Ode to the Garden's Bounty

It is that time of year when everything is looking mighty tempting in the boyfriend's garden. The tomato plants were really whipped by a blight from all the rain but still managed to produce. They look a bit pathetic with so few leaves but are covered with the most important thing- big, juicy tomatoes!

These are some winter squash that are as big as bowling balls. I LOVE winter squash almost as much as I love my new Helenium!

The fenced off area where we keep the compost operation doubles as a grape arbor. This year the vines have crept right across the top creating a green gate way. It looks in to some old broccoli plants. If I squint my eyes a bit I can pretend I am in a French cottage garden.

Every year the boyfriend worries that the Poblano Peppers will not pull through, but this year looks to be another bumper crop. They are a favorite of mine. Their earthy and slightly piquant flavor makes the best Chile Rellenos.

He grows lots of things just for me- beets are one of them. They are a lot of work to prepare and cook, but they are a childhood food memory for me that makes me smile. These are the size of softballs!

I think I'll go eat!

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

The boyfriend has been pestering me to customize his old beater pick-up with agricultural plates for quite some time. He uses it to pick up hay, manure, etc.

Looks pretty speedy- aye? Covers up some rust too.

Day in the Life of My Garden- June 15, 2009

I returned to my gardens today to find them waterlogged and over run with weeds. It seems like it has been raining non-stop for two weeks ... which is only a slight exaggeration.

The big news in the garden is that the hole for the foundation of the windmill has been dug. It will be situated in our orchard for relative geographical proximity to all of our kitchen appliances which will want what it is making.

As you can see the trench to the house has been started and it is aimed towards my silver brocade artemesia- precipitating a vacation to the east for it for a few days while the electrical lines are put in- then right back to its previously scheduled growing program. I think it can handle it, but I will have words with the electrician about coming anywhere near my
monster Baptisia- the envy of many a gardening friend.

This a picture of the boyfriend who supervised and did quite a bit of the finish digging. It took him away from the important task of getting plantlings into the ground, but also took his mind off the most recent infestation of Rose Chafer Beetles.

Despite the sogginess and weediness there is also a certain loveliness to a very green, lush garden. A side benefit being that the coolness has extended the lifespan of my peonies & poppies. Pictured here is my Lady's Mantle- incomparable in bouquets and for the way water forms the most perfect little droplets on their leaves.

This is an unidentified Veronica that I inherited. It might be Crater Lake Blue. The color is stunning. I have it next to Lamb's Ear and Bath's Pinks.

Here is my Scarlet O'Hara Peony- a lovely single with a broad yellow center. This beautiful plant has made a few moves with me... graciously I might add. She tends to fade a little if it is too sunny while she blooms.

And finally a shot of the Diablo Ninebark I bought two years ago... with my Seashell Peony. I hate to trim the Ninebark's graceful arches so I think I will be forced to move the peony. The colors are great but the forms are competing.

Home Is Where the Heart Is

Photo of one of my favorite little pain-in-the-asskins all set to receive a potentially dangerous smooch in his safety goggles.


I went to a big schmooze event last night to rub elbows with the business community. I do these things periodically to keep my face and name in the public sphere. While it can be fun & enjoyable, it is ultimately work.

After much mingling, noshing and then later, when we were seated at tables, small talk with the people seated on either side of me my mind turned to the home front. The strain of constant mingling is tiring. Oh.... to be with those who elicit more natural responses...... silliness, quietness, grumpiness.

The feeling was too strong to resist. I gathered my things and made my way to the car. My dog must be telepathic because he was sitting in my seat staring right at me as I rounded the corner. I pushed him aside so I could climb in and then spent 5 minutes reassuring him, cuddling, kissing (on his part and mine) and high pitched keening for the heart ache he had endured.

Then the long drive home to my sweetheart, who was, of course, already in bed. He is an early to bed/early to rise kind of guy.

