Happy Thanksgiving!

 

Wishing all who are celebrating a very Happy Thanksgiving, and a very Happy Thursday to those that aren't! I'm grateful for you and that you take time out of your day to read my thoughts and share yours. Thank you!

(I post this same picture every year on Thanksgiving, but it's simply because I like it so much and it says exactly how I feel.)

Unraveled Wednesday: 11/27/24

I'm joining Kat and the Unravelers today with the re-knit, improved, and finished blue hat. 

After unraveling the original blue hat, I re-knit it with size 5 needles for the ribbing, added the fold line in the ribbing, and repeated the cable pattern a second time. This made the hat 9.5" deep which is so much better than the original 7.25". 

Now I've got two hats for Justin for Christmas, and the only thing on my needles is the Sparkly Hitchhiker. It hasn't yet reached the boring stage but I would like to finish it up before it becomes a tiresome knit. I've been working on it while I bake pumpkin pies, apple crisp, and croissants for our Thanksgiving meal tomorrow. And speaking of giving thanks, I'd like to offer a big thank you to Kat for hosting Unraveled Wednesday every week. I'm grateful that she provides a place for all of us to connect, along with talking about our making and reading. It's truly one of the highlights of my week and I thank you, Kat!

 

Last week I did a fair bit of reading. The first book was The Serviceberry by Robin Wall Kimmerer. It is a poetic and thought-provoking exploration of our relationship with nature, community, and the concept of giving. In this essay-length work, Kimmerer, who is known for her blend of Indigenous wisdom and scientific expertise, asks readers to reimagine their place within the natural world.

Using the serviceberry tree as a focal point, she reflects on the idea of reciprocal relationships, challenging the scarcity mindset of modern economies. The serviceberry becomes a symbol of generosity, as its fruit nourishes birds, animals, and humans alike without expectation of repayment. Kimmerer draws from her Potawatomi heritage, blending ecological insights with stories that emphasize interdependence and gratitude. One of the most powerful aspects of the book is its call to embrace a "gift economy," where the act of giving nurtures bonds between people and the land.

At just over 120 pages (two hours for the audiobook version read by the author), this small but impactful work reads like a meditation, making it perfect for those who appreciate reflective, nature-focused literature. It doesn’t delve into as much detail as her other works like Braiding Sweetgrass, it serves as an accessible introduction to her philosophy and writings. This essay is ideal for readers who want to deepen their appreciation for the natural world and consider the broader implications of generosity in both ecological and human communities. I gave it three stars.

I also finished The War I Finally Won by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley.  It is a gentle, poignant continuation of the story that began in The War That Saved My Life. This sequel dives deeper into the emotional complexities of Ada, as she navigates the struggles of World War II, trauma, and healing, while also confronting and accepting her own growth and newfound sense of family. In the first book, she found her strength and voice; in this one, she learns to face her fears and embrace her place in the world. The war may be on the horizon, but Ada’s personal battles—against self-doubt, guilt, and the scars of abuse—are just as formidable. It’s a reminder that courage isn’t just about facing external battles, but also about confronting the emotional scars we carry inside. Bradley has written the setting of wartime England, with its small yet significant moments of joy amidst the chaos, with care and detail so readers can almost feel the weight of wartime anxiety. I enjoyed this four-star read almost as much as the first book. 

Lastly, I read an ARC entitled Mothers and Sons by Adam Haslett. It tells the story of 40-year-old Peter Fischer, an immigration lawyer, and his mother, Ann, an Episcopal priest who runs a spiritual retreat. Anne and Peter have been estranged since Peter was a teenager, and Haslett very slowly reveals details about their sexuality (they are both gay) and the harrowing event that drove mother and son apart.

The author has woven many heartbreaking details about Peter's work with those seeking asylum into the story. Ann has been hurt by the distance from her son but she also enjoys the life she has built after leaving Peter's father. When Peter becomes unusually involved with Vasel Marku, a young gay Albanian man seeking asylum over fears he’ll face homophobic persecution, the estranged mother and son are forced to face their own fears and guilt. Haslett takes the long way around to tell this tale, and while I kept reading to see what had driven mother and son apart, I'm not sure that the slow narrative was the best way to tell their stories. Three and a half stars rounded up.

Thank you to Little, Brown and Company and NetGalley for providing me with a copy of this book. It will be published on January 7, 2025.

What are you making and reading this week?

