reading my tea leaves

my week in objects (mostly).

2013-05-24T10:35:00.001-04:00

1. this khadi towel.
{brought to me with love from india}.

2. this cuppow.

{because clearly i needed an adult sippy cup}.

3. this allium.

{for getting ready to pop}.

4. this salvia.

{and the other things, for making the view out of the bathroom window so very sweet}.

5. these keys.

{because there was a slight snafu this morning wherein james and i both left the house without keys. thank goodness for a friendly and trusting super}.

other things:
james surprised me with these. sadly, he doesn't understand the molly mcintire references i've been making all week.
i'm still tempted to do this.
i'm going to connecticut this weekend to raid my mom's rhubarb patch.
i'm admiring these v. sweet dresses.
read it in print.

things by me in other places:
marrying pots and plants.
seedlings and the aftermath.
purple sensation and friends.

And many, many thanks for all of your sweet notes about yesterday's little announcement. It's awfully nice to have such kind blog friends.

growing things, etc.

2013-05-23T10:23:00.001-04:00

As you've probably gathered from these tea leaves, since I left my job at the farm last February I've been winging a freelance career. It's been simultaneously thrilling and terrifying. In a turn of events that I can only hope sounds encouraging and not exasperating, a year and a half of ridiculous hard work has paid off.
Next week, I'll be joining Gardenista as Associate Editor. There are a lot of plant metaphors that I could use to describe my feelings about this new job, but I think something interplanetary is in order. I'm over the moon and then some. Without a doubt, this is the most excited I've ever been about a job and that includes working at a clam shack in high school where I could eat endless amounts of french fries and milkshakes.

I'll still be doing the same writing and picture-taking in this space and a few others, but I am incredibly excited to pour my energy into Gardenista and I really hope that you guys follow along in that space, too.

PS. If you have a garden-y space of your own, Gardenista just launched a garden design competition and we'll be doling out prizes in five different categories. So whether your spot is inside or out, edible for humans or for the birds and the bees only, you can send along photos and enter to win. All the details, here.

PPS. ~~Details on these alliums &c. coming up later in the day. In the meantime, more of my Gardenista posts, right here~~. Update: Alliums!

< two fifty: life in a tiny apartment.

2013-05-22T10:44:00.001-04:00

Think seasonally.

I've already written about the usefulness of having at least a small bit of storage relegated to storing off-season clothes. Wrestling with an over-stuffed dresser drawer is nobody's idea of fun and making room in the drawers that you use every day can do wonders for your well-being and your nerves.

But beyond just remembering to swap out my clothes with the seasons, lately I've been finding it useful to think about how other aspects of my home shift along with the weather.

With the radiator turned off, I have a whole new surface to prop books or cups of iced tea without fear of scorching. When the windows are open, there are an extra few inches of window sill space for balancing a house plant (or face brush). Needing to cool things off with a fan means moving a lamp to a different corner.

While I'm not one to go in for wholesale redecorating every few months, it's refreshing to think about even small ways to change the way things look around here.

How do you change things in your home from season to season? Do you shift things around or swap things out? Different bedclothes? New plants? Swapped pillowcases? I'm curious!

PS. I'm seriously considering this trick for making this bathroom screen a little bit more...discrete.

shelter: a prickley mountain bag giveaway.

2013-05-21T07:56:00.000-04:00

When it comes to bags, I'm more or less a monogamist. I've never been one of those women whose closet is jammed full of bags to match shoes and belts and special occasions. I like to carry one trusty bag and to have it do all the work that I need it to. If a bag treats me right, it's guaranteed a lasting spot on the crook of my arm. If it doesn't? Well, it doesn't get a second look. Lately, my go-to bag has been the Prickley Mountain Bag from Shelter.

The Prickley Mountain Bag in cove green waxed canvas and bright pink ikat is every bit as lovely as the woman who makes it. Karie Reinertson of Shelter makes consistently beautiful bags from her Asheville, North Carolina studio. Made from thoughtfully sourced leather and one-of-a-kind fabrics, the bags are works of art in the best kind of way: they're every bit as functional as they are nice to look at.

