GARDEN: FIRST STAGE

It has been a rough few months 'recovering' from hand surgery on January 31st.  The use of my right hand is still far from normal, and I am battling pains and function issues that I never had before the surgery.  However, I have decided to simply plow forward and go ahead with all the things I love to do, and at this time of year that means gardening.

Below you see a view of my 'kitchen garden' which was established two years ago.  Last fall I covered the entire space with newspaper and laid straw over that.  I had intended to remove it and plant, but find that I am simply digging through it or moving it aside to plant, and leaving the rest as mulch.  (Plus, my dog Sapala thinks it is her new bed.)

Freddie was finally able to get into the garden to till it last Thursday late afternoon.  I immediately set about gardening.

I went out to the garden with my garden rake and started raking the loose soil into small raised beds.  This is labor intensive, and with a right hand functioning not so well, proved to be difficult.  Still, after a couple of hours work that night, I went into the house truly elated!  I was happy both inside and out, I was literally high.

There is something about the smell of newly worked soil, the feel of it, and the working it that is of the soul.  I felt the most like me that night then I have since surgery.  It made me most anxious to get back out there the next morning.

I spent two days raking loose soil into beds, some of which I planted at the time, and others I just made ready.

...here are some of the raised rows...

...some of the raised rows and raised beds, broccoli planted in two, along with some red peppers...

...garlic which was planted last November, sweet potatoes to the left, and cucumbers alongside the upright fence, under the milk jugs are tomato plants...

...another view...

I have been plagued with tomato blight for the last few years, so last fall I covered a brand new plot with cardboard and then straw, hoping never before planted ground would avoid blight.  We'll see.

...tomato plants under jugs.  This plot is directly in front of my compost pile, so I thought the tomatoes would benefit from any soil/nutrient seepage...

This morning I went out to my 'corn plot' (I do not raise the rows for the corn) and planted five rows, with more to be planted in a couple of weeks.  Last year I think the crows plucked most of my seeds, so my good old stand-by female scarecrow was staked in the middle of the corn patch.  We'll see if that helps.

I spend most of the day working the garden and no matter how hard I work, how much sweat trickles down my face and body, no matter the aches I have, I can honestly say I never feel better then when I come in from working the garden.

It is a magical pathway to all that is, and if one thinks about the soil, the seeds, the rain, the sun, and one's own part in it all,  there is a connection so deep and vital that one is profoundly renewed as well as blessed by the sacredness of it all.

NEW LEVELS OF IMAGINATION AND ASPARAGUS AT ITS BEST

I have always credited Iris and Elsa with the greatest imaginations ever, which they use 90% of the time.  Well, they astounded me with their play this past Friday!!  While in the kitchen, I heard them talking about the 'Moleys' (no spelling given to me), and how these babies needed tending.  They set about getting all that one needs to take care of babies; diapers, pillows, blankets, cozy corners, etc.  When I next looked in on them and asked what the 'Moleys' were, they said they were the babies, which happened to be Iris' feet!?!  Yes, these 'babies' cried, and got cuddled, and diapered, tended to, fed, among all the other chores one needs to do for babies, by Elsa, for a good hour or more.  (This is a game they have played often, I understand.)  I stifled giggles for a long time.

The previous evening, just about dusk, I looked out the window to see dark approaching, except for across the road where the sun was shinning its last rays of the day on the hillside....

and this is pretty much what it looked like.  Beyond words!

Finally we are getting asparagus, enough right now for a meal at least every other day.  (During asparagus season, we eat it as often as possible, soon there will be enough for a daily dish as well as plenty to give away.)

I had it in my mind that I wanted to fix it with pasta, not as a cold salad, but as a main hot dish.

Cleaned and cut, ready to saute...

 

I started with olive oil and butter melted in a large stainless skillet, chopped onions, and plenty of garlic minced, sauteed just until golden and soft...

I then added the asparagus, lots of it, and cooked until crisp-tender...

I added a cup of chicken broth (you can add white wine instead) and cooked until reduced about one quarter, then added the juice from one lemon, and salt and pepper to taste.

Meanwhile I cooked linguine until ala dente (hard to the tooth),

reserved one cup pasta water, and drained in a colander.

Placed the pasta onto two serving plates, added some of the pasta water to the asparagus in the pan, and covered the plated linguine with the hot asparagus.

Grated fresh Romano cheese over each.  

By far one of the best asparagus meals we have ever had!!!   

Keep that asparagus coming.

MAMA'S DOLLS

In the early morning with my mug of freshly ground coffee, I have a cozy spot in the corner of the couch in our living room, in which I sit.  Our home is filled with windows, and this is the view I get to see, in all its variations throughout the day and the seasons, from that cozy spot.

There is a grand old Box Elder tree right outside the window, and its beauty and grandeur, despite my husband's disdain for Box Elders, offers me hours of inner gratitude and peace.  I found it, with this lovely light, particularly beautiful this morning.

My grandgirls spent their Nonnie Day with me this week, and while they were playing (and I not exactly up to par, yet) I decided to go to the closet and retrieve an old, battered, green plastic suitcase that Jonel kept some of her 'dolls' when she was young.  Barbie dolls were pretty much the rage back then, and not finding them really conducive to imaginative play I never really got her any.  I did find a Hippie-kind of couple, he in a beard and she in longish, flowered dresses, which I did get for her.  Otherwise, it was a collection of dolls from around the world, and whatever she might beg from me at rummage sales.

The old suitcase, some of the dolls, and some of the clothes.

I thought the girls would be intrigued with them, especially since they had been their mother's, but I did not expect the focus and duration of that interest....

...washing them carefully....

...setting up a 'home' for them....

...combing and brushing their hair...

They sustained this play pretty much for four or five hours, with brief breaks to go outdoors.  

These girls are just filled with the wonder of play, and their imaginations are as wide as any child's could be.  The world they created on this day was vast and beautiful, and I was delighted.