Dusting

I hope the title didn't mislead you into thinking I was actually dusting! Well, maybe just a little bit; I did dust the dining room table before I arranged the tablecloth on it. I wanted to have a place to set the pumpkin pies and apple crisp that I'm making today. But I digress. While I was doing this small amount of dusting, I found myself admiring the motes dancing in the sun coming through the window. I thought, "Surely, there must be a poem about this," and I was not surprised to find a perfect one. I'm sharing it with you, in case you might also be doing the tiniest bit of dusting .

Dusting

by Marilyn Nelson

Thank you for these tiny
particles of ocean salt,
pearl-necklace viruses,
winged protozoans:
for the infinite,
intricate shapes
of submicroscopic
living things.

For algae spores
and fungus spores,
bonded by vital
mutual genetic cooperation,
spreading their
inseparable lives
from equator to pole.

My hand, my arm,
make sweeping circles.
Dust climbs the ladder of light.
For this infernal, endless chore,
for these eternal seeds of rain:
Thank you. For dust.

====

Nelson, Marilyn. "Dusting". Magnificat, Louisiana State University Press, 1994.  

You can read more about Marilyn Nelson here.  

==== 

 I hope you are enjoying the dancing dust motes, or maybe appreciating it just a little bit.

A Gathering of Poetry: November 2024

It's the third Thursday of the month so I'd like to welcome you to A Gathering of Poetry.

I often worry about finding a good poem for each month's Gathering of Poetry, but I really shouldn't despair. I always come across something wonderful, and this month is no exception. I first read this poem in The Washington Post Book Club newsletter, just three days after the horrifying election. It struck me as perfect (as so many poems are) so I'd like to share it with you. Ron Charles (book critic at The Post) introduced it this way: "At a moment when hate and criminality seem to have triumphed, many people feel the urge to withdraw in despair. This poem reminds us that deliberate burrowing can be an expansive, enriching pursuit." I wholeheartedly agree. 

Lumbricus terrestris 
by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

On a day when the world is weighty,
  dark and dense with need,
    I want to be the earthworm
      that gives itself over to tunneling,
  its every movement an act
    of bringing spaciousness.
      And when minutes feel crushed by urgency,
  I want to meet the world wormlike,
    which is to say grounded,
      consistent, even slow.  
No matter how desperate the situation,
    the worm does not tunnel faster
      nor burrow more.
  It knows it can take decades
    to build fine soil.
      To whatever is compacted,
  the worm offers its good worm work,
    quietly bringing porosity
      to what is trodden, compressed.
  So often, in my rush to repair,
    I end up exhausted.
Let my gift to the world be
  my constancy, a devotion to openness,
    my willingness to be with what is.
      Let my gift to myself be patience
  as I tend what is dense and dark.

====

Trommer, Rosemerry Wahtola. "Lumbricus terrestris". The Unfolding. Wildhouse Poetry, 2024  

You can read more about the poet here.

====

Thank you for reading and joining us for our monthly Gathering of Poetry. You are more than welcome to add your link below if you would like to share one of your favorite poems. The more the merrier!

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

Unraveled Wednesday: 11/20/24

I'm joining Kat and the Unravelers today with the blue hat once again. I had hoped to be finished but I managed to do a bit more reading this week, so I'm just on the crown decreases. Twelve more rows and I'll be done. 

I'm really enjoying the simple cable crossings every other row so I might look for another project with similar characteristics. I do have the Sparkly Hitchhiker waiting in the wings so I'd also like to finish that soon-ish. 

Jane recommended The War That Saved My Life last week and I thought it was wonderful. It's a deeply moving historical novel that takes readers on a journey of resilience, healing, and the transformative power of love. Set against the backdrop of World War II, this middle-grade novel doesn’t shy away from complex emotions and difficult topics, making it equally compelling for both younger readers and adults.

The story follows Ada, a young girl born with a clubfoot, who has endured a life of abuse and neglect at the hands of her mother. When the evacuation of children from London begins, Ada seizes the opportunity to escape her grim existence. Along with her younger brother Jamie, she is sent to the countryside, where they are placed in the reluctant care of Susan Smith.