With straps that can be worn across the shoulder or carried briefcase-style, the Prickley Mountain bag makes the perfect companion for early morning trips by subway or Saturday afternoon bike rides to explore a new neighborhood.

An interior pocket helps keep things organized and bright brass hardware is both sturdy and handsome. Good qualities in a bag and other things, don't you think?

Kindly, Karie and Shelter is offering a Prickley Mountain Bag to one lucky Reading My Tea Leaves reader.

For a chance to win, follow Shelter on Instagram and Facebook and leave a comment here with a description of the kinds of things you'd tote around in your Prickley Mountain Bag.

The giveaway will close on Thursday evening at 5:00 pm and a randomly selected winner will be announced on Friday. Lots of luck and thanks for reading! As always, many thanks for supporting Reading My Tea Leaves sponsors.

(This giveaway is open to folks in the US and internationally; international participants are responsible for their own shipping fees).

UPDATE: This giveaway is now closed. Congratulations to Kimberley!

may rain.

2013-05-20T07:58:00.000-04:00

Rainy weekend window box views.

Rain on green things is so much better than rain on concrete things, don't you think?

my week in objects (mostly).

2013-05-17T10:35:00.000-04:00

five little things that made my week.

1. these forget-me-nots.
{because they're transplanted from connecticut and doin' just fine}.

2. this earl grey.

{because it's much fancier than i usually buy, but an emergency tea stop meant fancy tea}.

3. this tiny herb garden.

{because i finally figured out which herbs can thrive on a low-light windowsill. more here}.

4. these loppers.

{borrowed. and used to take the little shade garden out front to the next level}.

5. this posy.

{because even though i didn't photography it before it got droopy, it was nice to have all week long}.

other things:
this dungaree dress.
photos by snail mail.
this perfect pencil case.
this little round collar.
these ferns.
midsummer!

things by me in other places:
herbs that can grow (almost) anywhere.
considering the fiddle leaf fig.
lilacs.
shaking things up.

homemade pizza with caramelized onions, blue cheese, and spring greens.

2013-05-16T09:21:00.000-04:00

This is a sort-of recipe, but mostly it's a plea for you to whip out your pizza stone (or cookie tray), fire up your oven, and get to baking yourself homemade pizzas before the summer temperature rises and the thought of voluntarily making your apartment warmer sends you running.

I had the craving for pizza last night at 6:30 pm, so I did what any reasonable person would do and headed to my local pizzeria for pre-made dough. Next stop, the grocery store for a vidalia onion. And homeward to find the last nubbin of Point Reyes blue cheese and two bags full of greens: pea shoots and arugula.

Here's what happened next:

I sliced up my onion, added it to my cast iron skillet with plenty of olive oil and let the pieces cook down and caramelize for the better part of 45 minutes. In the meantime, my oven slowly cranked its way up to 500 degrees. Somewhere in there, I poured myself a glass of a red wine. Not necessary to the process, but helpful.

Next, I washed and spun dry several large handfulls of pea shoots and arugula and crumbled my blue cheese into dime-sized pieces.

When the onions were good and browned, I covered a cutting board with cornmeal, stretched my pizza dough into a circle and scattered onions and dots of blue cheese across the dough. I drizzled the whole thing with olive oil and slid the dough onto my preheated pizza stone. After 10 minutes, I opened the oven and mounded the whole thing with more arugula and pea shoots than really looked reasonable. This is the best measure I have for you: pile on lots of greens, then add more. Drizzled again with olive oil and sprinkled with sea salt, I slid the pie back into the oven for another two minutes.

The pizza was ready when the greens had wilted down to a beautiful jewel-toned mess.

And there you have it: a springtime pizza that almost has me wishing this cool spring would last just a little bit longer.

Now your turn. What are your favorite springtime pizza toppings?

< two fifty: life in a tiny apartment.

2013-05-15T09:26:00.000-04:00

Approach your tiny apartment joyfully.

