May Day Morning

"I grow plants for many reasons: to please my eye or to please my soul, to challenge the elements or to challenge my patience, for novelty or for nostalgia, but mostly for the joy in seeing them grow."~David Hobson

The tiny grapes on this vine are just starting their journey.

  The magical process of becoming.

The hothouse rose, a gift from my sister, that I transplanted this morning has one flower left from many... but with nurturing and some good soil. it will grow its beautiful pink, peony-like flowers again and again this summer and remind me of my sister's visit all summer.
Gardens are so wabi sabi in their growth. I like formal gardens, but it is the comfortable, country gardens that are my favorites with their rambling nature and irreverent attitude.

 All the flowers seem to get along and each is tolerant of being with the others.

The sage sits next to the chrysanthemum.

And  the succulent shares a bed with the sweet alyssum and a wise Buddha.

There is mystery at work here.

A small viola that grow in the rocks where they were not planted. 

I'm not the only gardener in this garden.

Someone else is rearranging my initial choices to plant a flower in a certain place. The critters and birds that share this garden with me have decided that one of the yellow pansies would look better in the rocks and so it is.

I might call this "my" garden... but it really belongs to many others... The multitude of creatures that surround me while I weed and plant. The saying " It takes a village..." is true.
It takes the pollinating bees, the worms and  the spiders to make this garden healthy. It would be presumptuous of me to take the credit and say that I do all of the work in this place. There are birds that would disagree. There are many helpers here.
I weed, hoe, plant and compost. I plan and create structures... add some garden art.

 The Rockrose that grows all over the hillside with astounding beauty this time of the year...does not bloom because of me. I planted it, but there are other forces at play. I water... but it takes the sun to make it bloom.

 The Pittosporum, near the porch is blooming too. I always confuse this shrub with the Mexican Orange, the Choisya.  I though my mother called this plant a mock orange. I'm still not sure which is which. I only know that it is variegated and  fills the air with a heady aroma.
This garden, that overwhelms the senses in Spring, is not completely of my own doing. I'm more like one component of this orchestra. Without all the various instrumentalist, the sound and the soul of this garden couldn't be played. Every insect, bird and creature is there for a reason. This makes me feel like a grateful part of something amazing and wonderful.

"Everything that slows us down and forces patience, everything that sets us back into the slow circles of nature, is a help. Gardening is an instrument of grace." ~May Sarton

My mother understood this... and her mother before her. 

 As one of my garden signs says.....

"In search of my mother's garden, I found my own. "~ Alice Walker

Lettuce all be happy... even the chickens.

Got the pumpkins planted this morning.

With help from the Prospector, I got the beds ready and sunk those little seeds into the new mixture of soil.

Now, all I have to do is pitch a tent and sleep down there for a month or two so I can ward off the birds and critters that want to steal the seeds and eat the delicate plants as they come through the soil.
Note the absents of a Fig tree at the other end of the planter. We had to pull it out last fall because after the goats trimmed it through the fence, the foxes (here's the story) broke all the branches while eating the figs. I loved that tree and it's gone.
 I think I need a secret garden with a fifteen foot stone wall around my vegetable garden... and a wire mesh cover over the top. It's a constant battle to protect the garden from those critters that think we planted all of this for them. Maybe I need to build a dog house down there and bring home a pitbull mix from the animal shelter to guard my garden. Do pitbulls like vegetables? I don't know. I'm such a softy though, that I would end up sleeping down there anyway, to keep the pup company.
Our other raised bed is doing well. The tomatoes are planted...

 and all the lettuce is coming up.

Even the Irises that I planted, late, are loving the rich soil and growing faster that weeds down there.

One of them is going to bloom. I didn't think, when I planted them, that they would  bloom this year. The smaller plants in between  are romaine lettuce that blew in from the upper bed. I didn't plant them with the Iris. Either the birds rearranged the seeds or the strong winds of last month blew dirt and seeds over into the lower garden. It's all a mystery.
I picked some lettuce and took it back up to the house. I've been thinning it and giving the pickings to the chickens, but now the leaves are bigger and so it is as with all things in life, the higher order of species gets the good stuff. With what the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche called the Will to Power, I have asserted my."dominant hierarchy" and the lettuce is mine.
I cleaned it.

 Drained it.

 I ate some.

Then I took all the roots and leftovers out to the chickens. They seems OK with what they got. Chickens are hard to read... but I'm trying to understand the subtle differences in their attitudes.
I let them out to free range for the day. They seemed really happy (I guess) about having a day of freedom from the coop. Squeaky was the first through the door.
I went inside to have a salad for lunch...
and enjoy the lettuce of our labor.

