Good morning, Doctor

No, not Dr. Ross, although I greeted him first. In this post I am referring to Dr. Seuss, because that is what the newest flowers in my garden call to my mind with their crazy shapes and wild colors.

Spider Flower, Cleome

I don’t remember cleome in my grandmother’s garden, but I love this old-fashioned plant. The toughest thing about caring for it is choosing which seedlings to discard in order to let the remaining plants flourish.

Purpletop Vervain, Verbena

I’m sure I bought this plant once, probably because, although I haven’t watched The Vampire Diaries, I somehow remember their description of Vervain: One that makes vampire skin burn and strength wane; a secret weapon preventing them from compelling humans to do their will. Now, it has migrated throughout my backyard gardens, which is fine because it is a “see-through plant” and doesn’t block the light or my vision of its neighbors.

Milkweed

Since I bought this common milkweed from Monarch Watch, it has reliably hosted all stages of monarchs. Not this year, at least so far. No butterflies, no eggs, no caterpillars. I still have hope.

Go with the slow

On Tuesday I picked up a bushel of gorgeous bi-color corn raised by Dave Bench and available to me through my CSA, Shared Legacy. I shared 3 dozen ears with friends, which was a good thing because a bushel is a LOT of corn. We’ve had corn soup and corn salad (no particular recipe, but I dressed it with the salsa from Tuesday’s soup). I’ve put 8 bags of corn in the freezer. Makes me feel very wealthy.

Fresh, but not up to the standard of my childhood, when the practice was to pick the corn AFTER the water came to a boil…

John is away from home this week, attending a public health conference in Tacoma and visiting his brother on a small island in the San Juans. Aloisa’s food tastes are within a narrow and fairly boring range, and Johanna seems happy with a few old favorites. I don’t intend to do a whole lot of cooking, since I miss John’s enthusiasm. It’s amazing how much time opens up when I’m not cooking. I read the first (and only, so far) book in a series I hope to follow for a long time. Featuring a male clothes-obsessed detective is a nice twist.

In contrast to the quiet all around me, the tiny pond ecosystem is bustling and bursting with goldfish, mosquito-fish, and tadpoles, all nibbling on the duck weed. I love to sit and watch, especially since the water lily has bloomed.

busy, but tranquil…

“…to be slow means that you govern the rhythms of your life. You are in control of deciding how fast you have to go.” Carlo Petrini

June is busting out all over

It finally feels like summer and, post-vaccination, we’re appreciating the creatures close to home without worrying where they came from or where they are going. At Loi’s pod kindergarten, seven goslings provided lots of joy during the last days of the school year before becoming farm geese nearby.

Goose Babies at school

Closer to home, the ecosystem in our tiny backyard pond is changing day by day. I bought the fantails and a few mosquito fish, but the tadpoles appeared as if by magic after a few warm nights when we heard frog (or maybe toad) song through the open window. Yesterday a couple of toad visitors were a major attraction, and Solomon, a painted turtle that Loi discovered in the wild, will be introduced soon.

The pond is ever-changing

Not all is quite so idyllic, however; after sleeping most of the winter Claudia Cupcake has transformed into a highly efficient hunter and the mourning doves chose a particularly poor nesting place in the cherry tree. A small pile of feathers in the driveway was our only clue to the outcome.

Danger, danger!!

I’m grateful for the chance to experience these moments.

Ruling the WOrld

It’s a Sunday in June. Here are a few of the things that make the day wonderful:

Peonies are blooming. And the grape irises. Roses are budded. Water in the frog pond is clearing, thanks to barley pellets. At the feeders I see hummingbirds, orioles, woodpeckers, blue jays, sparrows, cardinals, catbirds and tufted titmouses (titmice?). And, less happily, greedy grackles (Loi says “crackles”)

Peonies can live 100 years.

Some, but not all, of the tomatoes I planted are flourishing. Some re-planting and re-placing will be necessary. As always, it’s good to know that we have our CSA for actual food, because I am no farmer.

I rarely harvest much, but I am unable to stop trying.

Olivia is with us this week. We’ll see Sam next weekend for the big 4-year birthday party. So lucky to have children who visit.

Finally managed to schedule a much-needed plumber visit for tomorrow, thanks to Johanna, who is sick and tired of the ribbon-powered alternate arrangement of the flushing mechanism.

It’s a small world, plagued by mosquitoes, poison ivy, weeds, and the occasional marauding deer. “Ruling it” translates to lots of work on hands and knees, pulling out the small plants that don’t belong in the brick paths or crowding the herbs and flowers. But it grounds me and gives me the energy to help make the larger world better. I am grateful for it.