My mom and dad are hands-down the cheeriest people I know. It's not that they don't sometimes get annoyed, or grumbly about driving in traffic (ok, fine, that's really just my dad), but when those kind of annoyances crop up, that's about where they end. They surface, but before you can blink, the concern is over. There's no dwelling, there's no worry, there's no sustained hemming or hawing.

I once called my dad in a panic about something or other. I needed advice. Or more precisely, I needed to hear myself talk. After I'd finished talking myself down, I said something along the lines of, "Okay, I can do it."

To which my dad replied matter of factly,

"Bear, we don't worry, we just do."

Written here it looks almost like an admonishment, but I assure you that it is more of a credo.

I get more notes than I can ever respond to in a timely manner about small apartment worries. Most of them hinge on the fear of an upcoming move to a tinier place. The particular concerns vary, but here's the one bit of advice that I can offer universally: approach your tiny apartment joyfully. See it as an exciting challenge and not as an impending nightmare.

The first apartment that James and I shared together was enormous. It was five times the size of this place and then some. There was an entire room for our washer and dryer. It wasn't fancy, but it was spacious. We rattled aound in it. After six months of living there we moved to an apartment that was significantly smaller and significantly lovelier.

For the three weeks between signing our lease and making our move, I panicked about how we would fit everything into the apartment. I hemmed and hawed. I made James make a phone call to the current tenant to ask if we could visit the place again. I begged her to leave a massive shelving unit, just in case we needed more storage. I worried that our recently thrifted bedroom furniture wouldn't fit. I worried that no one would buy our couch which wouldn't fit up the stairs. Thinking about adding two surf boards to the mix nearly sent me over the edge. I literally lost sleep worrying about it.

Everything fit. What didn't, we sold. The shelving unit was wildly unnecessary and we moved that out too. We'll probably never have as awesome an apartment for as little money. Life was good.

Life in your tiny apartment will be good too. Just skip the worrying part.

PS. Photo above includes Ma and Pa Boyle + sister and husband + world's most adorable Oliver + me + James, who we forced to stay in the loft. Just kidding. Kind of.

morning walk.

2013-05-14T10:08:00.000-04:00

Just a few photographs of what morning walks have been looking like lately.

Lilacs, made glamorous.

2013-05-13T11:01:00.003-04:00

At my parents' house in Connecticut the flowers are always late to bloom. My mom refers to our yard as "a funny little microclimate," where the forsythia pop a week behind everyone else's and the lilacs finally burst into color sometime in late May. But clipped from soccer fields and the sides of highways, our house was always full of whatever wasn't quite ready to bloom in our own soil. As a result, we had lilacs plopped into pitchers on mantlepieces and bedside tables for approximately twice as long as every one else.

These lilacs came into my apartment in the city way, slung over my shoulder and carried home from a nearby flower shop. Tasked with making a bouquet inspired by Daisy Buchanan, these plumes became part of an arrangement just minutes before the rain poured down and turned the Brooklyn sky black on Saturday afternoon. Yesterday, they made the perfect backdrop for a tiny mother's day gathering in our tiny apartment. Two moms, one sweet bébé and three admirers.

I'm still learning the arts of flowering arranging, but for a little peek into my process for this Gatsby-inspired bouquet, you can head over to Gardenista.

my week in objects (mostly).

2013-05-10T09:37:00.000-04:00

five little things that made my week.

1. my neighbors' wisteria vines.
{because they're totally unkempt, and totally beautiful}.

2. this little package.

{because delivering photos is much more fun when they're tricked out in business cards and washi tape}.

3. this tea.

{because if it's doing half as much for my brain function as it is for my taste buds, i'll be happy}.

4. these tiny bells.

{because they're making my apartment smell so sweet. more over on gardenista}.

5. this book.

{because even though i'm only halfway through, and despite what criticism people might have, i think it's a must-read for any woman thinking about her career. blogger, executive, or otherwise}.

other things:
i want to do this with my 3 sisters.
grandmothers & food.
yikes.
trimming the fat.

things by me in other places:
clean air!
make your fridge smell good.
lily of the valley.
woodland wonderland, inside.
mid-may posies.
first night in a new home.

make-believe: springtime wardrobe.

