a creamy almond butter.

But before I started making alterations to the recipe, I decided to see it through to the end and see how the raisins might change things. So in went the raisins, cinnamon and vanilla extract:

After another 7ish minutes of whirring, it still hadn't reached anything close to what I'd consider "creamy." Time to start altering.

I had some walnut oil on hand specifically for making homemade cashew butter, so I drizzled in about a tablespoon (a little at a time over a few minutes) while it was processing. It helped a lot, and it got me to this stage:

And there I stopped. It was spreadable and quite tasty! You may also be able to use water instead of oil to help it get creamy, and I've seen recipes call for that. If, after I've eaten all this, I want to make it again, I may give that a try. If you're going to go for an oil, I'd recommend a nut oil like walnut oil, or something without much of its own flavor, like canola oil.

I also don't know if almonds vary greatly, or how roasting them in the oven would have changed things. Judging by the comments and reviews on Tasty Kitchen, achieving creaminess is a common challenge.

I'll be storing mine in the fridge, since that's Alton Brown's recommendation for my beloved cashew butter. Yum!

Have you made your own almond butter? Any tips?

Balloon glow

August means it's State Fair time in Indiana, and this year, I got to see something that I've been wanting to for years: the evening glow of the hot air balloons.

The annual balloon race has been a tradition for many years, though it was just moved to Saturday morning (from Friday) a few years ago. For me, this is great news, because it actually gives me a chance to see it. The night before the race, the balloons gather in the infield of the fairgrounds. They inflate but don't leave the ground, and as the sunlight fades, the light of the propane burners turns the balloons into giant lanterns.

The field is clear of spectators while the balloons are being inflated, but we were able to watch from outside the fenced area and see part of the process.

Each balloon, as it was inflating, had one or two team members holding tight to a tether on the very top, keeping it straight and (for the most part) away from its neighbors.

It looked a bit like they were playing tug-o-war with Goliath.

The sight of the illuminated balloons is truly spectacular. You can help but smile in awe, whether you're six or 86.

The evening's emcee had the pilots do several coordinated "all glows," where they all lit up together (as you see below).

When all the balloons had successfully inflated, we were cleared to come closer and wander amongst them.

I was amazed by the intensity of the heat that emanates from the propane burners, and I didn't get any closer than about 15 feet away. I can imagine that the people in the actual basket stay pretty toasty on cool morning rides!

If I had a good opportunity to go for a ride in a hot air balloon, I'd take it. So far, the cost has been prohibitive for me (expect to shell out around $300 for a trip!), but maybe someday I'll suck it up and get a chance to do it.

Have you ever ridden in a balloon? Would you?

Feline family

I will never, ever, ever understand how some people can unceremoniously dump an animal and absolve themselves of further responsibility by just driving off. It makes me absolutely sick.

That's probably the strongest sentence I've ever used to start a post here, but it makes me pretty angry.

I understand that having animals can become quite expensive (which is just one of the reasons Buster is still "my" dog and I haven't yet gotten a dog that is solely my own). I understand that they require attention and space, and if you're not entirely enthused about them, they can feel like a burden. I get it.

But to go to the effort of driving an animal somewhere, kicking it out of the car, then driving off to forget about it... it's disgusting.

When you live in a more isolated area, dumping of animals seems to become more noticeable. For one, with fewer houses nearby, fewer domesticated animals randomly wander onto your property.

And if a mother cat with four kittens appear all at one time, you know they've been dumped.

My aunt and uncle recently had these five cats dumped at their house. Luckily for the cats, they're people who like cats and were willing to give them shelter and food. The kittens, when they arrived, were just a few weeks old; they were barely off their mother's milk.

I'm not interested in having a cat right now (I'm much more a dog person), but if I were, I'd take one of these little guys.

To the people who dumped them, I give you one word:

Karma.

Wildflowers in bloom

I've been meeting up with one of my girlfriends once a week to walk (and chat, of course) at a local park after work, and one of the parks we've tried has several big areas of wildflowers that are fully in bloom right now. I had to go back with my camera!

Inspiration in Holland and Saugatuck

After finding such great inspiration from our previous vacations in Colorado and North Carolina, Mom and I made gathering more of that inspiration one of our missions while on vacation in Michigan.

