Archive for May, 2007
Another Yummy Day Ahead
Is it Friday again already? Wow, that week fairly flew by in a fog. Or, I should say, I flew through the week in a fog. I tell you, a woman could get used to Fridays like this.
I’m taking today off again after I drop Lila at daycare, and yes, the teenager is going to school. Yes. Yes, you are my son. I have a 10:00 massage! Here in my own house! Then in the early afternoon I see the new doctor and get the ball rolling on figuring out my digestive problems. Or at least rule a few things out. I’m pretty sure I understand what’s going on with me, but do want to get that gluten allergy blood test and have her look at this lump in my collarbone.
After that a quick run to the grocery to buy food for the party, then spend the rest of the day cooking. Potato Salad, Grilled Veggies, Rice Noodles, maybe, and something with Strawberries.
I initially thought I should work some gardening in there, too, but I’m determined to stick to my plans for not overloading myself. Keep the stress levels down by making short daily lists. It’s helping, I think. So the most I’ll do is pick the first radishes for the giant green salad, and maybe walk around and take some more pictures post-rain.
That rain! It stayed cloudy the whole next day and showered off and on, so the ground really had a chance to soak it up. My big worry was that the sun would come out and evaporate most of it before the plants could get their fill. Now everything looks so lush and the green is turning darker all around as the leaves fill out to their true size. Looking into the woods from upstairs, it’s like looking into a faerie glen with this variegated green curtain all around a clearing of rich brown humus. I need to get my hands on some Fern, Hellebore, Solomon’s Seal, and Jack-in-the-Pulpit. The area where the shed is going is covered in Lilly of the Valley, so I need to spend some time in there digging.
But those are things for another day’s list.
Dibble Dibble Dop
I normally get up about an hour and a half ago to do some writing, stretching and get the lunches made. This morning after Chris came in to wake me, I must have drifted back off, or more accurately, slammed back down into the depths, because I didn’t even hear his car go down the driveway. It’s perfect back-to-sleep weather.
In the middle of the night I woke to thunder rolling over the neighborhood and the soft patter of rain on the porch roof outside my window. A while later I woke again, more thunder and what sounded like a scream, but might have been a sound from my dreams, or a cat. I don’t know. But the rain was luscious and I listened to it as my heart beat slowed from racing to neutral, and I slid back under the surface. I felt so grateful that the forecast of a 20% chance of precipitation (that usually means not a single drop for our area) turned into a long, slow night of steady, light rain. Exactly what the plants needed.
My mind started to worry over the logistics of setting up a drip irrigation system next door but I told it to pipe down and let me sleep. Then I thought of the rain barrels still standing out by the garden at the old house, and how the shed isn’t even ordered and the woods still have to be cleared, so the rain barrel system I have in mind won’t likely happen for this season. I reminded myself that these are the thoughts that are making me sick from stress. Then I envisioned the rain garden I want to make in the front yard where the land dips down towards the driveway, to catch the house runoff. In the end, my thoughts must not have had enough strength to take hold, and I soon fell back into a luscious, velvet underground.
This is the first rain we’ve had in nearly a month and it’s still pitter-patting on the roof. They’re calling for more showers in the afternoon, with much cooler temperatures. Let’s hope the whole summer doesn’t play out with month-long dry spells, or I’ll be standing out there all night after work, with the hose in hand, slapping at mosquitoes and trying my best to conjure up clouds with my funky version of a rain dance.
In other news, I ordered my iPod last night. It’ll be here next week, with this engraved on the back:
listen, dance
Thank you sweet family.
Technorati Tags: rain, draught, garden, sleep, irrigation
A Most Delicious Day
Friday, my day alone, was spectacular. I had such big plans but found that once I got outside and started working, my body was not as much up to the task as my mind, so I had to turn it down a notch or ten. I let myself move slowly, matching the light breeze, the dancing spots of sunlight filtering through the freshly popped leaves in the woods.
Five wheelbarrows full of manure hauled next door and spread in one newly tilled bed, took over an hour to accomplish. After I scuffled it to mix with the soil, I raked it into hills and planted Blue Potatoes, French Fingerling Potatoes, Cocozelle Zucchini, Green Tint Pattypan and Yellow Crookneck. Between the hills I put patches of Vermont Cranberry Beans and Marfax Dry Brown Beans.