2013-05-09T09:41:00.000-04:00

I'm a creature of habit. If you've been reading these tea leaves for awhile, you know this. I relish in creating rhythms and routines, but in general it doesn't take much for me to decide that something that I'm doing needs shaking up. When I went off to college, I took a few classes that touched on modern agriculture and I decided to change my food purchasing habits. I read an article (or four) about parabens and phthalates and I started paying closer attention to the stuff I put on my body. Watching this documentary was all I needed to convince me to curb my reliance on single-use plastics. I worked on a sustainable farm and decided that eating animals--even ones that are happily raised--isn't something I want to do. Those Green Mountain Energy guys? All they had to do was look my way and I signed right up. Okay, you get it.

Coming around to slow fashion has been a harder pill to swallow. It's not for lack of interest or understanding, but where I've been able to absorb the additional costs of organic food and natural beauty products, buying into sustainable fashion has been more difficult. First there's sticker shock and then there's my perpetual desire to "get something new."

Sometimes it is hard to break habits. The clothes above are what I'd be wearing this spring if money wasn't an object. They aren't all made here in the United States, but from what I can gather they've been made thoughtfully, without overt exploitation of people or the environment. This year I'm hoping to finally go in for a few investment pieces; beautifully-made clothes that will last and last. I'm also taking a page out of the book of my French friends and not giving a damn if I wear the same pair of jeans every day of the week. Quality over quantity. Michelle has the right idea.

1. Ace and Jig Button Tee 2. Maria Highrise Jean 3. Emma Grey Stripe 4. Everlane Tees

5. T-shirt dress 6.Discovery Dress

*There are a few links to stories on slow fashion in this post from last week. I'm still waiting on someone to return this book to the library.

PS. This just in.

< two fifty: life in a tiny apartment.

2013-05-08T09:42:00.001-04:00

Create a common space, even a tiny one.

As the weather gets warmer, coming back to our tiny apartment has a way of making me feel just a little bit hemmed in. Where I don't really mind the closeness in the wintertime, warmer evenings have me longing for more expansive vistas.

As delighted as I am with afternoons spent in the park, I've been itching for just a little bit of outdoor space that's closer to home. I have elaborate daydreams that include reading on a chaise lounge, elderflower cocktail on a side table next to me. In my daydreams, I imagine a private little space with just enough room for me and James and whatever plate of dinner we choose to enjoy. But lately I've come to the conclusion that sharing wouldn't be so bad either.

Designs for new micro-apartment buildings usually include some kind of common space. Architectural renderings show open terraces with communal tables where stylish young people gather in the evening to play card games and drink wine.

When I first began to see these drawings, I was skeptical. Aren't New Yorkers known for their particular brand of coolness to strangers? Would neighbors really invite each other to the terrace for a rousing game of Hearts? But I'm warming to the idea. After the first few weeks of warmer weather, I'd share my terrace with just about anyone.

Our building didn't come with any promise of common space. "Micro-apartments" here were an afterthought, sectioned off from what were once much more spacious apartments. This spring I'm doing a little experiment and doing my best to beautify what common space we do have. Those two crumbling flower boxes next to the trash bins? Filled up with sunny marigolds and violas, you don't even notice their chipped edges. I don't imagine that the neighbors will start inviting each other for glasses of wine next to the pile of recycling, but I do think that the tiny pop-up gardens help to foster a tiny sense of place. Which is very much better than none at all.

home, anywhere.

2013-05-07T07:44:00.000-04:00

For every bit of me that's itching to travel, to pack things up and head out for some grand new adventure, there's a part of me that really likes to be at home.

It's not that I have to be in my own home exactly, but I like to feel settled. If my things have a spot--even if it's just a corner to prop a book I'm reading--I feel comforted by extension. When I travel I like if it's to a place that I can ease into. I like to unpack my bag, rest my toothbrush on a shelf, hang my towel up to dry. Stay awhile.