We make it a point to eat at locally owned restaurants and seek out locally owned boutiques and stores in the areas we visit. I love this for many reasons. One, we're supporting those local business owners whose very existence keeps life interesting. Two, we're witnessing and appreciating the area and its own character, which you can't get from larger chains and businesses. Three, when you purchase something made by a local artisan, you know you'll be one of the few people in the world -- if not the only one -- who owns that item. And for those of us with an interest in creative fields, it serves as inspiration for your own work.

And "inspiration" and "stealing" are two different things. I'm talking about the inspiration side of the equation.

Through some great recommendations, Mom and I heard that the Saugatuck area of Michigan is known for its arts and crafts scene, so we decided to end our trip with a stop there. (Bonus: it meant we were three hours closer to home.) When we researched hotels for our one-night stay, we weren't able to find much in our range in the actual town of Saugatuck, so we stayed in Holland, instead, which is a larger town and about 20 minutes from Saugatuck.

I'll admit, my outsider's idea of Holland wasn't overly enticing. It seemed as though everything I'd ever seen or heard about that town related to wooden shoes... and kitschy really isn't my thing.

I'm happy to say now, though, that I was wrong -- both Mom and I were impressed with Holland. Dutch history and tourist attractions may be one of the main things they advertise, but we found the town itself beautiful and the local shops top-notch. Downtown Holland (where we spent most of our time) even boasts snow-free sidewalks in the winter thanks to heated cobblestone walkways.

On our way out of town, we drove by the only operating Dutch windmill in the United States:

We spent our final morning strolling through Saugatuck, which didn't disappoint. Again, the local galleries and stores were great. An art fair was scheduled for the day we were there, but by this point I was feeling like a sponge that had soaked up its fill of inspiration-water... so we stuck to the town, grabbed lunch at a restaurant along the water's edge, then headed home.

Mom and I both came back from vacation feeling relaxed and energized, and we both have lots of great ideas for our own creative businesses. I'm looking forward to adding some new items to my Etsy shop in the coming months!

Holland on Dwellable

The changing landscape of Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore

I admit it, I've lived in Indiana my whole life and have never visited the dunes in northern Indiana along the southern shore of Lake Michigan.

I can now say, though, that I have visited the dunes of Lake Michigan. I just traveled to Michigan to do it.

As the week warmed up and the sun struggled to shine again, Mom and I took a day of our Traverse City-area vacation to head west to the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. This park area came highly recommended by friends who've lived in the area.

Neither Mom nor I are sit-forever-on-the-beach people, so we did a driving tour of the area that included the Pierce Stocking Scenic Drive within the park. It's a 7.4-mile tour that was well worth the visit. Along the drive, you get to see and understand the landscape and formation of the area, which includes both forest and dunes.

These dunes were much taller and more expansive than I'd imagined, and it also put into perspective for me just how big the Great Lakes really are. At one point along the drive, you can walk out to an observation deck that sits about 450 feet above Lake Michigan.

The dunes drop off steeply from the top of the dune to the shore of the lake, and some brave souls chose to descend the slope and then climb back up to the top. We stood and watched them for a while and couldn't help but think that it looked like they were voluntarily competing in a challenge on the Biggest Loser.

The landscape was really beautiful and incredibly delicate. We were amazed to see with our own eyes just how much it changes from year to year, primarily by wind alone. Some trees' roots were entirely exposed, leaving them barely hanging on.

In some ways, it reminded me of Yellowstone, because the dunes are so different than the landscapes I'm used to. Areas of Yellowstone made me think of the surface of the moon, with small geysers and bubbling mud pots scattered throughout the park -- and the dunes, in some ways, felt that way, as well.

As we left the park, we stopped by the park-sanctioned Dune Climb, a specific dune open for climbing, to see the people taking the challenge to the top. This didn't seem nearly as impressive after seeing the folks on the dune earlier in the park, but I'm sure it was more difficult than it looked! I know how challenge it is just to walk on flat, level ground in sand, so I'm sure trying to climb it is 10 times harder.

This is definitely an area of Michigan I'd recommend visiting, and you should do it soon, before the dunes are worn away!

