sunday grace

there is a week in summer when caring for the garden becomes less a joy and more a chore.  its tendency to delight me by the most mundane of moments--a tiny shoot of life, the seduction of a honey bee, the sun lighting up droplets of water clinging to its petals--is tempered by its insatiable need for maintenance.  maintenance that is tender one day and resentful the next.

the bright newness is replaced by the inevitability of change.  the carefree ease gives way to a mindful commitment of care.   the energy recalibrates to fuel less the outward show, more the network of roots forged over time that will see it safely through cycles of resignation and hope, spark and smolder, rupture and repair, death and rebirth.

summer garden

watering
planting
deadheading
deer-proofing (ha!)
weeding
bees
bunnies
foxes
chipmunks
woodpeckers
cardinals
drowning in gratitude
magic hour
gardener

return of the light

the dining room in winter light.  the art is jupiter and her moons, which i painted this january.

oh hello there.  i came over to get a recipe and realized that i have positively abandoned this little blog space.  it's been over six months since i've posted.  there is nothing earth-shattering or deep to write about, but i feel a wee update is in order:

• we are nearly one week past imbolc, the return of the light, that halfway point between winter and spring solstice.  i dreaded the coming of winter.  i believed it to be a primary source of my panic and anxiety last year.  with some minor hiccups, i've made it through this far without any issues other than some mild insomnia.  i'm still practicing most of of the nutrition and wellness routines i established last spring.  as we move toward march and the anniversary of my panic, i take one day and night at a time and remember the light will come.

• i am devouring garden catalogs and have placed a huge conifer order that will arrive from the pacific northwest in march.  this year we are focusing on carving out another large piece of lawn and converting it to garden.  we will also tackle the shady sloped side yard that has so much potential but has been very neglected for a decade.  gardening saves me.  and while i want to be present in february, i can't help but daydream of june:

magic garden, june 2018

• this weekend is cold (but partly sunny, so i'll celebrate it).  we will spend some time tending to the inside of our home with regular housekeeping and finishing some bigger, not-so-exciting  projects like replacing the baseboards.  this house has loved me through thick and thin and i plan to return that love through tiny gestures of care.

i hope you are well and safe and loved and can feel the light on your face, wherever you are.

tiny figs and blue moon promises

in late spring the nice man at the garden store gave me a sad little fig tree for free.  he made me promise to take care of it and do my best to save it.  i took it home and put it in a big pot with great soil at the side of the house that gets good southern sun.  it's a good spot:  the place where all the herbs grow, there are butterflies and an old bike.

it didn't die as i think he expected.  but it didn't do much else.  it grew a few new leaves that remind me of a preschooler's clumsy drawing of a hand.  you know the one, where the hands are giant compared to the little stick body and look as it they are wearing mittens?  i really didn't know what to do to "save" it, other than give it some water and say hello every morning.  often i felt like i should be doing more, that a real gardener would have some fancy ph-soil additive or grafting thingamajig to give it its best shot in life. 

this morning i was doing a bit of extra tending to the pots at the side of the house.  i knelt down to pick some leaf litter from the soil of the fig tree's pot.  out of the corner of my eye, i saw several tiny green balls hidden underneath the mitten leaves.  figs!  two were turning purplish brown and let go of the tree when i touched them.

i ate them for lunch with goat cheese.  they were delicious.

tomorrow is a blue moon.  i read somewhere that it is a good time to make a promise to yourself.  i haven't yet decided what my promise will be but whatever it is i plan to just do my best and not worry about any fancy planning or techniques.  i will give my promise the best possible environment, lots of light and remember to check in with it every day.  i won't get discouraged when things are looking funky and progress seems doubtful.  i will trust that it will bear fruit. 

it's going to be delicious.

mr. jefferson's garden

this post could have easily been titled "things i did during the derecho power outage".  around day five, we figured we were in it for the long haul, so why not be inspired to do some real 19th century living?

so we took a drive (the air conditioned car had become our environment of choice) to monticello, thomas jefferson's house just outside of charlottesville. 

the house is impressive, but countrywomen, the garden!  i have serious garden envy. 

the vegetable garden is one thousand feet long.  it is perched on a terrace overlooking the blue ridge mountains.  it is stunning.  mr. jefferson played one of the most important roles in establishing how we garden today.

as a child, one of my favorite things to do was visit historical sites or read about girls and women who came before and lose myself in the worlds of the past.  

it still is.

i have no shame when it comes to sitting down with a table of six-year-olds to practice writing with a feather quill.

not my best work, but the words are magic.

while the inside house tour feels very hands-off, you are allowed to actually be in the garden, to touch, to smell, to take notes, to dream. talk about the pursuit of happiness.

did you know that mr. jefferson is responsible for introducing the tomato to the gardens of america?

you can purchase seeds saved from the garden in the center for historic plants.  i've been doing a lot of reading about seeds lately.  as a culture, we have taken the mighty little seed for granted and it (and our food supply) are in danger.  we can all preserve the integrity of all that nourishes us by saving, sharing and planting heirloom seeds and/or purchasing non-gmo food.

