NOAH, DO WE NEED YOU????

Even the positive sides of rain are being diminishes exponentially...plants that normally would thrive in lushness with copious amounts of moisture, are now slipping quickly into paleness and death. I am plucking petunia after petunia from each of my outdoor potted plants, as they succumb to excess rain, despite drain holes in the bottom of each pot.


Plants in the garden, like my cucumbers, that generally soak up moisture and lengthen almost before my eyes, are rotting in a sickly yellowness.


Seeds that have not germinated are relocated by washouts far from their original site.



Onion bulbs lay exposed far too early, the dirt having found a home somewhere else.



And the approach to the cabin basement is nearly unapproachable...water washed deep rivulets that are almost impossible to navigate.


There simply is no way to get to my workshop without an extra pound of mud on my boots.




I sink deeply into the mud as I walk to my basement door.


I, surely only one among many, am sodden and far beyond ready for dry days that come in...a...row. I am tired of snatching sunshine in tiny bits, rushing out to pluck the ever growing weeds between deluges. The promise of a week of clear and sunny days I hold only as a tentative truth.



Awakening to the gray and dreary days, despite the embedded beauty in them, has grown tiresome...


just before the rain falls...this is what it feels like:

HEAVY IS THE DAY

The days are many now
that have borne this gloom
grayness suffuses the morning pallette
mono-chromatically
the breeze nudges
tar-heavy
and everything
is swollen with the
wait.


JAS

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY

My father has been gone for quite some time now, over thirty years. It hardly seems possible that I was younger then my daughter is now when my father died. I recall feeling somewhat orphaned at the time, losing one of my parents.

My father was a big man, at least it seemed that way to me. I believe, however, he was only 5'9" tall. He was robust...just short of really fat, rotund might be a better word. He had a big, booming, baritone voice... great for reprimanding the kids or belting out a song.

I can still see him at all of the Italian weddings we attended, up on the stage with a borrowed trumpet, white hanky ready to wipe the sweat from his brow as he did a great imitation of Louis Armstrong. My father also played the alto saxophone. Although he never had a lesson in his life, and I do not believe he could read music, he could play one mean instrument. Jazz was his favorite, and we kids spent many an hour sitting on the green sectional furniture in the parlor, listening. To this day, listening to the alto sax, whether it is jazz, rhythm and blues, or rock and roll, I stand in awe of my father. This is why the music of the alto sax remains near the top of my favorites.

When I was very young, he was off in the Navy. Below is one of my very favorite pictures of my dad. I love it for its statement about the times, and because it seems so campy.

My father is on the extreme left. Yes, the handsome one with the cigarette dangling from his mouth. (It seems that in the old movies, the handsome man often had a cigarette dangling from his lips.)

A picture of both of my parents. I am not sure of the age. I recall the dog on the right, Peggy, but I don't really know who the other dog is.

This is how I remember my father. He had huge, deep brown, expressive eyes, and yes a look could put me in my place. Still, most of my memories are of my dad in a white flour sack apron. My father was just about the best cook I have ever known. I believe he could think of ingredients and 'taste' them in his head, and then know exactly what was right with what. I grew up with fresh vegetables always at the ready, and I recall that there were times we might have been a bit hard up for money, but NEVER hard up for food. My dad never scrimped on food. He was into 'slow' cooking before it was ever popular. He simmered and stirred all day long...and he was the ULTIMATE BBQer. He was magic in the kitchen in other ways as well. No matter how large a crowd might unexpectedly appear, no matter how scant the fixings in the pantry, the wizard that he was could conjure up a meal fit for a king.



He had an old cast iron pasta machine that came over from the old country. (It sits in my kitchen now although I generally use a newer stainless steel one.) What a treat for all of us when he set it out and made home made pasta, which he did quite often. I can still see the broom sticks suspended between chairs in the kitchen, fresh pasta hanging over them to dry.

Dad, you are so often with me, especially when I am in the kitchen. I made homemade pasta just the other day, and I swear you were right beside me. I am so grateful for the legacy of loving good food, loving the preparation of it, and loving the serving of it. A whole lot of me is you.

WHERE OH WHERE IS THE SUN?

Did you ever get a really great idea, one that excited you so much, it was difficult to wait for its manifestation?? And then...as it was developing and coming to completion you had inklings of regret??? Well, my inklings are inkling away at me and wake me in the night.

