Enchantment Learning & Living Blog

Welcome to Enchantment Learning & Living, the inspirational space where I write about the simple pleasures, radical self-care, and everyday magic that make life delicious.

Lavender Gimlet

April 20, 2014

This time of year, I always start craving bright, fresh cocktails that are evocative of the season's bounty--fledgling herbs and the green citrus notes that seem to permeate the air come April. They are a great way to kick off a fun Saturday night dinner or linger over with a friend in the garden.

One of my all-time favorite spring cocktails is the gimlet. Cousin to the margarita and the whiskey sour, it is a simple mixture of freshly squeezed lime juice and gin, easy to make and so refreshing--especially after a day of gardening! I was contemplating a gimlet for this very reason last night while tending to my lavender when a thought occurred to me. Wouldn't my gimlet be just divine with a hint of lavender flavor? Yes, yes it would. And it was.

Some people prefer to make gimlets with vodka, but for this recipe, the herbaceousness of a good gin compliments the lavender nicely. I used the local Santa Fe Spirits' Wheeler's Gin, but any quality gin will do. Also, use fresh lime juice--that neon green fake stuff at the liquor store is just plain gross and the bottled stuff doesn't have the zing you need to balance out the sweetness of the lavender simple syrup. To learn how to make this easy, simple syrup recipe, click here.

Cocktail Ingredients:

1.5 oz lime juice (1 shot)

3 oz gin (2 shots)

ice

.75 oz lavender simple syrup (1/2 shot)

Combine all ingredients in a shaker and shake well. Pour into a glass and enjoy!

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

Lavender Simple Syrup

April 19, 2014

I absolutely love lavender! I like to use it as a simple perfume, a spritz of aromatherapy, a fancy topping for a spring salad, sprinkled in my baked goods, and, of course, as an extra zing to my drinks. It has a rich, floral taste that compliments just about anything and has amazing healing properties, too.

Not only is it antiseptic, but it's also a gentle pain reliever and overall nerve tonic. I like to make this simple syrup to have on hand to add to lemonade or cocktails to make them feel extra special. It even elevates everyday sparkling water to a fancy lunchtime beverage. Spring seems like the perfect time to keep this simple syrup on hand as it is evocative of the fresh, floral energy of the new season.

Ingredients:

3 tablespoons dried lavender buds

1 cup sugar

1 cup water

To make the simple syrup, bring water and lavender to a boil. Stir in sugar until fully dissolved. Reduce heat. Simmer for 5 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool. Strain out lavender buds and pour syrup into a mason jar. Store in fridge for about one week.

On Watching the Robin Build Its Nest

April 4, 2014

It is far too cold out today for it to really feel like spring, certainly too cold to muster the energy for the potted gardening plans you had been only too eager to work on when it was warmer. Your breath streams out in thick white clouds before you as your venture out onto your patio. You feel winter's fingers hugging the earth for one last time, before letting it go--wistfully almost, as if winter knows that as soon as it's gone, nature will turn to another lover, spring, where it will happily settle into the new season's warm embrace.

The robin in the tree, however, feels none of this. For this bird, winter is already good as gone. And so it flits from tree to tree, gathering brittle leaves and other ephemera to build its nest. Spring is here. There is much to do.

You watch this robin swoop down to the ground, gathering dried grass in its beak, hopping over the empty fountain, in search of stray bits of thread and fluff for its new home. In the cold that is almost too much for you to bear, even snuggled in your plush robe, you can't take your eyes off this bird as it takes its treasure. What others might see as debris and nature's castoffs, this bird uses to build itself a shelter nestled in the crook of two gnarled branches high up in the tree outside your window.

This robin builds its home tenderly, tucking dried grass here and there into the folds of its perfectly round nest, fussing over the sticks and leaves that make up the plush foundation of its home. Busy, busy. The home must be built for soon it will be time to settle in and lay those eggs, to care and nurture that new life.

Finally, the cold has got the best of you, and you make your way inside, but not before you cast a glance at your potting soil and seeds in the corner of your patio. Soon, soon, you will tend your home too. You will flit here and there, gathering supplies for your garden. You will fuss over the seeds and the arrangement of pots. You will even leave out bits of dried plants and thin strips of bark for the robin.

