every chick deservers a mother
It’s just a flowering plum tree, only it’s not just that. For ten years we’ve watched a flowering plum tree with dark burgundy leaves grow in our backyard. Each spring it delights with pink clouds of plum blossoms. Today, we noticed that for the first time, the tree is loaded with cherry-sized, sweet plums. We picked seven pounds of them this afternoon, and we barely made a dent on the fruit hanging in the tree.
Nothing is just a whatever. It’s always something much more.
Wake up early enough and you can catch the poppies still sleeping. It’s kind of like sneaking up on your lover when they are snoozing. But don’t get too excited. The poppies won’t jump when you say, “Boo!” They’ll just go right on snoozing.
As the sun rises, the poppies will slowly wake up. They are quite the flirts. They don’t bother putting on any panties to cover up their private parts. When they are fully awake, they want everyone to see what they’ve got. Do they remind you of anyone you know?
We all want to be comfortable. For Rusty, that means a whole body scratch against a concrete block.
For Svenda, comfort is digging a big hole in the garden and sitting in it. It’s cool in the hole. Chickens enjoy finding cool spots for their afternoon siestas. Nothing beats a deep hole in the shade.
What is about the outdoors that is so full of happiness? What is about a hen sitting on eggs that makes you smile?
What is it about fuzzy, blue flowers that make you giggle? What is it about a curious hen that makes you laugh?
Why do our eyes light up when we see bees gathering pollen on flowers? Why do we find it so soothing to lie down and look up at the flowers?
Why does the fresh scent of mint flowers calm our minds? Why does the sight of ripening plums and apples fill us with such hope? Why? Why? Why? The answer is outdoors where happiness is.
It’s mid July. Time for the garden to go crazy. What was the big deal with the LSD craze in the 1950s and 60s?
During a 15-year period beginning in 1950, research on LSD and other hallucinogens generated over 1000 scientific papers, several dozen books, and 6 international conferences, and LSD was prescribed as treatment to over 40,000 patients (History of lysergic acid diethylamide).
All you have to do to get your mind blown is lie down between rows of towering corn laced with pumpkin and bean vines. There’s enough color and fantastical shapes and crawling creatures to entertain you all day. Pea and bean blossoms tantalize with their exquisite whites and sensual folds. Arugula blossoms become swarms of butterflies in the breeze. Purple splashed magentaspreen seduces with its deep purples.
Nothing compares to the crazy poppies. Is it any wonder that the Summerians figured out more than 5,000 years ago that this was the joy plant?
New potatoes, potatoes eaten within minutes of plucking out of the ground, are so orgasmically good, that it makes you wonder if it should be legal to sell potatoes that are more than a few days old. Maybe the reason you never see potatoes picked today in grocery stores, is that if they ever sold such potatoes, no one would buy the old ones that they normally sell.
What is special about these very fresh potatoes, is that their skins are thinner and more delicate than a baby’s breath. Gently rub your thumb along them, and the translucent thin skin peels away. The tragedy of modern life is that very few have any idea how delicious food is. If you let potatoes develop to the point that they have a thick skin, and then store them for months before they get shipped to stores and eventually end up on someone’s dinner table, you’ve lost the magic that new potatoes can play on your tongue.
After a brief lull in our warm, summer weather, the sun is back out in full force, and I’m weeding the pea patch. Fortunately, I’m not alone. I’ve got help. BB is nearby keeping company. Sometimes just being there is all that matters.
Herbs by the handful, that’s the blessing of a garden. The rosemary bush at the start of the garden path provides more rosemary than I could ever use. Down the path are three more rosemary bushes. I never run out, even in winter. Oregano has taken over a spot in the garden. Thyme, sage, and marjoram flourish with abandon. There is so much mint, it could feed a flock of goats for days.
After living in cities for much of my life, this is one of the great treasures of being able to grow food: fresh herbs by the handful. Food that really tastes. Meals that satisfy.
It’s early July and the alder leaves are falling steadily. Usually, they don’t cover the ground like this until mid August. Every year is different. We never experience the same season twice in our entire lives. Each spring is subtly different than the one before it. Each summer is warmer, drier, wetter, cloudier, happier, sadder, windier, calmer, never the same twice.
Madge is settled in. She’s found a quiet, dark, out of the way spot to hatch eggs. Spending day and night in the dark, she’s missing out on harvesting garlic, and finding all the good things that come out of the garden every day to eat. Today’s lunch was extreme home cooking. You can’t get more extreme than growing all the things on the plate: new potatoes, spicy arugula, pea pods with shallots.