This month, I wrote a piece for The Neighborhood about the first thing that I do when I move into a new place. The piece is really about settling into a new home, but I think the ideas work as well for places that are less permanent.

Here's the one thing (or two) that can make wherever I am feel a little bit more like home.

dinnertime.

2013-05-06T09:38:00.000-04:00

It's going to be hard to think of reasons why we shouldn't pack up the kitchen and head down to the park every single night this summer. Last night: grilled asparagus and mushrooms, homemade hummus and blackened pita bread, delicious homemade "lime juice," and ice cream cones to finish things off. We took big bites of those baby cheeks, too. Couldn't be helped.

my week in objects (mostly).

2013-05-03T10:07:00.000-04:00

five little things that made my week.

1. these cherry blossoms.

{because there are so many in just one spot. go this weekend}!

2. this blanket.
{because it's perfect sleeping weather these nights. cool enough for an extra blanket, warm enough for turning off the heat}.

3. these painterly annuals.

{because even though i wasn't early enough for the good stuff, these guys were just 50 cents a pop. grandmotherly-looking flowers, i'll take you}.

4. this new home for the watering can.

{because it's always in the way, but this spot seems good. also: the prettiest daffs}.

5. these herb tables.

{because even though our little window doesn't really get enough light, we're trying out basil just to be sure}.

other things:
ethical fashion (really worth the listen).
now i want to read this.
glad to see everlane's tee factory.
oh, to slip into this each morning.
i want to make this.

thing by me in other places:
mint juleps!
summer hats!

an herbal foot soak for summer feet.

2013-05-02T09:02:00.000-04:00

Photographing feet is tricky business. Photographing your own feet? Well, that's some kind of blogger rite of passage isn't it?

While we're still on the subject of clean floors and clean feet, I wanted to share this post that I worked on for Gardenista. It's a recipe for an herbal foot soak to soothe tired feet and it's delightful if I can say so myself. Since hauling home this enamel tub to use for the shoot, I've put this tub to work no less than five times. Storing a two foot wide enamel tub in a tiny apartment might be crazy, but getting to soak my toes while reading on the couch isn't so very bad.

Next on my list? An herbal foot scrub. Because after just a few days of sporting sandals around the city, I'm already in desperate need.

Full recipe for the foot soak, here.

< two fifty: life in a tiny apartment.

2013-05-01T09:52:00.000-04:00

Friends, spring is finally getting here. I've worn sandals, I've stood awkwardly close to other people's flowers and sniffed them, I've flung open the windows and planted seeds outside...thank you, landlord.

I know that I wrote about cleaning last week, but this week is less of an entreaty to share domestic duties and more of an encouragement to simply mop your floor.

In our last apartment, James and I were enthusiastic floor moppers. The vast expanses of hardwoods in our Providence apartment were sloping and pitted and had us mildly concerned that we might soon fall into our downstairs neighbors' laps during dinner. But they were clean. Or rather, they weren't clean and so we cleaned them. Constantly. I think that we thought that if we just mopped one more time, the faint odor of cat urine would finally dissipate. Forever optimistic.

Here in Brooklyn, there's no cat odor. That combined with the fact that we store our mop in our padlocked hall closet means that our impulse to mop has withered considerably.

But with the arrival of warmer weather and bare feet, you begin to notice things. First you remember that living in New York and daring to walk the streets in anything but high-top converse sneakers means that you need to scrub your feet upon returning home. Then you realize after scrubbing your bare feet that they rapidly become dirty again. And its because of your floor.

Gross.

We generally remove our shoes upon coming into our apartment, but there are those moments when I'm all ready to head out the door and I remember with horror that I haven't brushed my teeth. Lord knows I'm not going to unlace those high-tops for just one quick trip to the bathroom...and so it begins.

This weekend we mopped*. More precisely, we began to mop and then abandoned the mop for some old-fashioned scrubbing on our hands and knees. I'm not going to claim that whistled while we worked or anything, but the whole process only took about 20 minutes. More importantly, our floors are sparkling. So are the bottoms of our feet.

