NIGHTMARES AND BLESSINGS

Here's a calm rendition of the repeated...repeated...repeated nightmare I am having night after night and day after day!

If I could shroud this in veils of black with wisps of bloody gauze it might approximate the monster that has eaten my time, my creativity, my entire days!!

It is a minor miracle that my right hand and arm can do anything other then sweep a paint brush and wipe of slops and drops of misdirected Aged Pearl paint.

Still, when I see that there are only about 6 more 'panels' and rafters to do, and see that the primer has really drawn together an otherwise disparate rather ugly ceiling, I am soothed...some.

I still see the completion distantly, but growing closer. I hope I have creative energy left to actually work in my workshop!



I am renewed, however by the pampas grass' colors and the 'flags' waving in the breeze, and by the nearby asparagus ferns that are caught between the vivid green of summer and the golden yellow of fall. They are stunning.

The gift of these colors and textures set me straight, and remind me how lucky I am and truly without problems. I can't help but think I indulge myself with the nightmare theme, when all around the world millions would give anything for my life.

Thanks to walking outdoors and seeing all there is to see and by 'shaking' me, without sternness, back into my proper self.

SHADES OF BEAUTY

I am not sure when my love affair with zinnias actually began. It was not even sparked by seeing a field of blooming flowers, rather it caught me quite by surprise. I recall several years ago, perhaps 14, deciding my large garden needed some flowers as well as vegetables. I quite unknowingly purchased a packet of zinnia flowers along with some others that never made the grade with me. I had no idea what they would actually look like in massive bloom, but I image I must have been attracted to the pictures in the catalog.

It was that late summer, when the first bloom came in full, that I was hooked, almost like love at first sight. It was astounding to me, the range of beauty that came from a single packet of seeds. There were hundreds of flowers and not one looked quite like another. The colors were vivid beyond any I'd ever seen, and the shapes and sizes of each flower so different from the one just next 'door'.

A field of zinnias in bloom in my garden.


When I go to the garden to cut a bouquet, I always end up with far more flowers then I intended to harvest. It happens every time: I cut a flower and the one a few inches away catches my eye and my breath and I can't resist cutting it as well...and on and on that way. My heart gets full to overflowing when I stand amid the zinnias, it is kind of like the full-throttle kick I get in autumn when the colors are peaking.

I began collecting the seeds that very year...initially a modest bagful. My love for these flowers has transcended all these years, and is so strong that I suggested to my daughter and husband when their second child was about to be born they name her Zinnia...Nia for short. As Iris was the name of their first child, they did not think another flower name quite appropriate...or maybe they just thought the whole idea rather foolish. (Anyway, Elsa fits this little girl perfectly, though Nia probably would have, too.)

So now the colors are gone, and the papery petals are falling. I stand amid the field of dried zinnias with no less love.

...and find them stunningly beautiful, as well.

...a single zinnia in full summer bloom...

...a fall 'bloom'

...again...

...and again...

...and again...

...and again...


As I stand amid this field of spent flowers, I am struck by the beauty. It is different and less in your face, but none the less stunning. As I am gathering the seeds from one 'flower' I am caught by the beauty of the one only inches away, and must collect that as well, and on and on until the gallon bags at this point, and I am not done, number 6 or 8.

...the seeds are eager to split from the 'pod' into my hand...

...it is so hard to leave a seed-head in the garden....

And here they will sit, in this basket (I know I'll have to find an additional container this year) on a shelf until spring's planting.

ZINNIAS

...hard frost has claimed
their vivid colors...
now pale and tan
petals dropping
I think this plastic bag I hold
unworthy of the seeds
I gather.

When summer was in its prime
I marveled at the bold,
electric colors
commanding my eyes...
color bursting like radiance,
no size or shape
the same.

Each year I come
stand amid their dry remains
to gather up the seeds...
bag
after bag
after bag

the seed's potential
palpable,
nearly holy in my hand

and I think how they will lay
inert all winter long
in a lowly plastic bag
in a broken wicker basket
on a basement shelf.

I know their austere
presence
and how they will stun me
again and yet again
come summer.

GOOD EATING AGAIN

I harvested my sweet potatoes a couple of days ago, and it was a bumper crop. I have been growing sweet potatoes for about 5 years now, and this is the best crop ever, both in the potato yield itself, and most definitely in the size of the potatoes.

I have a few, very few, small sweet potatoes, many good sized-large potatoes, and an abundance of gigantic sweet potatoes, the likes of which I've never seen before. I bet I have one or two that weigh nearly 3 #'s each. Their size has not detracted from their taste either, they are perhaps the sweetest, tastiest sweet potatoes I've ever eaten.

It is difficult to really tell how very large some of these are, but the ones that look smaller, aren't really small at all.

The potato in the front is actually quite large...the one behind, huge.



Growing up in a Sicilian household, food was often the center of our lives. However, my mother or father, both of whom were good cooks, never made risotto. It was only as an adult, and perhaps only within the last 10 years or so that I have made risotto, and I must say it is one of my favorite foods.



Creamy Italian rice sauteed in olive oil (with leeks and garlic) a broth gradually added 1/2 cup by 1/2 cup over a period of 30 minutes (while continually stirring) is a treat in itself. Depending on the season, and what is ripe, I add peas, spinach, asparagus, butternut squash, or in this case...sweet potatoes.

Mid-way in the stirring and broth adding. I generally use vegetable broth, and sometimes a high quality white wine...nothing less then what I would drink. Then a handful (1/4-1/2 C) parmigiana cheese.

Baked, cubed sweet potatoes added to the rice. Serve with a glass of good wine, a fresh green salad, and a loaf of hot crusty bread straight out of the oven.

I wish everyone could eat like this.

SUNDAY'S WALK

Yesterday we decided to walk our property with the dog. We walked past my cabin, which as you can see, at least on the outside, is complete. I love the way it looks, and am ever so anxious to settle inside. My work is now cut out for me, as I have to vacuum all surfaces prior to painting...with still some staples to pull out prior to that. I need to select and install a heating system, and then after all that is done, I can begin to 'move in'.

Between yard clean-up, garden clean-up (this is an enormous project in itself), and several scheduled meetings, I don't anticipate being in the basement before December, though I'd surely welcome being in sooner then that.

Just a few pictures from the walk on our property.

The sweetest little flowers...though they appear invasive as they are EVERYWHERE.

The color of the sumac makes our walk kind of magical.

A red oak.

...and 'weed' we did not know the identify of.

Altogether a lovely afternoon.