Glen Arbor on Dwellable

Petoskey stones and mushroom houses in Charlevoix

I was the Rock Girl when I was a kid.

Not rock 'n' roll. Rocks, the ones you find on the ground.

I loved them, collected them, bought them, searched for them... it was an endless fascination for me. I really shouldn't be saying that in the past tense, though, because it's essentially still true: when I visit a bead shop and comb through the options for making new jewelry for myself, it's the stones and gemstones that grab my attention. Sparkly? Nah. Clay? I'll pass. Give me the rocks!

I think I bought a little drawstring bag of polished stones on every family vacation we took. I found one trip especially cool when we visited Yellowstone: We found a store outside the park that had a promotion in the store that lured you to buy a bag of uncleaned stones, sort through them in their pan-for-gold-in-the-water setup, and have the chance to find raw semiprecious stones.

I still have that bag of rocks.

I no longer keep a box of ordinary (but each with an interesting feature, of course!) rocks under my bed, but I'm still drawn to beautiful rocks.

The Petoskey area of Michigan is famous for a particular fossil-stone that washes up along the shores of Lake Michigan. On our trip to Michigan last week, Mom and I planned a visit to Petoskey (about two hours north of Traverse City) and Charlevoix and included some time combing through the shores.

Unfortunately, the weather gods over Petoskey gave us a 55-degree day with rain, fog, and 20+ mph winds.

Call me a wimp, but those aren't exactly the conditions that make me want to stand barefoot in the water and look for rocks.

I was brave enough to get out and get some photos, though, and I did come home with a (small) bag of pretty, smooth bleached-white stones.

Thankfully, by the time we got to Charlevoix, the skies cleared and the temperature climbed above 60 degrees. It was a photo of Charlevoix in a Michigan travel magazine (a photo taken in the exact spot as the one below) that had convinced us to take this trip, so we were both looking forward to visiting the town and checking out the local shops.

We were honestly a little disappointed. The number of shops was relatively small, and it seemed as though there really wasn't much to see or do in Charlevoix unless you had a boat and wanted to just sit along the water's edge. (And believe me, there were some nice boats around town!)

Not many people were on the beach that day, though we did see some impressively hardy souls sunning themselves on their yachts or balconies. Mom and I, on the other hand, had our jackets and sweatshirts zipped up to our chins.

The part of the town we found most interesting were the Earl Young homes. Earl Young was an architect in the first half of the twentieth century who made his mark by designing stone houses that are fondly called "mushroom houses" or "fairy houses", or more recently, "Hobbit houses." We found a rough map online and walked around town to see some of these interesting homes.

Most of them have curved, sloping roofs with cedar-shake shingles and chimneys that appear to be topped with dripping icing. Some are tiny, some are huge, and I'd have loved to have a chance to see inside one! Here are four of the ones we found:

As interesting as it would be to live in one of these homes, I don't think I'd ever want to live in a house that enticed people to constantly walk or drive by and take pictures. I like space, peace, quiet and privacy a little too much.

What about you -- would you live in an architecturally interesting house that drew attention like this?

Petoskey on Dwellable

Skipping town for a vacation - and some great wine!

Mom and I have made a tradition of taking a girls-only vacation together each year, and that's exactly what we did last week. Last year we trekked to the mountains of Asheville, NC and Knoxville, TN, so this year, we chose to surround ourselves with water instead. Traverse City, MI was our destination, and we capped it off with a couple days in the artsy communities of Holland and Saugatuck. Neither of us had spent much (if any) time in these areas, so we had a lot of fun just pulling ideas together for everything we wanted to see and do.

When we discovered that this particular area of Michigan is known for its wine (who knew?), we decided to make wine tasting one of our first activities.

Traverse City sits at the base of two peninsulas: the Old Mission Peninsula and the Leelenau Peninsula. Old Mission Peninsula is especially perfect for growing grapes for wine, because it sits a hair south of the 45th Parallel (the same parallel that runs through Bordeaux, France) and the bays on either side create an ideal microclimate.


View Larger Map

We drove to the very tip of the peninsula first to see the lighthouse. This was the first lighthouse I've visited, and I was surprised to see that it was essentially designed as a house with a light tower on top. I hadn't realized that not all lighthouses are singular lights atop narrow towers.