Bradley’s portrayal of Ada’s inner world is extraordinary. Her growth from a terrified, self-loathing child to a brave and self-assured young girl is beautifully paced. The story doesn’t oversimplify Ada’s trauma but instead shows how healing is a gradual, often painful process. Susan’s own struggles with loss and loneliness add depth to the story, creating a poignant parallel to Ada’s growth. The author’s depiction of wartime England is vivid and immersive, bringing the historical setting to life without overshadowing the emotional core of the narrative.

This book is as heartwarming as well as heartbreaking. It’s a story that reminds us of the enduring human capacity for kindness and courage, even in the face of cruelty and adversity. I haven't been able to concentrate very well on reading since the election results and both the subject and the fact that this is a middle grade novel made it a perfect book for me at this time. I am anxiously waiting for the sequel The War I Finally Won from the library. This was 4.5 stars for me, rounded up because Jayne Entwistle is a wonderful narrator for the audiobook.

I also read several other books. One was The Wood at Midwinter by Susanna Clarke.  It was a quirky little story but the illustrations were quite captivating; I gave this one three stars. What Does It Feel Like? by Sophie Kinsella is an interesting semi-autobiographical novella. While Kinsella is best known for her light, feel-good romantic comedies, this is slightly more introspective. Kinsella was diagnosed with glioblastoma and to help process her feelings she wrote these vignettes about her brain tumor and treatment.

I found tender insights (especially because Kinsella and the novella's protagonist, Eve, are both mothers to five children) along with humor. I don't know if Kinsella and her husband are like this in real life, but she has written Eve with a lot of humor.

My main critique is that the novella's short format left me wanting more emotional depth and development. I realize it may be unfair to criticize the way the author chose to write the novella as she wrote it as a way to better deal with her feelings. Glioblastoma is a serious disease, and while humor is needed and necessary, I would have welcomed a more thorough work of non-fiction to better deal with the medical realities or the impact on family and relationships. This one gets 3.5 stars from me.

The last book I read this week was The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows by John Koenig. It's a poetic exploration of emotions and experiences that feel deeply familiar yet are unnamed. A mix of a linguistic treasure trove and a philosophical journey, this book turns the ineffable into language, offering readers the words they didn’t know they needed to articulate the complexities of their inner lives. John Koenig opens the book with this quote:

“I read the dictionary. I thought it was a poem about everything.” --Steven Wright

 and this book is just that. Each definition is more than a cold description; it’s accompanied by a narrative, vignette, or reflection that reads like poetry. Koenig doesn’t just define emotions—he evokes them, and his prose captures the deeply personal nature of these experiences.

Yes, the book is a collection of made-up words, but if you're a fan of poetry, philosophy, linguistics and the conjunction of them, you will most likely enjoy this four-star book as much as I did. As an example, here is one of my favorites:

aimonimia n. The fear that learning the name of something—a bird, a constellation, an attractive stranger—will somehow ruin it, inadvertently transforming a lucky discovery into a conceptual husk pinned in a glass case, leaving one less mystery to flutter around in the universe.

I read The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows and was entranced. 

What are you making and reading this week?

Poetry for a Monday

I find myself without anything much to say today but I am trying to maintain what is working and is good for me. Some of that includes sustaining a connection with this lovely community, so I've got a poem to share with you. Another thing that is working for me is spending time at my kitchen table - watching the birds, enjoying the sun, planning what I might want to cook, and thinking I really do need to scrub the kitchen floor. Maybe someday I'll actually do it. 

Perhaps the World Ends Here
by Joy Harjo

The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.

The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.

We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.

It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.

At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.

Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.

This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.

Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.

We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.

At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.

Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.

====

Harjo, Joy. "Perhaps the World Ends Here". The Woman Who fell From the Sky. W.W. Norton and Co., 1994.

You can read more about Joy Harjo here. 

====

I'm hoping there is peace and acceptance at your kitchen tables. 

Unraveled Wednesday: 11/13/24

I'm joining Kat and the Unravelers today with a decent bit done on the blue hat redux and some bonus sparkles.

Both of these have provided enjoyable knitting time when I feel the need to withdraw from the world for a while. The cable crossings in the hat are different every other row and this provides just enough for me to concentrate on without being overwhelming. Working on a Hitchhiker and knitting meditative garter stitch is good for what ails me, and the sparkles (even if you can't see them in the photo) make it even better. 