Sister Visit

Sis was here for a few days. On Sunday we were dying of unseasonal heat.
She arrived, bringing all kinds of goodies from Trader Joe's and looking for a little relaxation on the mountain top.
We ate dinner, talked, watched Masterpiece Theater... and she just relaxed on the couch, with a dog on each side of her.
In the morning she fixed me some of her unbelievable oatmeal for breakfast.
This sister of mine can really fixed a dish of oatmeal.

She makes the oats with milk. Then she adds cut up apples and dried cranberries while it's cooking.  She tops it with a small amount of brown sugar and pecans, that she buys at Trader Joe's. They are pecans that are baked with honey and sugar. I'm guessing that you could do this with regular pecans but these are already sweetened and packaged this way. Sis breaks them up on top of the oatmeal and OH!  Is it good. You only need a little milk because the fruit and nuts makes it all moist, sweet and delicious without adding a lot of milk or sugar. She even sprinkled some of the brown sugar on the plate, to make it look beautiful enough to take a picture of (which I did) and similar to what you pay big bucks for in the restaurants. It's called "plate-ing" on the Food Network. It was a truly beautiful serving of oatmeal.
So, we ate in the living room... with the dogs... and then we let them lick the dishes. A bad habit that has been reinforced in this household. They are truly spoiled dogs.

Carl always gets to lick first, and Cutter waits patiently, for his uncle to lick part of the dish. Then Cutter gets to lick the rest.

"Oh boy. It's my turn."

After breakfast they got to cuddle with  their auntie.  Cutter still gets a little overwhelmed with too much closeness, but Sis finally won him over.

And, a few days later, when it was time for her to leave, they were both unhappy about saying goodbye.

"Where are you going Auntie?"

Look at Carl's expression. It was a sad moment.

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While Sis was here we spent a morning down on the river. First we drove to the new river access under the highway 49 bridge.
The drive down to the water was springtime magic.

The whole area from the highway to the river was covered with a daisy like flower that had been planted along the road, with lots of California poppies in between all the beautiful yellow flowers. It was a most beautiful site. 

The river was flowing wide and deep... and clouds were moving in from the west.

It was a perfect spring day in the foothills.

After we tiptoed through the daisies, we drove back toward Jackson ,over the Mokelumne River bridge and north to see the hills of poppies that I posted on  Wordless Wednesday.

It was so beautiful. Nature never fails us here in the foothills.

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On Tuesday we went to Sutter Creek and had lunch.

We went to some of our favorite stores... mostly "just looking", because these are high end stores and things tend to be a bit pricey. But, there is always the possibility of a surprise "bargain". You just never know when something will be on sale that you can't resist.

We introduced the owner of Romancing the Range to the Magnolia Pearl website. She had never seen or heard of this amazing women and her endeavours. The clothes in this store are all "cowboy meets Pearl" kinds of clothing and she went crazy when she saw The website. Check it out. The music is worth the link. It's beautiful. She also has a blog..... My, oh my!  Read a few of the posts on her blog and you'll see why I call her amazing.

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Loved having Sis here. It had been a while since her last visit. It rained most of yesterday but we managed one more lunch downtown before she left for home. 

 Thanks for coming up. We all miss you . Carl and Cutter have been looking for you all day. 

I will see you soon.

Wordless Wednesday: Poppy Splendor

"Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety" ~ Shakespeare~

 Yesterday, I got up early, drank my coffee and downed some Cheerios. I chose a pair of rubber gloves and a long sleeved shirt, and walked down to the vegetable garden... ready for the job at hand.

There, as the morning light filtered through the oak trees and into the garden, was my nemesis... The Stinging Nettle of Shakespearean proportions.
I carefully started pulling the plant out by its roots.

Then I heard the muffled steps of the goats behind me. Brownie and Murph' had come to see what I was doing, which translates to "What do you have for us to eat?"

 "Hi Farmlady."

Hi, Murphy. How are you this morning?" I took a glove off, walked over to the fence and gave my wonderful goat a head rub.
In return, he gave me a goat kiss. That's my hat at the top of the picture.

There is nothing like a goat kiss in the morning.
Then I gave him a back rub. He loves to have his spine rubbed.

Brownie couldn't be bothered with all of this. He was chomping on all the wonderful grass and wildflowers in the pasture.
I threw a handful of nettle over the fence to them. They both ran toward it and then... turned their noses up at it.
They like the sweet grass with flowers. They love Lupine and the Dandelions. I guess even goats are particular if they have a choice.
I decided that I better stop playing around with the goats and get to the task at hand. It was going to be a hot day, again, and I was wasting the cool morning away with goat play.
 Within a half hour, I had cleared the whole bed. It didn't take long. The soil was soft and the nettle came out easily.