it is our responsibility to freedom and our future.

circles

believe me when i tell you i am obsessed with silver balls.

for bella's 52 photos project:  circles.

p.s.  looks like i'm going to be shooting with the iphone for the next few weeks.  major computer crash and canon issues at the same time.

in the garden

i love the enthusiasm i feel in the garden in the first warm days of spring. this year i owe my garden extra time and attention. in return, it provides a beautiful world separate from the realities of everyday life.

as with most things i do, my garden is a work in progress. so that i don't lose interest or money, i like to build it one day and one week and one year at a time. a few years ago, i decided to switch over from mostly established large shrubs and tress to perennials and lots of pots overflowing with annuals, that takes some testing and maintenance and is not inexpensive. the big projects are done: we've built a retaining wall and fence to allow more room for the dogs to romp and frolic.

ginormous boston ferns will always hang from the arbor. i swear they have their own little air conditioners attached.

we spend a lot of time out here (even in winter). mornings are by far the best. the dappled sunlight provided by the wee forest of trees is incredible during the day, but at night manmade lighting is crucial. there are landscape lights, uplights, two chandeliers, giant jars with beeswax candles and fairy lights on the arbor. it's truly magical. (now that i know how to shoot at night, i'll capture a photo of it this year.)

hands-down, it's my favorite place to be. and since it's 7:24 on sunday morning, i must excuse myself. there is a newspaper to be read and coffee to be savored as the sun makes its entrance through the trees.

weeds

these gorgeous wild berries are growing rampant in my yard. I don't know where they came from. I didn't plant them and they weren't here last year. I like them.

I started thinking about weeds and how I really prefer the weeds of virginia over the weeds of california. california beaches may have the virgin state beat, but california weeds are brown, hard, dry and dangerous. with names like goats head, fox tails, tumbleweeds and crab grass, west coast weeds are ugly and mean. weeds currently growing wild in my virginia yard: rose of sharon, scotch moss, wild berries and honeysuckle. they are all green and interesting.

remind me that I felt this way in august when they are taking over the garden.

la vida local, part deux

not that I needed another project.

she is one of my new babies. one of five heirloom tomato plants purchased for 75¢ each at the farm market who will make their summer home with the herbs on my south patio and hopefully keep my little family in luscious tomatoey goodness all season long.

have you read animal, vegetable, miracle? it has been sitting on my bookshelf for several months and I just picked it up last weekend. wow. I have read a lot of books about food and nutrition, but none have scared and saddened me (in a good way...to propel me to action) as much as this one. I've been pretty loyal to local farm markets, but the vast majority of produce purchases over the span of my grocery shopping life have occurred at the supermarket. half-way through the book, I know I need to change that.

we are lucky to have a city farm market open six days a week all year round, so I will be visiting more than saturdays (and it's crazy I haven't done this before...it's a short walk from my office and yet I was so stuck in habit that I arrived at 7am on the weekend instead!). we also purchased a share in our local farm co-op, which delivers the freshest, just-picked produce and eggs and meat from the surrounding mennonite farms to a drop-off point just down the street from my house once per week. I love this. I just wish they actually came in a horse and buggy.

and then there is this desire to grow some food myself. I've never journeyed into growing more than flowers and herbs. this little book (and the website) have me excited to see what I can do at home. with my trusty gardening assistant right by my side.

I was born and raised in california's great central valley, which supplies a good portion of the world's food. during my life, I witnessed the transition from family farm to this concept of agribusiness. I always thought it was a good thing...bigger farms=more food, right? I really had no idea how capitalism was screwing the food chain and our potential survival. read the book. you won't regret it.

are you supporting your local farms or do you grow it yourself?

project mood lifter

sometimes a perfectly gorgeous april sunday does it by itself. other times, I need a plan. the project list on this particular weekend involved garden stores, books, writing assignments, catching up on long-missed blogs. all of these things (in addition to those posted yesterday) contributed to a lighter spirit and the ability to smile true. but it was the planting that pulled most of the weight.

I started small with the herbs and annuals destined for the empty rainbow of glazed ceramic pots that have been waiting patiently all winter, safely tucked away in the shed. I like to plant a collection of mints and allysum to scatter throughout the main lounging area outside. on humid summer nights, the soft scents of peppermint and honey provide even more ambiance to lazy stargazing sprinkled with storytelling. the anticipation of such nights had me imagining fireflies in broad daylight.

there is just something about the feel of rich soil in my hands. while the dirt made me feel childlike and playful, the act of planting young sprouts with the intent to nurture and grow was decidedly maternal. I needed both these things. I am lifted. I am grateful for garden.

I'd also like to thank my lovely planting assistant, luca. the project would have been successful, but humorless, without him.

{I finished life of pi yesterday. if you've read it, please chime in on which version of the story you believe. this is why I need a book club.}

retreat + regroup

home

garden.