In the bed with the volunteer onion row, I pulled out the Violets, loosened the soil deeply and planted Golden Beets, Chiogga Beets and Detroit Dark Red Beets. They don’t like fresh manure, the jolt of nitrogen can cause their roots to fork. The soil is deep and sandy, perfect for root vegetables, but I’ll have to stay on top of the weeding, those Violets make their insidious advance and crowd out all other living things.
I didn’t take a single photo that day, just wished to be in the moment and then gone from it and into the next. Now, of course, I sit here typing and think, darnit, I wish I had taken a picture of something pretty to show you, like the ten million red worms per shovel full of manure.
I have three other big beds next door that need manure, minerals and a good weeding, but I ran out of steam by 2:00. After I put my seed box away, I poured a mason jar of iced sun tea, propped a few pillows on the slant board on the porch swing, grabbed the book Second Nature and made myself comfy. I had exactly one hour until Tyler arrived back home from school. I don’t think I read more than a page before the gently rocking swing sent me into a deep afternoon nap with the sun on my feet and the birds singing all around.
This Day For Me Alone
It’s Friday and I have the day off. The weatherman promises 80* and clear for the day, with temps dropping back into the mid 60s over the weekend. I can’t help but think I played this smart. My boss is a great guy, lets us take our birthday off, but I was more interested in extending my weekend. In about an hour I’ll get Lila up, dressed and off to preschool, then will turn around and drive back home to spend the day in the garden.
What a lovely birthday yesterday, even with the non-stop state of emergency at work, I still felt this smile bubbling inside of me. Thanks everybody for such sweet well-wishes. Phone calls from family and friends poured in. I followed links from my stats this morning to lovely props across the internet. I have a gorgeous new painting to hang on the wall, a lovely present from dear Cathy and Allan.
We had plans to meet Cheril, Greg and the kids at Ray’s Place again in the evening, but I had a stack of boxes full of the most wonderful gifties waiting for me in the kitchen. I sat out on the deck and opened everything before we left so I could call my family back east and thank them, but then found myself overwhelmed and unable to call up adequate words of thanks for their unbounded generosity. I called, but I suspect I sounded sort of thank-you-tarded.
Apparently, there’s an iPod with my name on it waiting at the Apple Store in Legacy Village. Saturday? You are mine. Mom and Steve, Jen and Vin, you are way too generous. But I love it. I can’t wait to start setting up playlists. Thank you, a thousand times. Then Mom and Steve sent a big box full of other goodies that I’m looking forward to unpacking again after I return from drop-off. There’s a hand-blown glass orb to hang in my dining room window with colors that will complement the colors on the chairs once I get them refinished. So gorgeous.
My Aunt Ginny has spent the past year collecting little things and sent a Xerox paper box with 40 individually wrapped gifts, some of them handmade. It felt like Christmas digging into that box with Lila by my side helping me pull the ribbons off and carefully unrolling the paper (we tried to keep the dragonfly print bits intact, so pretty). In the box? Chick fabric, Godiva chocolates, soaps, paper goods, lotion, dish towels, pot holders, a matchstick herb garden (I’ll take pics of this one later), and dozens of other goodies.
Then at the end of the night Tyler gave me a soapstone oil burner with an elephant carved into it, with the disclaimer that “it was real cheap.” But hey! He listened to Chris (who listened to me) and put some effort into getting something of appreciation on his own instead of running to his room to make me a card at the end of the day because it hadn’t dawned on him that it was my birthday. He even wished me a happy day as soon as he woke up and gave me a whole lot of big, stinky boy hugs all night. Looks like we’re all growing up.
And my birthday isn’t over yet! On Saturday we’re picking up a gas grill—Chris’ gift to me. I know that’s traditionally a Father’s Day type present, but I’m the only one who cooks, and I figured hey! I’m turning 40! It’s okay to ask for a big-ticket item as a Mother’s Day/Birthday combo. I can’t wait to make grilled veggie quesadillas out on the deck on Sunday. I bought bunching onions, mushrooms and peppers to marinate, and two nearly-ripe avacados wait on the counter.
Holy Mackerel, people. I’m still overwhelmed and will enjoy my day in the sun matched by the warm glow of thanks and love from within.
"All through the long winter, I dream of my garden. On the first day of spring, I dig my fingers deep into the soft earth. I can feel its energy, and my spirits soar."
~Helen Hayes