After pulling the long pieces out, I raked the surface and got all the left over roots and dead mullein out of the soil. We will add more soil to the bed before I plant the pumpkins. Then we will use Preen and mulch to keep the weeds down.
The Prospector came into the garden with the ladder and un-stapled some of the wire so that it would be easier to get into the pumpkins for watering and weeding etc. I left one section just in case I decide to plant some beans.
Of course, Murph' had to check this out too.

Can you believe that goat reached through the fence this far? It's the reason why we keep the beds away from the fence. This is why we double fence in some areas. He is amazing... and he never gets his ears stuck.
My magical goat is a force to be reckoned with.
 Brownie, on the other hand, gets stuck every time. It's the horn. The only long horn that he has now. If he tries to pull a maneuver like Murphy, we have to go out and help him get unstuck. We have even had to cut the fence to get him untangled... and he cries like a baby. Oh, Brownie boy, it's a good thing that you live with folks that love you and understand you. 
Some goats just need more attention than others. Brownie is one of the needy ones in this life... but, we love him. He is ours, horn or no horn, needy or not.
Before it got too hot I did some pruning and planted the new gold trough that we won at auction. I will take some pictures of the finished planter next time... and of the beautiful Tiger Swallowtail butterfly that came into the front garden this morning. That's the butterfly on my new header. What a beauty.

The Nettle is gone. It's everywhere else in the garden but it's gone in one raised bed... for now.
 This site on Stinging Nettle says that we must have "highly fertile" soil because the Nettle does so well. Wonderful!! ( Can you hear the sarcasm?)
Lets hope that the pumpkins flourish as well as the weeds have.
My sister is coming in a few hours. I'm looking forward to her visit. Maybe we'll make some bread pudding while she's here. It's kind of a tradition.

Oh, and Happy Earth Day!

A Morning in the Garden and Squeaky tales

The temperature went to 86 degrees today. It was almost too warm for a spring day, but it was lovely in the morning.
I decided to go down to the vegetable garden and thin the lettuce.

 I can't believe the nettles. It's everywhere. It has reseeded all over the vegetable garden. I couldn't thin some of the red lettuce because I didn't have my gloves with me. This is a re-occurring problem of my own doing. I hate to wear gloves. I like to feel the soil between my fingers.
 I tried to pick around the nettles. (You can see the new nettles growing in the red lettuce below.)

I immediately felt that awful stinging sensation as I pick out some of the lettuce. I couldn't do it without touching the nettles. I tried thinning another area and left with a handful of lettuce for the chickens.
Looking over at the other raised bed that was filled with nettles I said to myself, "I will be down here tomorrow morning with the Prospector's gauntlet gloves and a long sleeved shirt. You are toast. There will be pumpkin seeds planted in this spot, my stinging friends, and you will be compost."

The nettle just sat there waving at me in the morning breeze, looking beautiful and green.
Tomorrow it will all be gone and I will have retrieved my vegetable bed from its clutches. I hope.

I took the handful of lettuce up to the chicken coop and threw it into the enclosure. The hens were so excited. They love lettuce. Squeaky, our banty hen, ran around them grabbing a piece of lettuce and running to a corner, squeaking the whole time.
I went around to the big door and into the hen house and Squeaky greeted me through the chicken entrance.

She expected me to bring a special bunch of lettuce (just for her) like I do with the scratch. I didn't have anything "special" for her this time and she was obviously miffed.

 She kept squeaking at me and running around.
"Well, Farmlady, where is my "special" serving of...?
 She walked over to the feeder with the egg maker grain in it and acted like she couldn't reach  into the feeder... like it was just too difficult for her.

She normally has no problem.
"Come on Squeak'. Don't be such a drama queen." I said.
I went over and checked for eggs. There was one in the big box. A pretty, light brown one.

  The Roadies had been laying this morning, all ready. Good girls!
Speaking of Roadies, one of my old red hens came in and started for the feeder. Squeaky saw her coming.

The Roadie was just looking for more lettuce but Squeaky thought the big hen was on the attack.
That's how Squeaky is. She always thinks the sky is falling..

 Squeaky got that look on her face... that wide eyed, deer in the headlights look. She whirled around...

and hightailed it to safety, behind a storage container.
Oh Squeak' What am I going to do with you. Life is just not fair and fears can be disabling , real or not.
See you tonight... I will bring some "special" scratch... just for you.
I promise.

