A Seedy Avocation

We know we really live here because we're sowing seeds! Last year was too hectic and disorganized to really sow as many vegetables and flowers as we usually do; I think we started morning glories and planted most things from pre-grown nursery stock.
This year finds us (so far) sowing annuals (thunbergia, tithonia, heliotrope, castor beans) perennials (delpinium, holly hocks) and vegetables (three kinds of okra (!!) award winning English onions, lavender, brussels sprouts, and savory). This should keep us busy for a while! All of these infant plantlings are residing on a table in my studio. Add another layer of dirt to our already soiled floor...
Bob also started Indian yellow snow peas that are up and quite happy outside. Our blueberry plants are beginning to flower and I hope they aren't bothered by the chilly (although truly more seasonal) weather.

There is certainly something so encouraging about sowing seeds. Life may suck at times, but small seeds get tucked into warm, moist earth and they grow. It's satisfying and comforting. One night last week, I just couldn't fall asleep. I went downstairs and filled cups and trays with potting mix and started some more seeds. I spent a good hour or so, considering what a funny thing it was to be doing at 1 in the morning. But then it was gratifying to see they germinated just fine.

A Fondness for Festivities

Never one to miss out on miscellaneous festivals (or to invent new ones when needed) I decided last Tuesday was as good a day as any for our First Annual Tulip Festival. We were never able to celebrate the blooming of tulips when we lived in our previous house as our carefully planted tulips were annually consumed by maurauding deer. Here, we have been lucky so far. I know that the day is not far away that the local deer will discover cultivated culitvars and practice a sort of scorched earth policy but until such time, let us now praise famous bulbs!
The red flowers (above) were dominate. I planted several clusters of the red and a smaller offering of white. We also had white tulips for indoor enjoymeny provided by the cut flower garden. The tulips all bloomed rather quickly once they sent up buds as the weather has been remarkably warm. But at least we got to admire them!
We had food color themed to reflect our flowers: salmon and strawberries and red wine and tomato salad. It was simple and delicious and after the week (or two) that we've had working and running around like maniacs, it was good to slow down and watch the flowers grow. Maybe there should be a festival a week; don't they celebrate various saint's days (or other excuses for a good time) in Europe? Sounds like a healthy idea to me!

The Sweet Smell of (Chemical) Spring

That's Jules and I off on our morning jaunt. Jules has collected quite an extensive array of sticks and logs. Walking back up the road is an adventure as some of these sticks are wide enough to obstruct traffic. People driving by seem entertained by Jules' heroic efforts in bringing home next year's fire wood. What's even funnier is Jules requesting that I assist him on the very large cumbersome branches. He'll pick up one end and look imploringly over at me and I'll pick up the other end and between the two of us, we move some sizeable wood. I wonder just why hauling timber is supposed to be fun. I only hope that our vehicular observers don't think I'm making him gather logs.
All of this was a long way to relating that we have quite an impressive assortment of wild flowers in bloom here. Trillium, anemones, trout lilies, marsh marigolds, and a few as yet unidentified individuals... sasparilla? (small white flowers that resemble fire works), tiny pink cups that look a bit like anemones but more delicate? So many wonderful flowers, especially in the wild areas on the far side of the brook. You couldn't improve on them or the way they sow themselves in free wheeling abandon. I'll try and photgraph some of these wildlings for a late blog.
But instead of the earthy aroma of newly turned dirt of spring, or the sweet smell of wild flowers, our neighborhood is frequently scented by the odd chemical cocktail of fabric softener. this depresses us. Better to smell nothing than chemistry!

Grape Expectations

We've been busy in the Agricultural Triangle. Grapes became this weeks obsession and we bought two Concord grapes (dark purple), a Niagara (white) and a Reliance (red and not pictured above as it was just purchased today). Bob dug holes large enough to plant a grand piano or two assuring that the roots will have plenty of space to expand. Bob has planned poles and wires for trellising and possibly an arbor someday. We've both always loved Concord grapes but the other two seemed like a natural: a color for every taste and mood! It may take a few years, but we're already anticipating all the fun things we can do with them.
Here's a shot of Bob climbing one of our three compost piles. (This is what we do for fun, mind you).

That other pile in the right front is raw manure and available to any and all who want great fertility this year. You, too, can have a compost pile to climb on...
And while on the subject of the vegetable garden, Bob re-thought some old metal work he had and fashioned four gates for the garden. Each garden face now has a gate. That makes it really convienient to water and off-load manure and tend to the grapes! Here's a shot of one of the gates:

You will, of course, notice that there is no fence on this side. But at least we have the gate! We did buy the fencing to finish the perimeter and that next weeks project. (Last year we made do with bird netting. We didn't want to erect permanent fencing as Bob was taking down a few trees.)