On the First Bird to My Bird Feeder

March 26, 2014

I would like to thank you, brave soul, the first to venture into my homemade bird feeder.

Built from a small blue colander, fishing wire, and more gumption than crafting know-how, it was my ode to spring, my gesture of goodwill to you lovely birds that fill my mornings with sweet songs and my nights with quiet lullabies.

How long I have been courting you, dear birds! How long have I been scattering seeds around the perimeter of my little patio--advertising the new restaurant in town. Yet still my feeder sat, filled with too much birdseed, forlorn and untouched by anything but this brash March wind.

I know the perils you face dear birds--the cats living above me make no secret of their desire to have you visit their patio. I spied them one night, sipping wine after a long day at work. I looked up to find their little heads peeking over their patio awning to peer into mine.

Aha! I told myself. It is the cats that have scared you birds away. I will give you a safer place to feed. So I put my bird feeder safely inside my patio, away from the prying eyes of cats. I scattered more seed. I waited. I hoped. Eventually, I began to reconcile myself to the fact that none of you would visit.

It was in that frame of mind that I once again went out to my patio to enjoy a glass of wine. And there you were--my brave little friend! My one lone adventurer who risked the cats and dove into my bird feeder and gobbled up seeds. I thank you. What's more, I'll put out more bird seed for you. For you and your friends. Please come again--soon!

Signs of Spring No. 1

March 6, 2014

And once again, spring is upon us!

On the Doves Outside My Window

March 1, 2014

Every morning they greet you with their cooing and cuddling.

They perch on the thick branches of the naked tree just outside your window, warbling and fluffing their feathers and flitting around each other in an ancient mating dance. Those two are your writing companions, punctuating each of your sentences with their full-bellied song. This time of year, the leaves of the tree do not hide their presence--and so you see them, in all their glory, as they go about their day, flirting, singing, flying.

You need no other music but their song and the flap of their wings as they wind around each other, circle the tree and dart around other birds--their neighbors the finches and sparrows. They remind you that spring is almost here, that the earth is already preparing for the new season, that seeds are sprouting in the ground, getting ready to push their little heads skyward.

These doves are proof that life is more than just one keystroke after another, but a continuous dance, a never ending song, a bright burst of flight over the tree, out of range of your windowsill, and towards the mountains. They are your evidence that life is in the quiet moment where you pause and simply listen to the doves' song and watch as they playfully chase each other from branch to branch and then take flight.

Orange Lavender Tea

February 9, 2014

This time of year, I always have the faint longing for spring. I eye the ground hopefully, looking for that first almost-there flower bulb peeking out of the earth, its green shoots braving the cold winter air, while its roots stay firmly snuggle underground. I begin to think of my garden, of the radishes and lettuces I wish to plant. I find there is no better remedy for this early spring fever than a cup of Orange Lavender tea--it has the subtle brightness of spring from the citrus and the soothing floral aroma of winter's passing from the lavender. So when you find yourself longing to be in the dirt sowing those first seeds in your garden even though spring is still a long way off, console yourself with this gently fortifying blend.

Ingredients:

1/2 cup tulsi

1/2 cup dried orange peels

1/4 cup lavender

1/4-1/2 cup spearmint (depending on how minty you want it to be)

Blend all ingredients in a bowl and transfer to an airtight container. Keep away from direct sunlight and heat. To brew, use a heaping tablespoon per cup of hot water. Add more tea per cup of water for a stronger brew. Makes approximately two cups of tea. Enjoy!

Health properties of ingredients:

Dried orange peel: contains vitamins A, B, and C; unblocks stagnant energy.

Lavender: a traditional nerve tonic and relaxant; antiseptic and antibacterial.

Spearmint: soothes nerves, motion sickness; cures headaches, cramps, sore throats, and stomach aches.

Tulsi: helps body adapt to stress by balancing out cortisol levels, antibacterial, and anti-fungal.

On the View Outside My Office Today

February 4, 2014

So it snowed last night in Albuquerque and I woke up to a desert city powdered with snowflakes. Then this glorious winter-scape greeted me when I got to work. Seriously have no words for this kind of beauty, so I will let the picture speak for itself.

On Snowshoeing

January 3, 2014

There is no sound lovelier than the kiss of snowshoes on fresh snow as you glide through the sun-filled forest, marveling at the delicate tree branches coated in ice crystals.