Found Gold

Our friend left yesterday morning. He was a long way from home and it was time to hit the road.

Both he and The Prospector drove to Manteca for a reunion luncheon that happens every month down there. My husband goes down frequently, but this was Al's first time, in many years, seeing a lot of the people that he graduated with.
They mingled with some old high school friends, had lunch and then they said goodbye to each other and went in two different directions. The Prospector headed back up here and Al got on the highway heading north, back to Washington... and home.
We will see him again in September at a big 50 year high school reunion. (Yes, we have known them a long time.) He and his wife Ginny will both be down here. We are looking forward to this trip and seeing them again.
 It was a good visit. Al is an easy person to have around. His quiet manner and willingness to go with the flow makes him really easy company. He even fixed us dinner Tuesday night. Yes, that's what I call good company.
 I emailed Ginny and sent some pictures. She promised me that they would be here. We are going to hold them to their word. After all, we will be the best looking, youngest couples at the reunion. Right guys?

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You will never guess what I found. I was watering the plants on the porch and ...

I guess we didn't get an accurate count on those Easter eggs when my grandsons were out there finding them  on Easter morning. I found a green egg in the ivy.( No ham... just one green egg.)
"Hey Beans! You missed one. Now Papa will have to eat the chocolate inside the egg."
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And then, as if someone was leaving me small surprised, I found another treat.
 Remember the candy that my friend from Michigan sent me for my birthday? Well... I found one little box hiding in the corner of a drawer. There it was wrapped in its foil, inside this pretty little box, looking like the fine Italian candy that it is. I set the box out on top of the buffet and relished the idea that no one was home and... it was all mine. Like finding gold in the bottom of my gold pan, I marveled at its beauty.

  I opened the container and slowly pulled the silver wrapper from the pretty box. Then I  removed the candy from its shinny wrapper. This La Florentine torrone is a wonderful candy with almonds and lemon, orange or vanilla nougat.
I had saved the big box that the little boxes were in and this is what is said on the back:
We blend together crunchy almonds, smooth golden honey, pure cane sugar, fluffy egg whites, as well as rich flavors pressed from the finest oranges, lemons and vanilla beans.
No artificial preservatives or coloring of any kind are added.
This one was orange. There it was. waiting for me to finish its bon bon, nougat goodness.
So, I did...

Going, going, gone... until only crumbs were left. I licked my fingers. The wrapper laid crumpled and empty on the buffet.
 Receiving this candy was an act of love from a friend and eating this last piece reminded me of distant memories in my childhood. As I bit into it, all the holidays with my Italian relatives came back. It was a remembered taste. A taste mixed with long ago.
One little candy with so much nostalgia packed into it. Such good memories in something small, found in the back of a drawer.
After Al left, I found the delicious chicken he fixed us for dinner. We ate it again for dinner last night thinking about the enjoyable visit.
A green plastic egg, found in the ivy, reminded me of a wonderful Easter with my family.
The little box of nougat candy in a drawer that brought back memories of a found friend and my childhood long ago.
Each discovered with joy, reminding me of a wonderful time, laughing grandchildren, good friends and family.
How sweet is fate? How delicious is the chance of finding gold in the bottom of my pan?

There's a Strange Truck in the Driveway

 

And a strange man in my house.

He's not really a strange man... he's an old friend who went to school with The Prospector and has come down from Washington State to visit. 

We are so glad he's here. 

Lot's of reminiscing going on.

Lot's of talk about " The good old days".

The only thing missing is... his wife, Ginny. 

With all the fishing going on, it would be nice if you were here to keep me company. I can just take so much talk about big fish and "Remember Manteca when it was mostly chicken ranches and no freeways. 

We could be shopping... and having lunch together, girl. 

They went fishing again this morning. I think I will go for a hike or FELT something.

 This is the man who stood up for us when we got married and we did the same for them... in Manteca... when it was all chicken farms...

 He and the Prospector have known each other for a long time.

It's a good visit.

Scrabble Babble

We had a huge thunder storm last night. Woke us all up. Wow! It was wild.
I want everyone to know that I gave at least a third of the Lemon Bars that I baked yesterday to a neighbor... so we didn't eat them all ourselves.
And, did you know that it's National Scrabble Day today. I discovered this when I visited Heidi Ann at Gold Country Girls a while ago.

Also...It's Friday the 13th. Yea!
I think I hear more thunder.
It's raining again... and I'm home alone.
I'm going to pass on posting much today and lay low.
I feel a bad cloud  moving overhead.

So, go play a game of Scrabble,
 and lay low...
Until tomorrow.