So one recent morning when there was a bright, blue-sky break from the rain, we made some tea and hauled it up our local hill. And now, we have a special name for this tea: bog tea.

This happened accidentally. We couldn’t find the top to our thermos, so we poured the tea into this swing top bottle. We brought mugs, a little jar of sugar, and toasted marmalade sandwiches.

We all know that things taste better outside. Now, I also think that things taste better when they have been carried in glass. Maybe this is just sentimental, but as we sat atop our craggy local peak, Mike told me about his Mom, who grew up in Sligo in Ireland. There was a bog at the end of their country road, and during the time of year when everyone would pitch in to cut and stack their turf for the year, Mike’s mom would bring tea out in an old whiskey bottle, already milked and sugared, for the regular tea breaks.

So in honor of St Paddy’s Day, I suggest that you brew some good, strong Irish tea, carry it outside, and drink in the world.  

A new project to take on spring showers is up at The Washington Post. This was a great project to create and work on because, really, when do you ever consider an umbrella DIY fodder? Give one of your dark workhorse umbrellas a punchy makeover with bright stacks of nylon circles, tacked down with buttons for extra dimension and homespun charm.

Get the step-by-step right here.

I loved that an assemblage of seemingly random goods offered a glimpse into someone’s personality and peculiarities. So I’m going to revive the idea here, but keep it at a more manageable list of five items (partly because of my remedial photoshop skills). I’m kicking off the feature with my favorite things of the moment. But I have some wonderful guests on tap to tell us about their favorite five, so stay tuned.

1. Magnolia Blossoms: Spring in Northern California arrives in February (sorry, East Coasters), starting with the cherry trees snowing down their delicate blossoms. Next up are magnolias. Their big, showy blooms  unfurl slowly before the tree leafs out, making their emergence even more dramatic. (image from Etsy seller honeytree)

2. Seed Packets: I just learned that Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds just opened up an outpost in Petaluma, one of my favorite Norcal towns. I am in full spring fever mode right now, deciding what to try and grow in my small little backyard plot. Their dizzying range of choices does not make these decisions any easier, but I savor the process. (image from Sunset magazine)

3. Alabama Studio Style: More on this in a couple weeks when Natalie drops by for a blog visit. Needless to say, my dining room table is covered in piles of soft cotton jersey, as I practice hand-sewing and stitching. All for a project from her new book, which is chock full of inspirational designs and living.

4. Frye Boots: Tall boots make skirts possible here in chilly San Francisco. I have a beat up pair of vintage Frye boots that no amount of polish can restore at this point, but I hope to still be wearing them as a senior citizen for weekly Bingo games. This winter, I splurged on a new pair with a lower heel so I can walk all day and my feet are still ready for dancing at night.

5. Lemon Squeezer: It’s citrus season here in California, and our neighbors' trees are lit up with aromatic yellow spheres. I love citrus and this perfect tool makes it easy to keep a constant supply of lemon water close at hand: I squeeze a lemon in a pitcher of fizzy water for my desk. And when I can convince neighbors to spare some lemons, this genius tool makes curd-making quick and easy.

One of the great things about traditional marmalade recipes is that you cut all the peel and pulp and let the whole shebang soak for 24 hours. So you can chip away at the process and steal a little bit of a sunny morning to do some prep work, then skip off to work knowing you have a pot of winter sunshine in the works.



After getting our shoes sandy and breathing in big lungfuls of salty air, we stepped out of the chill for bone-warming hot chocolate at the serene and lovely Trouble Coffee, followed by a slow wander through General Store – a new shop with great light and plain wood shelves artfully filled with a bang-on, perfect collection of everything from postcard sets to succulents to porcelain cans and vintage Irish sweaters. (click here for a great peek and review)

Thanks to Sunset magazine for the tip-off about the outer Sunset gems. So worth the train ride. Especially because my niece requested that we sing Christmas carols on the ride home, for no apparent reason other than to make us all smile, along with lots of our confused, but sweetly amused, fellow passengers.



lovely card from letterpress, at etsy

This is a gauzy, haphazard embellishment that will likely make true seamstresses cringe. But sometimes you need a down-and-dirty 30 minute project to flounce up a shirt that is otherwise so very grey.

Follow along with instructions and photos right here.

I was not intentionally fishing for more seaweed uses, but then I was flipping through the back pages of my favorite old school Irish cookbook and came across a recipe for a seaweed throat syrup, just as my throat was feeling scratchy. So I it cooked it up and holy moley, it was fiercely bad. So bad that I felt it must work for people to have choked this stuff down for years. The hot tea smells and tastes like a humid aquarium, flavored ever-so-slightly with lemon and honey.

I couldn’t make it through the big mug, so I let it cool and now have this syrupy concoction in the fridge. Somehow, it tastes a little better cooled. And the seaweed makes a natural syrup so I can take it by the spoonful, even though it looks a little like frog spawn or sci-fi protoplasm.

Now that I have really enticed you, here is the recipe, adapted from The Ballymaloe Cookbook by Myrtle Allen:

Soak ¼ cup carrageen moss for 10 minutes in a cup of water. Remove, discarding water. Add moss to a saucepan with 1¼ cups fresh cold water and bring to a boil slowly. Strain and add honey and fresh lemon juice to taste. Drink hot or cool and add a couple tablespoons to tea, or take straight spoonfuls from the bottle.



As I’ve been admiring the pale new clumps of blossoms, I noticed that we have an early spring still life of sorts on our mantel. We picked up this little glass fitting at a flea market recently, and turned it into a lamp with the flicker of a candle (there’s a little opening in the back so it doesn’t get too hot – but you could use a battery “candle” too). And the candlesticks in the background were a kind of accident: we were taking apart a busted lamp realized that the blocks making up the base were perfect candleholders, as is.

One of those happy realizations that surprises me as much as cherry blossoms in February.