I haven't been able to concentrate enough to read much but I did manage Meditations for Mortals by Oliver Burkeman. I have previously enjoyed two of Burkeman's books, The Antidote: Happiness for People Who Can't Stand Positive Thinking and Four Thousand Weeks, so when I saw this one, I immediately placed a hold at my library. It seemed to take forever because they only had one copy, but I'd like to think that The Universe had a little something to do with me getting this book the week that guy was re-elected. While not specifically about that guy, Burkeman does offer ways for me to think about things that may make it easier to accept.

What is true is already so. Owning up to it doesn't make it worse. Not being open about it doesn't make it go away. And because it's true, it is what is there to be interacted with. Anything untrue isn't there to be lived. People can stand what is true, for they are already enduring it. - Eugene Gendlin

The author has arranged the book in short chapters and the reader is advised to read one each day. The first week is Being Finite; week two is Taking Action; the third week is Letting Go, and the last week is Showing Up. Burkeman suggests that peace comes not from adding more tasks and trying to accomplish them efficiently, but by accepting what we cannot do or control, a theme he discusses with honesty and humor. Unlike conventional self-help books, Burkeman’s work feels less prescriptive and more reflective, encouraging readers to confront uncomfortable truths about time, imperfection, and deciding whether you want to face the consequences of the choices you might be considering.

I've done a poor job of reviewing this book, but I think that almost anyone and everyone could benefit from reading it. Each of us has to decide what we care about and how we spend our time, and while these short chapters might be simple, that does not necessarily translate into easy or simplistic. As soon as I finished the book, I bought a copy because I knew this is a book I wanted to read, re-read, and truly absorb. I don't have four thousand weeks left, but I'd like to make the best use of and enjoy the approximately (hopefully) four hundred weeks left to me. Four and a half stars rounded up.

Just a note about the quotes Burkeman chose to include: I thought they were some of the most enjoyable things about the book, and they illustrate his ideas well. They are almost like fortune cookies in that they can apply to many situations and they are wonderfully entertaining at the same time.

If you find yourself lost in the woods, fuck it, build a house. "Well, I was lost, but now I live here! I have severely improved my predicament!" - Mitch Hedberg

What are you making and reading this week?

Bits & Pieces

It's time for me to re-enter the world, or at least reconnect with this lovely safe community. I've been feeling sad, disbelieving, knitting, baking, napping, and trying to read. These things have restored my center enough that it's time to write a post and I've got a few bits & pieces to share with you today.

• I have issues with Jeff Bezos and his decisions for The Washington Post, but the Post still has some terrific writers and columnists. Eugene Robinson writes about politics for the paper, and I thought this article was wonderful. 

• I felt the need to do something and donated to the ACLU. Here are other worthwhile places you can donate if you feel so inclined: Human Rights Campaign, Transgender Law Center, The Trevor Project, and I'm sure there are many others. Let me know in the comments. 

• Today is Veteran's Day, a day to honor America's veterans for their patriotism, love of country, and willingness to serve and sacrifice for the common good. It's still a federal holiday and in NJ also, but we no longer have a parade or laying of wreaths at the cemetery. My father was in the Army during the Korean War, but he was stationed in Alaska and shot a polar bear. Be sure to express your gratitude to a veteran today. 

• When things get tough, I tend to bake. I made these rolls to go with the venison stew we had for dinner, and they were just what I wanted. No whole grains, just soft and fluffy dinner rolls. They're also pretty good spread liberally with jam for breakfast or a snack. I've been thinking about a chocolate coconut donut that I used to get when I was a teenager, so when I get some coconut cream at the grocery store, I will be baking this cake. I'll let you know if it lives up to my memories. 

• Ryan's next door neighbor died about a month ago. Ben was a lovely man and fine neighbor, always ready with a smile and a friendly wave. He had a heart attack a year ago and his health had been going slowly downhill since then. His daughter is here from Salt Lake City to clean out the house and get it ready to sell. They have hired a service to clean things out, and this seems to mean getting rid of much of it in a dumpster. They've filled four dumpsters already and there may be more. We were up last week so John could pick the last of his second crop of snow peas. He was outside when they were cleaning out Ben's shed. They encouraged John to take anything that he could use, so he brought home a lawn spreader, sets of sawhorses, and a jug of antifreeze. John hates to see "good stuff" thrown away, so he was in the right place at the right time. He came inside and said he had a weird question for Ryan, "Did he want a harpoon?" I have to explain a bit and say that if you know Ryan at all, you would know that he has a taste for the strange and esoteric. So, yes, a harpoon would be right up his alley. He had just finished telling me about the new D&D character that he was building, Tom, an old mariner. I thought all D&D characters were young and magical, but Ryan said that he wanted to see if an older character could use his wits to survive in a magical setting. Tom would just have the usual weapons available to a mariner, like a harpoon. When John came in to ask if he wanted a harpoon, we were dumbfounded. So thanks to Ben, Ryan is now the proud owner of his own harpoon. I'd love to know the backstory about why Ben had a harpoon in his shed, but Ryan and I both thought it was far better than a lawn spreader or antifreeze. 