It looks good, right!

Honestly, I do love the way it looks, and once it is painted the same as the cabin itself, it will look really nice. BUT...and there is a big but...as of right now, the basement leaks when it rains and it seems to be raining all the time these days. (Are we in Oregon?) We knew there was going to be a problem to overcome when I wanted the basement to extend to the edge of the deck, problem being, how to seal the deck (create some kind of ceiling) so that it was solid and dry. After many considerations...one being to lay cement on the deck floor, which I vetoed, my builder laid roofing rubber on the deck over plywood. Sealed tightly he thought. Well, standing in the basement there are small leaks along the seam where the cabin meets the deck. To say I am sick is like saying a tornado is a wind. Rudy, my builder, says he will solve this problem, and I am sure that he will, but in the mean time, I who envision tragedy at every turn (I think it is my Sicilian heritage) can't help but see this cabin as the biggest, most expensive mistake I have ever made.

On top of it all, as the rain has not ceased for very long, there is nothing but MUD everywhere around my cabin...everywhere inside my cabin as well. I AM SO SICK OF MUD and I must say, that simply adds to my 'black state of mind'. My workshop is strewn with dried mud, mud prints, filthy rugs, and general chaos. Needless to say, it is clearly not a pleasure to work out here right now.
I know the sun will shine??

On another more joyful note. Iris stayed overnight with us on Saturday. She is fun to have around what with all the pretending we must play! At one point she was my mother Sarah, her doll was my sister Jackie, I was Joanne, and she was pregnant with my sister Barbara, who she said was to be born in 16 weeks. She put Jackie in the doll stroller, took me by the hand and said, "Come on Joanne, we are going to the park." And so we did, and had a good time, I must say.


On Sunday we packed a picnic and went to Wild Cat Mountain State Park. She played on the playground equipment, we ate our lunch and then this lovely creature came crawling by. I extended my finger hoping it would 'walk' up, but it rejected me and went straight to Grandpa Freddie. Iris studied this with great interest and curiosity.

The bright spot in my otherwise rain-filled week.

Another bright spot, though if the sun were shining it would be even brighter, is the golden straw that spans the spaces between garden plants. I always think of the Fairy Tale Rapunzel and how she spun the straw into gold, and I have no doubt that it really could happen. Not only do I love the straw for its smell and look, but it also allows me to work in the garden no matter how wet it is, these pathways are always assessable.

This is the garlic I planted last fall, and it truly looks beautiful. I wish now I had planted more, as I know this won't be enough to get me through the year.

So, here I sit in the cabin as rain continues to fall, no fall is hardly the correct word for this deluge. It is dark, dreary, and downright miserable, and I vow I will NOT check out the basement today!!!

A SEASONAL LOVE

Gary Fisher...how I love Gary Fisher! At least my Gary Fisher. ..and HERE IT IS!

It is that time of year again, getting on the bike and taking my daily ride. In the spring, summer and fall, I am sure that biking is my first love. However, come winter time and my cross country skis, I am sure skiing is my first outdoor love. But as it is spring, nearly summer, I must say there is really nothing quite like mounting the bike and taking off. I can feel exhausted and just plain lousy, but after just 10 minutes on the bike, I am rejuvenated.

Now there is really nothing glamorous about biking get-ups, but amid all the sweat and headwinds, who really cares. After 15 or 20 miles in the mid-day heat, I am literally soaked, just like an hour session of Holly Parr's Zumba class...and at the end of both, I can say I feel more healthy and invigorated than at any other time of day. Great thanks to Gary and Holly!

THE FLOOR IS LAID

Last week the cement truck arrived at 8:00 in the morning, as all was ready for the pouring.

Weather cooperated, and all went without a hitch.

Smoothing the floor. Rudy had extra cement and laid an entrance for me. He said, as we hadn't talked about it, that if I didn't want it he would have broken it up and taken it out. He has been so great to work with.

It had dried by early afternoon, and he was able to walk around on it with the mechanical 'smoother'. Knowing nothing about basement construction, I am amply impressed!
I am, however, getting very anxious for this project to come to completion. It is a total mess outside, and for some reason the inside of my studio is matching it...mess for mess. Although I am able to work out here while the work is going on, I must say it is a bit difficult. A couple of weeks???

