A Call to Arms

This blog is a product of the belief that our food, our homes, our creative exploits are important. What we put in our bodies, the things with which we surround ourselves, and the things that inspire us MATTER. And our stories about these things are important, too.

A month ago, my man and I moved to Oregon (outside Portland) from Minnesota (Minneapolis). I’d been in the Twin Cities for seven years and in the Midwest all my life. Compounding the magic of my new region is the magic of our home with my future in-laws. In this big pretty house in the boonies, you’ll find three big dogs, our two kitties, a backyard with a hill and pasture and creek and giant slugs. And two loving parents, for whom I can do little but cook and bake to show my gratitude for their hospitality and openness. We won’t be here forever; we will get jobs, we will move out, we will buy a home. Et cetera. But until then, I have domestic projects here and all the support I could possibly want for attacking them.

I’ll primarily be writing about foooood. I went gluten-free three years ago by necessity and am loving the process of discovery that has followed. I learned to cook in college while living in a vegetarian co-op, so cooking meat has been a relatively recent adventure. And I have memories of my mother’s delicious and healthy cooking–the first “fusion” cuisine I ever experienced, being both Midwestern and Latin. There may have been casseroles at our dinner table in small-town central Wisconsin, but they had sabor! Our food and its history is our common denominator. Lull in the conversation? Talk tortillas–flour or corn? (Corn!) Talk regional cooking. Want to get to know someone? Ask them what they had for breakfast.

But you know that already, because you’ve found your way here.

Expect posts about Projects, too. When I was little, my mom always had Projects for us to do–whether we were decoupaging vases, making mosaics on coffee tables with broken dishes, re-grouting the bathtub, or rewiring lamps. She did a lot of Projects by herself, or with my adolescent assistance, but I was inspired every time she picked up the paintbrush and headlamp. Now, I have a partner in these sorts of domestic experiments. My fiance wants nothing more than to cut holes in walls, buy more drywall anchors, and build a fire pit in the back yard.

But I do all the knitting around here.

I promise not to post too many pictures of our cats (and yes, I know that “too many” is quite subjective). I promise not to overuse the word “toothsome.” I promise not to be That Girl in the restaurant who won’t let anyone take a bite before she snaps a picture of everybody’s dish.

I’m embarking on a fabulous Pacific Northwest domestic adventure, so grab your spoon and join me!

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7 responses to “A Call to Arms

  1. I’m the luckiest “future-mother-in-law” in the world !!!!!!!!!!!!

  2. First, lemme give what would result from a hug and a big thumbs up combined. That might be a thug. Anyway, I love you.
    Second, fire pit in the backyard. OMG. Have you heard of the Quincy Pizza Oven?

  3. Yay! congrats on the blog. I think you’d like my sister’s blog too – it is mostly art and crafty things, but other stuff too. And she posts things about her kitties all the time, so you shouldn’t worry about doing that too. http://www.twokitties.typepad.com

  4. Kristi Heintz

    It’s like reading “Adventure of a Parallel Life: Similar Latitude, Different Longitude”.

  5. love it! I’m hooked already 🙂

  6. Annie, my love, you are my favorite nut. Yep that means you beat out macadamias, pecans, coconuts, and even my mom.

    I can’t wait to read more. But wait does this mean with your blog, I get fewer emails? hmmm

  7. Hey, kid, Julia had NOTHING over you! You’re terrific, grama

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