My hope is that for you, these next few days and weeks may offer you a bit of whatever it is you happen to need right now, whether it's cake, a harpoon, or something else. 

Unraveled Wednesday: 11/6/24

I'm joining Kat and the Unravelers today with a finished green hat and the beginning of reknitting the blue one that was originally too small.

I was completely happy with my modifications on the green hat, so I unraveled the blue hat and started reknitting a modified version. That lovely blue yarn was just too nice not to use, and four inches of K2P2 ribbing is the perfect way to keep my hands busy so my mind doesn't wander too far into Anxiety Land.

I read an interesting book last week, Shred Sisters by Betsy Lerner. It is a captivating and raw exploration of sisterhood, mental health, and resilience, narrated from the perspective of Amy Shred, the quieter, more responsible younger sibling who tries to manage the chaos her sister Ollie brings into their lives. Set in the 1970s to the early 1990s, the novel follows the sisters as Ollie’s bipolar and borderline personality disorder cause disruption, chaos, and heartbreak throughout their family.

Amy’s journey, which is marked by her struggle to reconcile her loyalty with frustration toward Ollie, forms the novel's emotional core. Betsy Lerner powerfully captures Amy’s internal conflict as she feels both love and resentment, especially as Ollie’s disorder brings instability to everyone around her. The narrative is laced with bittersweet reflections on unconditional love, personal boundaries, and the complicated bonds between family members. It felt like Lerner brought authenticity to her characters, rooted in psychological insights and nuanced portrayals of mental illness. The book felt emotionally intense but not terribly hopeful. The familial bonds did remain strong despite constant challenges in this debut novel. The characters in this novel had access to mental health professionals and enough resources to deal with the mental health issues for the long term. These are not always the case in real life. I gave this book three stars. 

I also read The Answer is No, a short story by Fredrik Backman. I rarely choose one of the free books available from Amazon Prime each month because I've often found that they are just not things I'm interested in reading. This short story was included as a bonus in November and I thought it was great. I won't give too much away, other than to say this: "Lucas knows the perfect night entails just three things: video games, wine, and pad thai. Peanuts are a must! Other people? Not so much. Why complicate things when he’s happy alone?" I couldn't agree more with Lucas, and if you get a chance to read this you can see if you do, too. This one was 4.5 stars for me. 

What are you making and reading this week?

(I thought about not posting today as there is honestly not enough knitting, reading, or vodka to make this okay. But I decided to keep calm and carry on because I'm going to have to start figuring out how to navigate the next four years without becoming angry, bitter, and disillusioned. Right now that's about all I'm feeling.)

Read With Us: Why You Might Want to Read Intermezzo With Us

I'm here today to present some reasons why you might want to consider reading our current Read With Us selection, Intermezzo by Sally Rooney. 

The first few reasons I came up with were relatively easy.

1. Immerse yourself in Intermezzo to distract yourself from worrying about the election and the results. I'm sure you've all voted and done whatever you can, so now is the time to read Sally Rooney's latest and most eagerly awaited novel.

2. There is no time travel in this one, and no nuns!

But here are a few more serious reasons:

3. Rooney provides a unique insight into young relationships. She's explored these in her previous books, and in Intermezzo she continues to explore the complexities of love, friendship, and the emotional currents that shape these relationships. If you enjoyed Normal People or Conversations With Friends, you'll appreciate how Intermezzo dives even deeper into these themes.

4. Intermezzo is filled with sharp, thought-provoking dialogue. Known for her knack for realistic dialogue, Rooney crafts exchanges that are honest, challenging, and often heartbreaking. Her characters express ideas and insecurities that resonate with readers, leaving you thinking about what was (and wasn't) said.

5. Rooney often tackles contemporary social issues like class, privilege, and the impact of economic struggles on personal lives. In Intermezzo, she also writes largely about grief. All of these themes are woven into the plot and characters' lives, inviting readers to reflect on their own experiences and the larger societal forces at play. I would argue that gender also figures largely in this novel. 