On our way back south, we visited our first winery, and it turned out to be our favorite: Bowers Harbor. It's one of seven wineries on the peninsula. Another 19 wineries call the Leelenau Peninsula home -- but because of that perfect microclimate, many of them grow the bulk of their grapes on Old Mission.

At Bowers Harbor, the facility was small and homey, and we chatted with the owner while we sampled a handful of her wines. Bowers Harbor harvests the majority of their grapes by hand, because it's less damaging to the delicate grapes, though many others harvest primarily with the help of machinery. We wondered about the feasibility of growing an organic vineyard versus through traditional means, and she said that the Michigan region isn't very friendly to organic growers because of the high likelihood of mildew.

I'm proud to say that we enjoyed this winery so much that we bought an entire case of wine. Not bad for our first stop, huh?

After Bowers Harbor, we ventured a few miles down the road to one of the first wineries to stake claim on Old Mission: Chateau Grand Traverse. This one caught our eye in the Old Mission brochure because it mentioned free tours of the production facility.

And Mom and I love a good tour!

The feeling we got when we walked in the door was striking: though the facility was beautiful, and the tasting room several times larger than Bowers Harbor's, it felt impersonal and commercial. We'd had such a great time at Bowers Harbor that we didn't even feel compelled to elbow our way up to the bar and sample the wine.

We did take the tour, though, and it was worth the 30 minutes! My favorite bit of information we learned: We'd noticed rosebushes growing at the ends of the rows of grapes, and we wondered whether it was purely aesthetic or for a specific reason. Interestingly enough, roses thrive and sicken in the same conditions as grapes. So if they notice a suffering rosebush at the end of a row, they can diagnose and pinpoint a problem before it taints an entire batch of wine.

We wrapped up our day back in Traverse City with some shopping downtown on Front Street, which had some great local shops -- including a nice little yarn shop that called Mom's name immediately.

It took a lot of convincing for me to get her to check out another shopping area the next day, though: the Village at Grand Traverse Commons. It's a former state hospital and asylum, renovated into office and shopping space. It was admittedly a little creepy, especially since the primary shopping area is in a basement of one of the buildings, with low ceilings, concrete walls, narrow hallways... it was easy to imagine the previous (likely unhappy) residents of the facility. We didn't linger here, and we left the campus to find dinner elsewhere.

I applaud the renovation effort, though! It's great to see a historic site being made over and put to good use, instead of razed and built from the ground up.

I have much too many stories and photos from the trip to cram into one post, so I'll have more in the coming days!

An herb garden in the making

An experiment in the making: my first herb garden.

I mentioned in my last post that I have a handful of different herbs growing (or attempting to grow) in pots on my deck. I don't have much experience with growing potted plants (heck, I don't have a lot of experience growing plants in the ground, either!), so I'm learning as I go.

I took a cooking class at Kiss Z Cook earlier this spring called "Cooking with Fresh Herbs," in the hopes that it would inspire me and teach me something about how to use my coming crops.

I'll just say that it didn't meet my expectations. If I'd been out to just cook some recipes in a group setting, I'd have considered it a successful evening. But I was looking for more educational, informational instruction, and I didn't get that at all.

The good news: I paid for the class with a Groupon that saved me more than 50%, so that helped to lessen my disappointment.

Ironically, just a couple weeks later, I went to a free (magic word) gardening fair at the county fairgrounds, hosted by the local Master Gardener's association, and I specifically went at a time when they were presenting a 30-minute session on growing, preserving, and using fresh herbs. This free session knocked the socks off the expensive cooking class. The presenter spoke completely without notes, purely from years of experience, and I took several pages of notes on her recommendations.

Fast forward to mid June, and my basil and oregano look great, but the cilantro and parsley aren't flourishing quite as much. I do love walking past them every day on my way to and from work, checking in to see how things are doing. I've especially enjoyed seeing the pattern in which the basil leaves grow. Leaves appear in 180° pairs, then the next pair grows on top of the previous pair -- but at a perfect 90° angle. I love the order and symmetry of it.

This is actually the basil pot where my toad couple spent the evening last week. I haven't seen the two of them together again (hope they're not on the outs), but their visit doesn't seem to have hampered this basil!