*If you're curious: we used a combo of warm water, peppermint essential oil and basic dish soap (we love Common Good). Someday, I want this.

a chocolate cake, reimagined.

2013-04-30T09:35:00.001-04:00

This is not the cake that I thought I was going to write about. That cake had a different and more complicated recipe. James was going to make it because he's patient and good at this sort of thing. I was going to flit about taking pictures.

But then we lingered over the newspaper, and our morning run to drop off the compost became a run to get bagels and eat them in the sunshine. When it's late April in a spring that's been slow to arrive, these are the sort of things that take precedence.

Cakes take a while to make. It's not that they're difficult, there's just all that baking and cooling that needs to be accounted for. When it's 1:00 pm and you're supposed to be bringing the birthday girl her cake at 2:00 pm, sometimes you need to scratch complicated and go for easy. This cake is the result: half fancy, half simple.

James adapted the cake recipe from one by his all-time-favorite baking bros. at Baked (see also). The original is for a delicious-sounding German Chocolate cake with a decadent pecan and coconut frosting. We didn't get quite that far, but we like what we got instead:

For the cake:

Ingredients:
2 1/4 c. cake flour (we used all-purpose, no surprise there)
3/4 c. dark unsweetened cocoa powder (we used unsweetened hot chocolate powder because it's what we had. Worked like a charm, powdered milk and all).
1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
3/4 tsp. salt
1 c. hot coffee
1 c. buttermilk
1 1/4 c. butter, softened
2 1/4 c. sugar
5 eggs
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
4 oz. dark chocolate, melted and cooled

Instructions:

1). Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Butter two 9-inch cake pans. (The original recipe calls for 3 8-inch pans--fancy!--but who has those?). Butter and flour the pans. Cut out parchment rounds and butter those if you're nervous about the cake sticking to the bottom. We didn't. Ours stuck. You've been warned.

2). Sift flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, baking soda, and salt into large bowl. In a smaller bowl, whisk buttermilk and hot coffee.

3). In the bowl of an electric mixer, beat butter and sugar until fluffy (I know, lots of bowls). Scrape the sides of the bowl and add your eggs, one at a time. Add vanilla.

4). Add the dry ingredients bit by bit, alternating them with the buttermilk and coffee mixture (begin and end with the dry stuff). Fold in the melted chocolate with a wooden spoon (or whatever you have on hand).

5). Divide the batter between your pans (Ours was just enough to fill 2 9-inch pans, but we did have a minor fiasco wherein "we" added the batter without first preparing the pans. Adventures in baking). Smooth the tops and bake for 35 minutes, rotating the pans halfway through. Test with a fork; it should come out clean when the cakes are done. Transfer to wire rack and let cool for 20 minutes. After 20 minutes, remove the cake from their pans and let cool completely before frosting.

...Or, if you're like us: clear out the freezer, put your wire rack on the top shelf, shove in your cakes, and pray for a miracle while running to the grocery store to find an alternate frosting recipe...

For the frosting:

When I realized we'd never have time to heat and cool and otherwise labor over a hot stove to make the frosting we'd planned, I grabbed my phone and ran out the door. This is the recipe I found somewhere along Clinton Street. It's light like whipped cream, but the cream cheese means it won't all squelch out when you add a second layer. Adapted below:

Ingredients:
8 ounces heavy whipping cream
8 ounces cream cheese (We used full fat, because that's how we like things).
1 cup sugar (We used a little less, because that's also how we like things).
dried coconut (unsweetened for the love of all that is good), as much as you like
vanilla extract, to taste

Instructions:
We used a stand mixer because we're lucky enough to have one, but you could do this with a handheld mixer or a whisk and very strong arms.

Mix together cream cheese, sugar, and vanilla extract until blended. I also added in a heaping handful of dried coconut because I love it and we had it handy. With the mixer churning, slowly add the heavy cream until the frosting stiffens and forms stiff peaks. Stiff peaks is like the ultimate in opaque recipe-speak, but once you make something like a frosting the meaning becomes quite clear. Courage!