On another (delicious) note...last night's supper consisted of an abundant amount of roasted asparagus (freshly picked, swathed in olive oil, garlic, a bit of oregano, freshly ground black pepper and a dash of sea salt); the last of the morels; a fresh tomato from a nearby Amish greenhouse topped with fresh basil, feta cheese and a drizzle of olive oil...and of course naan straight out of the oven. We decided that we eat pretty well here on Jug Creek.

A THOUSAND LITTLE SUNS

I received an email from a dear friend in Maui whose husband needs 1/2 grocery bag full of dried dandelion heads for a Bio dynamic preparation. So, given the foraging nature I have, and the excitement of the hunt...

*morals---oh, I'll look under just one more tree

*Goodwill shopping---there's bound to be a 'treasure' here if only I look a bit longer
*dandelions---oh, there's another good one over there

...I set out this morning to start on my half full grocery bag

Setting the tops out on this picnic table one by one was not unlike constructing some 'art project' and I found it intriguing.

Some of these flowers measured almost 2" in diameter, and were stunning on the stalk. I think laid out here, they are close to breathtaking. I only wish my photo-taking abilities were up to the task.

Of course, if it rains, I'll be moving them and laying them out somewhere one by one again, and maybe that won't be so 'creative' a project.



Coincidentally, just the other day I went outside and took pictures of dandelions because I thought them so beautiful...as beautiful as many another flower. Poor things, they are totally unaware that they are a 'weed'.

BASEMENTS...RHUBARB...LAMPSHADES

The cabin now sits on its cement block foundation...hooray! I don't feel off-kilter anymore. Things seem to be coming along quite well, despite this day/week of rain.

I am sure there are still a few weeks of work here, but it is getting closer...and I am glad. This is quite a mess to get through, though now that it sits on level 'ground' it is more pleasant to work in the workshop.

Cementing over the outside of the blocks prior to completion and back-filling.

~~~~


On another note...it is the season of rhubarb and for us, rhubarb cobbler! My own patch looks healthy and is growing, but perhaps due to its location, it is somewhat slow. I have harvested quite a bit, all small stems that are, however, sweet and tender. Luckily I have a neighbor whose rhubarb is prolific and she is quite generous.

Close to our favorite dessert, Rhubarb Cobbler is a delightful mix of sweet/tart and the crust is both crisp and soft.

Add a bit of Organic Valley fresh whipped cream and it just tastes like spring. (Recipe follows.)

Butter as large a pie plate as you wish and fill with cut up rhubarb. I generally use 3-4 cups of rhubarb.
I next treat this just like pie, but directly in the pie plate. Add 1 (or so) cup sugar. (I use half white and half dark brown sugar.) About 1/4 c. flour and stir all together with a large spoon, being sure to mix thoroughly.
Sprinkle a little nutmeg over the top.

Cobbler batter: Combine 1/2 c. sifted flour, 1/2 c. sugar, 1/2 tsp. baking powder, 1/4 tsp. salt, 2 tbls. soft butter, and 1 large egg. Beat with a fork until smooth.
Drop by spoonfuls over the fruit mixture. It spreads as it bakes.
Bake in hot oven (400 degrees) for about 40-50 minutes.

(I use this same recipe for any fruit in season, and also with my frozen fruit.)
ENJOY!

~~~~

My latest weaving project was in response to a challenge given by one of the members of our Fiber Arts group. I brought some extra fine wool yarn to our last meeting and gave some to everyone. Kathy said lets have a challenge to see what we can make with this...and I thought she said 'by the next meeting'. Anyway, I have saved a few lampshade frames over the years and have meant to get to them to weave a shade. Here was my opportunity.

I used the lampshade frame as my 'loom' and warped it with the yarn. I then finger-picked, as in tapestry weaving, the weft. I used various media for the weft, but incorporated plenty of the yarn of challenge.

In the early stages. Fine yarns, tie-dyed cotton strips, hand-dyed silk strips, and some ribbon.

It was time consuming, and at times laborious, but fun to do.

Before its final embellishment. I set it on a lamp and loved it. Still I thought it needed 'something' to make it pop.

And here it is. When the bulb shines behind it, it throws a lovely light.