Finally, this cilantro seedling is s-l-o-w-l-y making progress. I like how delicate it is at this stage, yet completely recognizable.

I'm going to keep coaxing these along, and I can't wait to use some. I want to make pesto, salsa...

Are you growing any herbs? What are your favorite ways to use them?

Unexpected garden visitors

Four-legged visitors are usually unwelcome guests in a garden, but I have one that I have to admit I'm enjoying having around.

I've started my first herb garden this year, in pots on my deck. I'm growing oregano, basil, flat-leaf parsley, and cilantro. I tried starting some from seeds indoors, but I've since learned that my house just doesn't quite get enough light to nurture hearty growth. The basil was the only start worth keeping.

Seeds are cheap, though, and it was a fun learning experience, even if it essentially failed. I got a start of oregano from my aunt's massive plant, and I bought new basil, cilantro and parsley plants at area farmer's markets and garden centers. The still-living basil starts got transplanted into a couple pots (which, if they all take off, will end up giving me enough basil to last for about five years).

Not 48 hours after I'd potted all my herbs and settled them into their new homes on my deck, I noticed that something had been digging in the dirt around the cilantro. Thinking, at first, that it was a chipmunk (grrr), I was pleasantly surprised when I went to water the plants the next day and discovered what it was: a toad! He was buried in the dirt up to his eyeballs. It didn't look like he'd disturbed the roots, though, so I left him alone (hoping he'd feast on more than his share of mosquitoes).

After some further research into how much sunlight each plant enjoys, I shifted the pots around to better maximize the sunlight in this space. It seemed to have disturbed my toad, though, because I didn't see him again for a week or so (and he'd been nestled into his cilantro home each morning and evening).


Not to fear, though, because apparently it takes more than that to scare my toad away from his new home. Tonight, I got home from a bike ride and found him in a new pot -- a pot that is essentially in the same place as his old cilantro home.

And he'd brought a friend. Don't they look cozy?

He probably feels like he's been downsized, since this pot is in the same place, and it's smaller than the previous one. Unfortunately this couple has now definitely disturbed the roots of my basil seedlings... but since I have two others doing fine, I'm thinking I'll just leave them be.

My other surprise find tonight was this:

It's a squash plant. Growing in my compost heap. And I did not plant it there on purpose.

Actually, let me clarify: it's closer to 50 squash plants growing in my compost heap.

I'm not sure what it is yet, but it's blooming! I tossed some gourds out there at the end of last fall, so we'll see if that's the winner! Last year I found a bundle of tomato plants in this same spot.

This may be the easiest kind of gardening around.

Homemade granola

Meet my latest cooking kick: homemade granola.

Like so many other foods, once you've tasted the wonder of your own, personally customized, homemade granola, you'll find it hard to return to the boxed packages on the grocery shelf.

This isn't the first time I've had homemade granola, but it's my first attempt of making it myself. The process started in 2008 when Mom and I ventured to Colorado to visit Chase during his summer outside of Steamboat Springs. On our one full day with him, he took us to his favorite restaurant in Steamboat, Freshies, a place that offered house-made granola on the menu.

It was incredible. When we returned from that trip, Mom spent quite a bit of time researching recipes and tweaking multiple batches, trying to replicate the wonder of the Freshies granola. She's passed the recipe on to me, but this summer is the first time I've tried making it myself.

I honestly had forgotten that I already had the recipe in my possession, so I pored over several recipes before jumping in. One thing that makes Mom's granola unique is the fact that it's cooked in the crock pot. You'll find many recipes out there for crockpot granola, but it's more common to find recipes carried out in the oven.

But for as many recipes that there are, you'll find just as many stories of, "Woe is me, you won't believe how many batches of granola I've burned before finally figuring out how to do it in my own oven." I wanted to avoid this learning curve as much as I could, and having seen how easy it is to do in the crockpot (even though the whole process takes longer), that's what I wanted to do.

Alas, woe is me, it's still easy to burn granola in the crockpot.

Bummer.

If you search for crockpot granola recipes, you'll find widely varying temperature and cooking time recommendations (Some will tell you 5-7 hours on high. Huh?!). After having made about four complete batches in the last month (two in one weekend), I can tell you that when it comes to my crockpot, two hours on low is all it takes.