I have been listening to a book on tape to help make my long commutes pass. This time it is David Sedaris' "When You Are Engulfed In Flames." In one story he described the transition in a relationship from gulping down every little detail of your beloved to no longer having anything to discover. Soon you are left breathing heavily through your cell phone because there is nothing to say yet it is comforting to know that someone you love is at the end of the line. I often feel this way about my boyfriend and dog. I don't need to be engaged. It is often enough to know that they are sleeping somewhere nearby.

So I rushed home from a room full of people because I missed a houseful of my favorite sentient beings..... breathing heavily.

My Right Foot

So, I ran into a wall last Friday night which meant I screamed "Owwie" quite a bit. My boyfriend came running to find out what happened. I was still in the throes of screaming "owwie" and not so much into explaining what happened to me. I hadn't even had a glass of wine or anything. I was just plain old stupid or clumsy and caught my small toe ( I think) on the corner of a wall.

I am also still in a state of denial on the aging process. If I hurt myself I should just heal- right? Over the decades I have noticed this healing process slowing down to the point where, on occasion, it has forced me to consult a doctor. This might be turning into one of those times.

My first thought after injuring myself was- I hope this doesn't interfere with my walking. So the next morning I woke up and went for a 5 mile walk. A neighbor asked me to help her clear trees and branches off of trails for the up coming Carriage Riding Association Annual get together. What's a 3 mile walk after a 5 mile walk anyways?

As a sop to my orthopedic health I only took a short walk on Sunday.

Monday.... short walk again. I think my toes can bend again.

Tuesday. I think it feels better so how about a 5 mile walk and to top it off, lets wear high heels to work. I think the high heels were the death decision.

My whole foot has swollen up and my ankle is a little puffy. The skin has stretched tightly across my arch. What I thought was dirt between my toes has identified itself as bruising. The only shoes I can fit into are sandals. My boyfriend has extracted the blood pinkie promise that I will call the doctor tomorrow before the long weekend.

I have finally identified that life quality issue which will send me over the edge. Lots of people consider suicide when faced with terminal cancer. For some it is financial well being. If I can never walk again I will kill myself.

He Said, She Said- A Movie Review

"I rented Sense & Sensibility, Do you want to watch it?"

"Umm, sure.... let me just finish the dishes, I'll be right there."

This has been a point of friction in our house for quite sometime. Le Boyfriend is a movie buff. It was one of his biggest choices when we looked at this house in the middle of no where. He would no longer be able to hit the matinees just down the road at a moments notice and still be home to cook dinner.

I can practically count the number of movies I've seen in my lifetime on my two hands. I know for a fact that I like comedies. Romantic comedies are even better. Life is hard enough without having to relive all the crappy stuff on a big screen. Le boyfriend refers to my type of movie as another stupid, frickin' Julia Roberts film. But he keeps trying to lure me into watching a movie with him.

For him it is not a film till it has a lot of noise, death, blood and hard core dialogue. So it took the washing of the dishes for it to sink in that he had, on his own, rented a Jane Austen flick.

"So why did you rent this?"

"I just did."

I suppose this is true love. He lured me into the TV room with a film he knew I couldn't resist. And God bless his curmudgeonly soul... he watched the whole thing. Well except for his cigar break when he missed the turning point in the film where Emma Thompson weeps and consents to marry Hugh Grant. It was actually the sort of movie viewing I enjoy best. There was much laughing (on his part) and talking about the really ridiculous plot turns. He was laughing so hard that he missed important dialogue so I would have to explain what was going on.

"Why is she so stupid and why does she cry all the time?"

"KATE WINSLET is SENSIBILITY and EMMA THOMPSON is SENSE."

"Ahhhhh..."

A lot of conversation was okay during this film as it wasn't all that good. Hugh Grant was terribly miscast as a shy parish minister caught up in a secret engagement even though he was falling in love with Emma Thompson. As Dorothy Parker once said "He ran the gamut of emotions from A to B." An awful lot of film footage of men riding away quickly on their steeds was used. This was to indicate the speed with which they would take care of the problems which stood in between them and their true loves. Pretty bad.

Well, at least I give two thumbs up to Le Boyfriend for trying.