When the cakes were finally cool, I glopped huge piles of frosting and sprinkled the whole thing with dried rose petals before walking it down the street to Brooklyn Bridge Park.

Guesses for how many ~~people~~ men asked me for a slice of that? Too many.

tulips, full color.

2013-04-29T09:46:00.000-04:00

There's lots to be said for the beauty of muted colors. I like them too; all those soft neutrals, the grays and whites and blues. But there's something about springtime tulips and the way that they remain bright and vibrant even when the sun is setting and the street lights have come on, that I'm finding pretty inspiring. It isn't such a bad thing to show a little bit of exuberance every now and then.

Other things:
A Gardener's Stage: Park Avenue
Tulipomania
Supermarket Tulips.

my week in objects (mostly).

2013-04-26T09:50:00.000-04:00

five little things that made my week.

1. this plant.

{because as james would say, i'm straight-up copying these guys. flattery}.

2. this light.

{because it's there}.

3. this new striped laundry bag.

{because finally we're not using oversized safety pins to keep our underwear from peppering the sidewalk}.

4. this iphone case.

{because i don't know how much more bloggerly i could be, but it's my second iphone case ever and a vast improvement}.

5. these worn-in clogs.

{because nothing beats worn-in clogs, especially in a week when you can wear them without socks}.

other things:
new york finally improved its recycling!
this made me very sad. but it's worth the read.
i grew up listening to this man. thanks, parents and richie.
i'm very excited to be a part of this book project.

other things by me:
make your own glass cleaner.
what does it mean to "be green."
garden clogs.
grocery store ranuncs.

PS. Thanks so much for everyone who entered the Nahla giveaway. A little reminder that the discount code is good through May 7 and 100% of proceeds from internet orders will benefit One Fund Boston, now through April 30.

brooklyn, a century ago.

2013-04-25T10:30:00.000-04:00

I've been poring over these family photos lately.

There's lots to say about them, but for now I couldn't help but to share them as a little celebration of Brooklyn in the summertime.

I wouldn't mind a summer filled with watering cans and floppy hats, oversized hair bows and dropped waist dresses. Add in a hydrangea bush with blossoms the size of a horse's head and I'd likely keel over from the delight of it all.

Brooklyn, you looked mighty fine in 1911. Aunt Ruth, you were pretty cute, too.

< two fifty: life in a tiny apartment.

2013-04-24T10:35:00.000-04:00

It doesn't matter how tiny your apartment is, if you share it with someone, divvy up the housework.

Without going into all the mushy details about how we met on a tiny island off the coast of Georgia, and how James has seriously the bluest eyes of anyone I'll ever know, and how three months after we met I moved to France and he moved to Utah and somehow the stars aligned and here we are 6 years later and 8 months married and on our way to happily-ever-after, let me just say that I feel pretty darn good about my choice in life partner.

James and I moved into an apartment together when I was just four days past my 23rd birthday. It took us three days after that to have our first fight about cleaning.

I could write an entire book on this subject, but recognizing that this is a blog and not a book and that maybe you are reading this surreptitiously while at work and would really just like me to get to the point already, I'll try to be brief:

Just because you live in a tiny apartment, it doesn't mean the housework that needs doing is also tiny.
There's still (likely) a toilet and a tub that need scrubbing, two sinks that need scouring, a kitchen trash can that needs emptying and a bed that needs changing, not to mention everything else. Even though the square footage that needs to vacuumed is small, the sum total of things that need cleaning isn't.

And just because you live in a tiny apartment, it doesn't mean that the cleaning should be the responsibility of one person. Maybe there are folks who have a happy arrangement wherein housework is solidly one person's domain and all other drudgery is someone else's, but in my humble opinion the single most important thing you can do in the name of keeping the peace, love, feminism, and all that is holy, is to embark on housework as a joint effort.

It's taken us six years to get it right, but James and I are pretty good about keeping things evenly divided. I might still get annoyed that James "doesn't notice" when the tub is dirty, and he might still get annoyed when I can't take out the trash because "I already took off my shoes," but we're not going for perfection here, just peace.

ps. I have a little tutorial on making an all-natural glass cleaner over on Gardenista. I think you'll like it!
pps. There are still two days to enter yesterday's giveaway!

nahla: a beautiful giveaway.