Once you know that, this is an incredibly easy thing to make, and the recipe is entirely flexible. Dump everything in, stir it up, cook it on low, and stir it every 30 minutes. That's it. The result is a looser granola than you might be used to; it's not clumpy, though there may be a way to do it. The flavor is great, though, so I don't really miss the clusters.

I made a batch this past weekend that has been my best yet. This version was loosely based on a recipe from Smitten Kitchen (great cooking blog, by the way), with some of Mom's tried-and-true flair thrown in. Here's my latest version:

Homemade Granola
Loosely based on Smitten Kitchen and Mom's Amazing Personal Recipe
Serving size: 1/2 cup

3 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
1 cup flaked coconut (I used unsweetened)
1/4 cup vegetable oil
Approximately 1 cup of your choice mix of chopped nuts and seeds (this version used almonds, walnuts, pecans, and sunflower seeds)
1/4 cup maple syrup (or honey)
Pinch of cinnamon
Pinch of salt
1 Tablespoon frozen OJ concentrate

I sprayed the inside of my crockpot with cooking spray first, but I'm not sure that it really did anything.

Dump everything into your crockpot. Stir to mix well and distribute the wet ingredients.

Cover, placing a paper towel across the top between the crock and the lid to catch condensation and keep it from getting back into your granola. Cook on low for two hours or so, depending on your crockpot, stirring every 30 minutes.

It's done when the granola is fragrant and golden brown. After you've turned off the crock pot, it will continue to dry and crisp up, getting a little bit darker (so it's okay to think you may have slightly undercooked it). Let it cool, then store in an airtight container at room temperature for a couple weeks or in the freezer indefinitely.

As you can see from these photos, the pre-cooking and post-cooking visual difference isn't huge.

Many recipes call for adding dried fruit after the granola has cooled, but I haven't done that yet. It doesn't really need it, though I know it would be wonderful, and honestly, I find myself forgetting to add it!

I love having this for breakfast with Greek yogurt and fresh fruit. We've had some unseasonably hot weather recently, so I've been enjoying more cold smoothies for breakfast -- and I've found that pouring the smoothie into a bowl (a very basic, bare-bones fruit smoothie), topping it with granola and eating it with a spoon is wonderful. You can also eat it like cold cereal with your favorite milk, or add some milk and warm it up in the microwave.

Now I just have to eat through this batch so I can start making some more...

Handcrafted

My grandfather is an amazing craftsman when it comes to anything wood. And one aspect of his talent that gives me an even higher regard for him is the art that he puts into his work.

This 90-year-old man is a modest, decorated WWII veteran from Kentucky whose beliefs and leanings tend to be very conservative. He built a long career on carpentry and is a pretty cut-and-dry, upstanding man. All of these traits aren't extraordinary when you consider other men of his generation. But one word that doesn't immediately come to mind when I think of Grandpa is "artistic."

And then I see the detail and the artistry in the pieces he builds, and I'm reminded that even though he may not fit in a typical "creative" mold, he definitely belongs there.

More than 10 years ago, I saw some wooden earrings I liked in a catalog or a magazine. I took the picture to him and asked if he could make some beads for me out of scraps of wood he had sitting around his workshop. He got right to work and gave me four pairs of wooden "beads" to work with.

My jewelry-crafting skills -- and my budget for nice hardware -- were limited, so I didn't wear the earrings much after I made them. But I've kept them all this time, safely tucked away and forgotten in a drawer.


This weekend, with an extra day off for Memorial Day and armed with some quality hardware, I deconstructed the earrings and got back to the original wooden focal pieces. I've now remade three of the four pair into earrings into updated, more quality renderings that I can't wait to wear!

The wooden beads in this pair are some of my favorites, because they show off one of Grandpa's strengths: he can seamlessly -- and artfully -- join three different kinds and colors of wood into one larger element. He's especially well known in the family for using this technique to create amazing bowls.

The colored beads that I used in this pair are leftovers from another project from years and years ago: a beaded watch.

These feature the same grain of wood as you saw in the first photo above. It's gorgeous all by itself.

I can't wait to wear these this week and have yet another great reminder of Grandpa nearby!