Sea Stones with a side of Cherry Blossoms?

Stone Feather No 20 (this one... oy!  It's a BIGGIE)

Dwelling Stone No 5

Stone Feather No 19

Stone Feather No 21: The Days I Find The Blues

Dwelling Stone No 5: I rest where the robins live

Fearless: A Sea Stone for Remebering

A Quail Stone: Under California Skies

I've been breathing deep, deep breathes, pulling every last particle of cherry blossom scented air into my lungs while working on these photos.  It doesn't seem real, this corner of my desk alive with vibrant pink in this first week of February, but mine nose tells the truth.

Aahhhhhhhhh...

Off to get listy!

Winners in the Land of Marmal-Milk and Honey

I'm happy to report that lemon marmalade has made its appearance on my plate every day in this last week. Including the last 20 minutes wherein I finally made myself breakfast after waking waaaaaaaay too late and running out the door to my morning radiation appointment without even brushing my hair.  HEE!  (ok, so yes, there has been no hair to brush for months and months, but I had you for a second, didn't I?  Plus, I'm *nearing* full coverage up there, as the stubble is thickening up to a downy soft SHAVED HEAD LOOK.  I'll have my mohawk back in no time!).

Mmmnn... yee haw!

Back to the matter at hand.

Which is lemony goodness and three lucky ladies.

So upon arriving home and filling said belly, I utilized random.com, that old trusty friend and came up with three numbers, leading me to three names, which will ultimately lead me to three packages mailed out with California lovin'.

That said, will commenters 8, 17, and 33 please step forward?  Or if you don't feel like counting,

Andrea of Crownology

Kathleen of Gaia Metal 

and

FirePan54

(Friends, drop me an email at kclarkstudios[at]gmail.com with your addys please!)

HUZZAH!
After reading ALL of your comments, I wished SO very much that I could send every last one of you a jar of liquid gold!  Thank you endlessly for taking the time to enter - you've made these jamming fingers itch for water baths and fruit by the bushel!  So much so, that I do think come summer fruiting season, the giveaways may need to continue...

But for today,

I'm feeling the need to mix paint.
What would you feel about a little sea stone shop update tomorrow, Wednesday the 9th, say around 12:00 pm PST?  Yesterday this jackrabbit sprung from my paintbrushes with a stamp of fuzzy toes and a twitch of elegant ears to join the warren I've been creating.  I truly can not stop.  And truly, I don't want to.

If this jackrabbit full of sight belongs to you, I'd be happy to reserve her - just drop me an Etsy convo right here.

Off to get painty!
- Umber

GiveAway! A Tasty Bit of California Sunshine

I'm in a tart and tasty heaven.

All those meyer lemons I mentioned the other day?  Homegrown in the sweetness of the California sun and hand-delivered by one of my oldest friends?  Well I sliced and diced, steeped and simmered, sweetened and sauced up a whole mess of them into the most glittering jars of marmalade.  Now I know that plenty of people out there are not big fans when it comes to marmalade, that rot-your-teeth-out-in-one-bite business (usually of the smuckers variety - blech), but this, THIS is a whole different beast.

It's sweet, but tart enough to never be cloying, so fresh that you can nearly smell the trees they were grown on, and set to firm texture with perfectly delicate slices of zest.  I think it would be brilliant on scones, smeared over toast with a slice of romano, or just by the spoonful.  I'd never judge you.

And I canned three jars for you, because this sunshine gracing the west coast is too good to not share.

If you like to be entered into a drawing for a little package of warmth and lemony-deliciousness, all you need to do is leave me a comment below!  Say whatever you like, no rules, no restrictions, just all love for you on this gorgeous Friday!

I'll draw, very randomly, three names next Tuesday morning, February 8th for the three homes these jars are destine to!

Pucker up baby!

The Friday Confessional: February 4th, 2011

Confession Number 71 :

I'm addicted to the buttons.  As in, full blown cardi-a-holic.  I figured the actual number was just in the teens, but in a fit of honesty, I counted and friends, it's in the upper twenties.

(Thank God BC is out of town and probably not reading this post)

(Also thank you God that we do not share a closet, and therefore he has little reason to add up the sweaters)

I began a discussion yesterday (on the ol' facebook) asking just how many cardigans one could have while still maintaining some sense of preservation and based on the comments received, the answer is:
(drum roll please)

Infinity.

It was like a support group for cardi-druggies - those of us strung out on cotton and cashmere, whose fingers start to shake if we go too many days without buttoning up.  I felt like a needed a donut or something afterwards (instead I had a small roll slathered with lemon marmalade, but more on that later).

One of the most brilliant outcomes of that little fess-up is a new site, put together on the spot by Miss Désirée Fawn, aptly titled The Cardigan Confessional (name curtesy of my Em, also of the cardigan-persuassion) where one can submit and peruse the best in cardigan imagery and acceptance.  

The best thing about a cardi-addiction?  You're in an elite group of women who know how to look smashing.

I feel absolved of my stripes.
Your turn ladies

Fess it up!

Unseasonable

So I hear it's storming.  Dumping buckets and buckets of snow, sleet, hail, slish and slosh, temperatures plummeting to single digits.

I'm envious when I look at your snow.  Those glistening hillsides, the flush on your cheeks, the icicles hanging merrily from your eaves.  I pine, truly and deeply, for the cold to bite my lips and the snow to stick to my boots.  I miss the sharp intake, the snap on skin, the festivity of the weather.

But then I look down and see blue suede flats on my feet and a sack of cheery meyer lemons waiting on the counter.  And I fall in love with California all over again.

I have plans this afternoon to bottle up some of this sunshine into a few glittering jars of marmalade, maybe with a sprig of rosemary for the infusing.  Experimental canning, but I've faith in my culinary skills (although there was a experimental tempeh incident last week... that resulted in frozen pizza) and the homegrown goodness of these sweet things.  The truth is, I'm just greedy for jam.  It's my excuse to eat another slice of bread.  And in the dark (Bright! Chilly! Sunshine!) days of winter as my stash of preserves dwindles, I feel the itch to fire up the stovetop and let the scent of zest fill the house.

BC and I treated ourselves to breakfast out this morning, our most gluttonous of pleasures, and a tradition whenever one of us leaves on a trip.  I had the eggs bennie with tofu-bacon and, as my restless leg would reveal, too much coffee.  I think the pup and I might need to run a few laps around the backyard just to settle into the afternoon.
Have I mentioned?
He's a battering ram on stilts.
Nearly 35 pounds of teenage maniacal energy with the wiggliest butt and the biggest paws and MUDDY STICKS COMING INTO MY HOUSE ON THE HOUR.  Sigh.  He found the Christmas wreath in the compost pile this morning and hand delivered approximately ten million pine needles to me.  Again.  Sigh.
But the truth is, I wouldn't give it up for a single second.
Because in the afternoons, he sleeps under my studio chair in the sunny spot and let's me warm my toes on his belly.
And I cave like warm jelly.

OOH!

Breaking News!  While writing this post right here and now, my sister has booked tickets to see THESE GUYS.  It's about time; I've been waiting for their new album with baited breath for the last two years.  And that's too long a time to keep your breath baited.

Thai has been singing "Helplessness Blues" for the last 24 hours straight.  He loves the Fleet Foxes.  Not as much as say, Tupac (he was born with with a booty shake), but the whole folk-thing has really been growing on him.