I turned 40 last Friday. My husband got me a throwing wheel. Now I spend all my evenings in the garden shed trying to master the clay. It's absorbing. He also arranged for me to learn horse driving. The horse I take care of is a very experienced roadster and he and a human teacher will teach me. I feel so grateful and I can't remember being this happy ever. Not primarily because of the gifts. But because the gifts show how much he knows me. And because I finally know what I want to do. 

This is roasted sweet potatoes with aioli, yellow beet roots with chevre and bruschetta. Not an ideal combination but still pretty good.

More fall. This morning, when out to get the morning paper, I waded through leaves. When stopping with my camera a maple leaf landed on my head. One by one they fall slowly and dignified to the ground. This Friday, when walking home from school with the kids we found a lilac in bloom. The fall has been so long and warm. Next years buds thought spring was here already. Very strange to smell lilac in late October. A fall storm and the trees will stand naked. The leaves swirling at their feet.

Last fall in this house. In this garden. I walk around the garden thinking about all the work we have done to make it ours. To me it's perfect now. In all its obvious imperfection. Hard traffic outside, the traffic has always been our greatest obstacle. But the garden is invisible from the outside now and when inside, the traffic buzz feels like a curiosity. To us a reminder of how much we love the city. In the summer when lying on the grass, you are surrounded by greenery. No one can see you and still the tube is only a two minute walk away. We love that about this house.

Our house is out on the market. These photos are from the ad. It feels exciting and strange. Less sad than I thought. I guess I have processed the whole thing for a long time. And I am so happy to leave the city. Another life is waiting. I am grateful that we have the opportunity. Here's the whole ad.

Finally. We are buying a farm. We will live in the country. We will have space, stillness, animals and hopefully we will have more time together.More to come.

This horse. When I am not with him I long for him. He doesn't cares for me at all. He is all about oats and apples.

My husband makes the most amazing pizza. The dough thin, chewy in the middle and crispy on the outside.The cook in John Irving's Last Night In Twisted River adds a little honey to his pizza dough. After reading the said novel I tried to impress my husband telling him to add a dash of honey to the dough and he kindly told me that he had done that for years. Ok. Anyway. This post is about telling you the greatness about thin sliced raw potato and garlic on top of a pizza. It sounds quite dull, I know, but it's heavenly. No tomato sauce, just potatoes, garlic, some fresh rosemary or thyme and flaked salt. And olive oil. Don't forget the olive oil. Lots.

On my door step today when coming home from work. A big basket full of King Bolete. I have the world's greatest in-laws.

After a nine week vacation I enjoy being awake watching my foggy morning garden. Summer slowly shifting into Fall may be my favorite time of year.

I planted these Japanese windflowers a few years ago. I could not imagine how fast and furious they would grow. The flower delicate and almost fragile but the plant and the foliage sturdy and determinate. These late summer evenings I watch the flowers grow high almost touching the fruit heavy branches of the apple trees.

This is cheese croquettes, pickled apples, mushrooms with parsley in olive oil and lemon, red peppers with ricotta cheese and anchovy. It was ok. The croquettes tasted kind of lame and the ricotta cheese needed more time in the fridge. But it was a fun meal to plan and prepare.

The porch is almost done. My husband built the wooden mobile last summer. We finally got it up. I looks like a giant dough hook slowly spinning in the air.

We are planning a move so our house will be for sale in a couple of months. Even though we are looking forward to the change and hoping for a new way of life it's a sad story saying goodbye to this much loved house. I keep telling myself that home is where we are and that everything has and end but still. I really truly love this house. The creaking of the stairs, the yearly struggle to fit the Christmas tree in our small living room,  the names we have for all the places/spots where things can get lost. "Go look on the mosaic shelf" "Have you checked the kiosk?" I do not consider myself a nostalgic person but I find myself spending my evenings going through my photo archives searching for pictures of this home. Sometimes just looking, sometimes, like with these, juggle about in photo shop. These two photos show a little bit of what I love about this house. The living room/kitchen floor is always a little bit too hot, the light always very warm. The upper, bedroom floor,  is cool and the light grayish. This post is totally therapeutic. There will be more. And I will get over it. 

 

We have a wonderful porch facing the back garden. This year we have used it for storage. A waste. Now the kids and I are working on reclaiming the porch. Cleaning and sewing. The sewing is hilarious because I really can't sew. Anyway, these are the colors I've chosen. Everyone is hesitant about the pink except me. I think it will look great.

The garden is out of control. It's a jungle of overgrown perennials and weed. These are the sweet spots.

It's a blueberry year. We went out and picked for a couple of hours today and will do so tomorrow as well. I feel rich.

We are at home. Loads of free weeks a head. I lay in bed with cross word puzzles, the kids play with friends, lego or video-games. The garden is a mess, as is the house. I tried to capture the state of the house but the camera makes mess beautiful. Tomorrow we have a grand opening to look forward to. There will be a lot of cookies for sale in my garden...

And back home. Isn't this what roses are made for? Climbing through fences, up trees, embracing entrances. Ghislaine the Féligonde and unknown clematis.