Each step takes you further and further away from your cares until you are left with nothing but the methodical rhythm of your snowshoes flowing along the path and the sound of winter birds flirting in the trees above.

Snowshoeing is not the frantic, fast-paced drama of downhill skiing, as snowboarders whiz past you on the slopes and a helmet is advisable; nor is the plodding of cross-country skiing, with too-long feet and laborious trekking across an open field.

It is a moving meditation of heart, breath, feet--each step at once grounding you to the earth and lifting your spirits above the tree line. For several hours you are only nature's grateful visitor, sun and snow your welcome companions. You pause to admire the canyon below, feeling the world open up to you.

It is no longer small cubicles and meticulously scheduled days, but an expansive never ending abundance calling to you, beckoning you to remember a fuller, bigger life.

So you turn from the view and continue your journey deeper into nature, grateful for this reminder to always live expansively.

Lingering Effects of the Harvest Moon!

October 4, 2013

I'm sitting at my vintage secretary style desk from the late 1800s, sipping from a fall themed mug and writing.

I was able to get off work a little early to enjoy the crisp air and the golden late-afternoon sunlight. It is a sweet gift. Earlier in the kitchen, I played with my herbs. I think I'm on the brink of a new tea blend--a pinch of alfalfa, an even bigger pinch of chamomile, a smidge of fennel seeds, and two or three calendula buds. I let these healing herbs mingle in hot water and savor the earthy sweetness of the blend.

That's me.

I love quiet moments in the kitchen, tinkering with a new soup recipe or tea blend or body butter. I love snuggling in my jammies and reading a good fantasy novel at night (yes, with a cup of tea). I love crafting and will literally coat just about anything in glitter if left unsupervised. I love carving out time in my day to relish these simple pleasures of self-care and domestic bliss--not an easy feat considering that a teacher's job can easily go on and on and on....if I let it.

But I don't. Why? Because I believe in the power of self-care and enjoyment to make the workday smoother, the weeks bursting with the fullness of living a balanced life. Yeah, it can be hard sometimes to carve out that time, but it's worth the effort.

I'm turning these thoughts over in my head as I reflect on the bounty of this year's harvest moon or the full, golden moon that hovers in this sky every autumn equinox. Legend has it that the harvest moon is a beacon of abundance for the coming year, symbolizing the plenty of both the literal farmer's harvest and the ephemeral harvest of spiritual well-being that comes from living a balanced life. It is the moon of transitional energy, shifting away from the outward moving cycles of summer towards the inward, more contemplative activities of fall and the coming winter.

This year's harvest moon is especially important to me, as it was under this prophetic moon that I made an important transition myself. Overworked, sick (first a cold, then allergies), I found myself completely spread thin between adjusting to my first full-time teaching job and attempting to keep my tutoring business afloat. I loved both jobs dearly, but somewhere between a bowl of chicken noodle soup and struggling to grade my first round of student essays, I realized something: these wonderful opportunities were beginning to feel like horrible burdens as I attempted to give 110% to both things, which is saying nothing of my desire to have an actual personal life.

It was clear something had to change. When I first moved back to New Mexico, it was so I could teach and live a full life in the Land of Enchantment. Yet here I was, living the frantic life of my graduate school years: too much work, too little self-care. When I was in school, I didn't always have a choice about my workload, but now, I realized, I did. So I made a change--I let my tutoring go. It was hard at first to give up something I had spent so much time and energy bringing into the world, but as the weeks went by, I felt better, was happier teaching, and found myself with more delicious moments when I could stare out at the Sandia Mountains and just breath. After all, so much of my philosophy as an educator is centered on helping students find that proper balance between school, life, and work...so I have to practice my creed if I want to continue being a nourishing educator and happy person.

I am grateful for this harvest moon and the wisdom it offered me as I made my transition: it taught me that to find that joyful abundance of our lives, we have to let go of things that no longer serve our sense of personal well-being. In doing so, we create space for healthier, more productive ways of going about our lives.

It isn't always easy to find balance in your life, but if you take the time to pause, even just to linger over the golden sunlight filtering through the slowly turning leaves, there is everyday wisdom and enjoyment to be found.