6. Rooney’s characters are frequently relatable and flawed, portrayed with a blend of vulnerabilities and strengths. In Intermezzo, these traits make her characters feel raw and real, allowing readers to see reflections of their own lives, fears, and desires in her prose.

7. Rooney has a signature style— atmospheric, intimate, immersive, and introspective—that pulls readers into her characters' worlds. The atmospheric quality of Intermezzo immerses readers in settings that are almost like the characters themselves, enhancing the emotional experience of the narrative.

8. Miscommunication and misunderstandings are central to Rooney’s narratives, reflecting real-life relational challenges. Intermezzo examines how people can be so close yet feel worlds apart, making readers contemplate how often we all fall short of truly understanding each other.

9. The narrative style in Intermezzo invites readers to examine not just the characters’ choices but their own responses to those choices. Rooney’s introspective narration encourages readers to consider their own viewpoints and possibly see their personal experiences reflected in the story. I'll admit that Peter's introspective chapters initially drove me nuts; they were a reflection of his inner thoughts so Rooney wrote them in fragments. Once I started listening to the audiobook, this was no longer a problem for me. 

And just to make it a nice even 10 reasons, John contributed this one:

10. Reading Intermezzo is something you can do quietly while others in your household nap. 

Kym and Carole will be doing promotional posts throughout November. Discussion day for Intermezzo is scheduled for Tuesday, January 7, 2025, at 7:00 pm Eastern time, so mark your calendars. We'll ask questions on our blogs that day and then host the always fun, educational, and entertaining Zoom discussion. 

I think this book is quite discussable and I do hope you'll Read With Us!

Old Dog/New Tricks

This old dog learned a couple of new tricks this weekend. I wanted to make the fresh ginger cake I wrote about on Friday but wasn't looking forward to peeling and slicing the knobby hunk of ginger I needed. A few minutes on the internet gave me a couple of the tricks I needed. The first thing I found out is that ginger can be peeled with a spoon. It was simple and there was no danger of cutting my fingers. The next thing I learned is that ginger can be blitzed in the food processor. I froze the peeled pieces for a few hours, put them in my food processor for a few seconds, and voilà, chopped fresh ginger to bake this:

It was delicious. This is not my grandmother's gingerbread, but a strong ginger cake. It was great with whipped cream

and I think it would be equally tasty with some vanilla ice cream. 

I hope your week is off to a good start and that you have cake or something just as yummy to carry you through the

rest of this fraught week. 

I Thought I Was Done

I thought I was done blanching, freezing, fixing, and figuring out ways to use the garden produce, but that was not the case. We went to visit Ryan and the garden earlier this week after a hard frost. The garden has already gotten frost three or four times before, but this time Mother Nature meant it. John managed to salvage a meal's worth of green beans and snow peas but then asked if I could do something with a five-gallon bucket of green tomatoes. I wasn't going to give out fried green tomatoes for Halloween, so I convinced him that just a big bowlful would be much better. Ryan found a recipe for tomato relish that sounded very interesting to me (no vinegar!) so I decided to try it. 

The first thing I learned was that fresh ginger is completely different than ground ginger. I cut off a hunk, peeled it, and reveled in the scent. After I added the cumin and lime juice and zest I was really hooked. 

I added the rest of the ingredients and then diced the green tomatoes for what felt like forever. In actuality, it only took about 90 minutes but I was quite happy that I did not have a five-gallon bucket full of the things. 

After all the peeling, juicing, zesting, and chopping, I put the pot on the stove to cook down. This recipe called for ripe tomatoes and cooking it down for approximately 30 minutes but I cooked mine down for about 90 minutes since I was using green tomatoes that were much harder.

I doubled the recipe and we had to have hamburgers on Thursday night so I could taste my relish. It's damn good! I love the taste of limes, cumin, and ginger, so I may be making more of this stuff with canned tomatoes once I finish these jars.

But for now, the good news is I have enough ginger left over for a fresh ginger cake, and enough limes to enjoy several vodka & tonics with plenty of lime, just like I like them. I'll be pacing myself with the drinks so I have enough vodka and limes to last through at least Tuesday (and I'll probably need to replenish the ingredients so I have more on hand for at least a week afterward). 

I hope you have a great weekend!