Where Have I Been?

So much for the fabled "good intentions"! I planned on blogging on the first anniversary of my blog, I planned on blogging on April Fools Day (a perfect date!) and I planned on blogging waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay more consistently/persistently but I guess I've been "busy". (Note all those pesky parentheses).
Anyway, one of those things that commands my time on a regular basis is my ritual morning walk with my personal trainer, Jules. Above is one of the many spectacular sights we encounter along the dirt road that is now "ours". (More parentheses...) Jules and I are definitely proprietory about our road. I grumble when the (very occasional) car uses it for short cut purposes and I smirk when I run into runners. We are especially insenced when stupid people dump grabage and building materials like in the following picture. I mean, what gives? Dump your trash on a road or a shopping center, not out on my walk!

Really! Jules and I often bring a small plastic bag a pick up bottles and sandwich wrappers but the above is serious amounts of construction refuse. And although it doesn't appear obvious from my picture, that's down a really steep slope so who ever has to clean it up has to rappel down a percipitous hillside. Aren't human beings great???
Let's end on a beautiful springtime vision. Only a bit further down the road from the top picture is this scene. (There are also ducks on this pond, but they fly noisily away whenever Jules and I draw near).

The Grass IS Greener

Bob and I were enjoying our morning cup of coffee in bed this drizzly a.m. when there came a loud rapping at our back door; an unusual occurence that sent Jules barking down the stairs and me frantically pulling on my pants, one leg at a time. At the door was our neighbor Meagan (resplendent in bright pink fuzzy pjs and an interesting robe). She bore the intelligence that Crispin had escaped his pasture and was to be seen galloping and gamboling acoss their lawn. Happy dancing horse! Fortunately, he proved easy to capture and re-corral once a bucket resembling breakfast was produced, although he flirted momentarily with a bit of high-heeled rearing and snorting looking for all the world like a small Lippizaner.
I'm glad that Crisco the Stallion had a mini-adventure. He looked very pleased with himself and no harm was done to our neighbor's lawn. I guess everyone is delighting in spring!
And on a less dramatic note, the daffodils that provided only a cluster of leaves last spring (inherited, not planted) decided to flower, so I no longer need lament my dearth of daffodils. I was so busy last fall that I planted only some tulips; I neglected daffodils and crocuses (and all the other bulbs like muscari, frittilaria, chinodoxia etc. etc.) You can't do everything!

Life Lessons

I was attempting to vacuum the other morning and every where I turned, there were more of Jules' toys, possessions and weird talismans. (The weird things barely pass as toys but Jules seems to like them every bit as much as the presentable "store bought" ones. Like chunks of sticks and old empty plastic seltzer bottles and stuffed animals with the stuffing long ago torn out). I think he keeps count as I find him surrounded by them, seeming to take inventory. He periodically resurrects a particulary odd old bit and parades it around like its brand new all over again.

Anyway, he seemed especially pleased with himself while sunning, surrounded like a true Material Boy by all his worldly goods. I thought this was a good time to give him a lecture in The Way Things Used to Be and Counting Ones Blessings.

"I hope you realize", I said, "A hundred years ago, you wouldn't be laying here in the warm house, noodling about with your toys. No, you'd be chained to the house without shelter acting as a guard dog. or you'd be off on some remote hillside, forced to tend the sheep in sub-zero temperatures fighting off wolves!"

Jules looked unimpressed and relied, "Oh yeah? Touch just one of my things and I'll call the Humane Society! I've got there number on speed dial on my cell phone!"

Later when outside, throwing the thousandth tennis ball for Jules to fetch as he is tireless in his pursuit of anything thrown, I spied the horse.

Crispin is another ungrateful wretch. I can just see the expression on Crispin's face when he watches me play with Jules. "Oooh. There's that awful woman and her stupid dog. They're beneath my notice. And why that horrid spoiled dog thinks I'd be interested in some nasty old ball is beyond me."

"You! Crispin!" I called. "Do you realize that just last century, you'd be pulling a plow and glad to get thrown a forkful of musty hay after a grueling day in the fields? A day drawing a wagon could still be arranged!" 

I don't think either dog or pony were seriously worried about "The Bad Olde Days " returning.

Here's evidence (in the form of a picture taken of Crispin back at the horse farm before he came to live here) that Crispin has always been grumpy and seems to "have his nose out of joint".

(I am supposing that there are now laws on the books prohibiting the posting of unflattering portrayals or unattractive pictures of one's pets on the Internet... just don't tell Jules or Crispin about this entry. And I also trust that my sagacious friends know that I am only kidding about my furry friends...)