2013-04-23T09:48:00.000-04:00

You probably already know this about me: I'm a beauty aisle hand wringer. I'm the woman in Duane Reade frowning at mile-long ingredient lists and struggling to decode them in search of a perfect face cream. I've spent the better part of a half hour debating potions only to leave empty handed. I may or may not have once argued with an esthetician about petrochemicals...in public. Beauty products are an investment, and I don't want to invest in something that doesn't meet my standards.

Nahla Beauty is a new sponsor of Reading My Tea Leaves, but I like to think of them as an answer to my prayers. Maybe yours, too. Their ingredient lists are 100% readable and 100% free of parabens and petrochemicals and phthalates, and phenoxyethanol, and on and on. They smell wonderful, but not because they're pumped full of artificial fragrance. Maybe most important of all, they've been making my skin feel terrific.

This week, Nahla has generously offered a whole selection of goodies for one Reading My Tea Leaves reader. These are the goods:

Full size Forest Mint Gentle Foaming Milk
Full size Bulgarian Rose Hydrating Mist
Full size Amla Instant Repair Cream
Full size Flowering Quince Bath & Body Oil
Your choice of Sample Kits; one of these three remedies

For a chance to win, hop over to Nahla Beauty to explore their handiwork for yourself and leave a comment back here, complete with contact information and a description of one thing you're going to do this month to be kind to yourself and kind to the planet.

In addition to producing honest and reliable products, Nahla has a long history of philanthropic giving. They give away 20% of their profits annually. From now through April 30, they're donating 100% of their web order proceeds to One Fund Boston to support victims of last week's marathon bombing. If ever there was a time to invest in something special, this might be it.

And as if all that wasn't enough: Nahla Beauty is offering 10% off your order of $65 or more with discount code “TEALEAVES”. As a bonus, they’ll also include a special gift with every order regardless of size. This offer is valid through May 7, 2013 at 11:59 pm eastern time.

The giveaway will close on Thursday evening at 5:00 pm and a randomly selected winner will be announced on Friday. Lots of luck and thanks for reading!

PS. You don't have to follow this blog in a reader or on facebook, or twitter, or pinterest, or anything else in order to enter, but if you're new here, it'd be great to have you.

UPDATE: This giveaway is now CLOSED. Thanks so much for entering, the winner is Musings from the Corner!

bear mountain.

2013-04-22T09:21:00.000-04:00

Here's a thing about me that you might not know. To my family, I'm Bear. Growing up, while I picked buttercups on the margins of the soccer field, my mom and dad shouted a never ending chorus of encouragements:

"Go, Bear!"
"Go get 'em, Bear!"
"You can do it, Bear!"
"That-a-girl, Bear!"

Mostly this mortified me, which it shouldn't have. The inscrutable name coupled by my utter lack of response would have made it difficult to determine which of the players on the field was actually called Bear. To this day, parents of other players from Shoreline Connecticut circa 1992 might actually believe Bear to be the name of a girl who ran toward the ball instead of away from it.

That's an aside, mostly.

The main point is this: On Sunday, to celebrate the first three months of my nephew's sweet life on this planet, I dusted off the kind of athletic skills that have always been more squarely in my comfort zone and hiked Bear Mountain with my sister Cait, baby Oliver, and our partners in crime and other things. That's kind of like hiking Erin Mountain. Just so you understand.

We packed a lunch of hummus and pita and more than our share of chocolate-covered almonds and spent the day outside of the city gulping in fresh air and getting sunburned. It was glorious. Here, a few photos:

Fueling up and fancy footwork.

Bébé, incognito.

Babbling brooks and other nature-y things.
Cait and Curt, and an invisible-but-decidedly-present, Oliver.

Stone steps.
Queens of Bear Mountain.
Stunners.

Cheeseballs.

Happy Earth Day, friends.

ps. My thoughts on what it means to "be green."