Behind Infinity

I have worked many, many hours this week, and tonight I’m
taking
it
eeeeeeaaaaasy.

I’m hangin’ out at home with my 3 youngest siblings. Mom, Dad, and the highschoolers are at the church Valentines’ day youth fundraiser banquet.

I’m cooking because I love to cook now. It’s something I’ve been slowly figuring out how to do since late summer. I never cooked before that. But I’ve discovered that there’s a freedom in it, room for creativity and experimentation and guesstimation (as opposed to the more exact science of baking). I cook like I live–with chaotic abandon.

The acts of chopping, stirring, sauteing, boiling, they comfort and relax me. I’m dealing with particularly strong onions tonight. My eyes watered like crazy. I’m making a huge pot of lentil soup. (some for company tomorrow, and the leftover for my lunch next week) and a dish of baked lima beans (also for lunch next week).

Jamison (2.5 years) is keeping me company while the other two watch a movie. ‘Wiwo’ [willow] the dog follows me back and forth and licks my feet when she’s not busy sniffing for things I’ve dropped. Jamison is snitching carrots and onions from my cutting board. He begged for some garlic (freshly minced) and when I gave him a piece he licked it and then pinched his tongue with his fingers and looked at me with a shocked face. So funny.

Then while I was busy sorting lentils and not paying attention, he unwrapped a dozen hershey’s special dark candy bars that he found in the cabinet and lined them up like a choo-choo train. “dugga dugga dugga dugga, woo woo!” he said, as he moved them back and forth on the edge of the counter.

Ador-able! I would have taken a photo but my camera’s battery is inexplicably dead. Lame.

I just had to chase him out from under the sink. I think he wanted to drink some Windex. Now he’s weeping bitterly. Sorry, kid.

So my soup boils and the cabinet doors all hang open and here I sit on the floor blogging. T-shirt and yoga pants…so comfy. My soup boils on the stove. I just tasted it. Burned my tongue of course (i always do that). The carrots are soft and tender; the lentils and rice still need a bit. Think I’ll add more oregano. And I’ll set the red wine vinegar out on the counter so I don’t forget to add it later, when all is said and done. Jamison is getting over his sadness and attempting to load the dishwasher for me. There’s a huge pile of vegetable carnage on the counter. I should go take care of that.

I really love quiet evenings at home.

…and my two mares. This photo captures their personalities so well. Max, my lovable little screwball, is being his doofusy self and terrorizing Jezebelle, which is what he does all. day. long. especially in the winter. Jezebelle, my lovely longsuffering mare, is standing there with a sweet, impassive expression, like she does most of the time. And Starr, my little diva mare, looking just slightly ticked off on Jezebelle’s behalf, but mostly sweet.

And I love this. I love Jezebelle’s extremely short, extremely fuzzy neck. I love Max’s little hooky white marking. I love how the three of them are arranged in order of their appearance (but not their importance) in my life. I love how they are standing in roughly but not exactly the same way, and my wild, spirited mare isn’t quite peeking out all the way from behind my in-your-face boy. It’s my herd.

This is Willow.

She is about four months old.

“This is my house.”

“Rawr. don’t come near my house. k?”

“Is my house too.”

munchie munch.

munch. Doesn’t that hay look tasty?

he definitely thinks so.

this is ice.

this is a broken fence. Fence-fixing is my second-least-favorite farm chore.

This is a pretty horse.

this is snowy field beautifulness.

This is pine forest beautifulness.

<3

And those are photos of my weekend.