Memorial Day

Nope. Not Luther. Luther had company. That's Lilli! Here they are together. You'll see the difference readily. Lilli's the blonde. . . .

Luther likes blondes.

Here's Lilli and wee Eron. I like to call him Enron. Too many business ethics case studies, I imagine.

He's a perpetual motion machine. Oh - and a barker! He doesn't much like Luther. Not yet, anyway. He's leery of him, so he barks. Luther gives him his space, so you won't see any pictures of the two of them together. By the end of the day, they were [mostly] peaceably co-existing. In separate spheres of influence. Enron's a cutie, isn't he? I'm thinking he'll eventually grow into his head [and feet] - right now it looks like a full-grown shepherd's head has been photoshopped onto a puppy body. Here's Lilli again. With her ball. And here again. . . . with her ball. And yet again! with the ball [far right]. . . . Enron [front & center] getting a lesson from daughter-in-law Susann.

And finally, with Luther: "If you don't put that ball down. . . . ." "Hah! Ya gotta catch me, first!"

And now, a bit of a repast. Slainte!

Luther spent the next day in bed. Exhausted.

Music. Walter Reed.

My latest, favorite song: Walter Reed by Michael Penn.

Yep, Sean's brother.

I'd never heard of him before, but heard this song on a rerun of House last night and tracked it down. Now I can't get it out of my head. Be advised.

[It's worth it.]

general trenching

Words of wisdom from Michele at Garden Rant:

1. Plant asparagus, even if you don't think you'll be here for the harvest, and

2. When planting asparagus, "I didn't follow the usual directions, which generally recommend some absurd trenching and digging program and planting the crowns in sculptural fashion on a mound well below the soil surface. It's one of my basic principles as a gardener: Never trust anybody who tells you to dig deeper than a shovel's depth. I suspect that deep-digging is like Scientology, a cult of self-betterment for the gullible. Here's another of my basic principles: The longer the list of instructions, the more worthless the advice."

Wish I'd read this a couple of weeks ago. . . .

(yes, we trenched. But hey! It wasn't me. That's got to count for something. Sorry Steve.)

green day at the greenwood

It's a green day at the greenwood. The leaves on the trees are bright, tender, green in the low light of an otherwise gray day. It fills the house with green. Dark; eerie; like fog. It's peaceful, quiet and calm.

Later, a fire on the hearth will add a golden glow with red and black: the 'smells and bells' of our sabbath in crackling incense.

Outside, rain threatens, now only a mist. A front is coming through.

mutant martian spear plant - cont.

You remember this, the strange plant pictured lower right? It got bigger, and more threatening looking. The king took action. Chemical warfare. sigh. . . . It reminds me of the old science fiction movies:

"What is it?!"

"I don't know. KILL IT!"

Now we know what it is, but it's dead. We killed Jack.

In his pulpit.

Luckily, there are others. ("We're sorry, others!") I hope they're not angry.

Doe, a deer. . . .

This.
Is.
Amazing.What I like are the reactions: (1) shock, (2) delight, (3) catch it, (4) join in, or (5) ignore. . . .

It is good to remember what we are capable of.

Even in a train station.

Maybe especially in a train station!

(Thanks to Gretchen over at the Happiness Project.)

the greening of the greenwood

I have been taking photos most every morning for over a week, and I think we may have surrounded the time when the forest made the jump from bud to leaves, if not captured it on film! I'll be posting the photos later, but here's a nice 'beginnings' shot, of the greening of the greenwood.

I love spring. . . .

free flowers

OK, so I was all impressed with the fact that flowers I did not plant were blooming here at the greenwood. I planned to dazzle you with pictures of these lovely, natural wonders.

Then, I saw Ewa's Bloom Day posting, apparently part of a garden bloggers' tradition of posting pictures on the 15th of the month of everything that's blooming.

You won't believe what's blooming in Ewa's garden, in POLAND! [isn't it - like - still COLD there?!!] sheesh.

Oh well. Here are my modest little beauties, the ones NOT planted by human hands. viola odorata

And I believe this is some sort of Anemone. . . .

COMING SOON: new and amazing photos of the mutant martian spear plant. Alas, the king says its days are numbered. . . .

the cookie tin

These have got to be Steve's best 'Jumbles' ever. Ever!

I have "the recipe". But it won't help.

1 cup plus 2 Tblsp all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup light brown sugar
8 Tblsp unsalted butter
1 large egg
3/4 tsp pure vanilla extract
1 cup semisweet chocolate chips
1 1/2 cups raisins
3/4 cup pecan halves (toasted then chopped)
1 1/2 cup whole almonds (toasted then chopped)

I have the "Secret" to the recipe. But it won't help, either. Or not much, anyway. (the Secret: soak the raisins in Capt. Morgan's or Myers Rum for several hours - or overnight - drain off and drink the rum from the raisins before mixing the cookie dough).

You see, Steve's Jumbles are always 'one-offs'. They're never the same, twice. And there's no telling what's in there for any given batch! The Christmas ones I tried under his tutelage were a disaster. These, however, are the best EVER.

sigh.

In the refillable tin, which means I have to refill it and return in order to hope for more Jumbles!

I can't face the thought of another Jumbled debacle like Christmas, but luckily my friend Cheryl over at A Simple Yarn has just the thing with which to refill the cookie tin: Sugar Cookies.

Click over there for a second - don't they look good?!

Conveniently, I have a number of oversized cookie cutters that have yet to cut cookies. Here they are, posing in front of the Gaelige sign that says "Greenwood" in Irish: an choill ghlas. Yep, also from our friends over at A Simple Yarn. I'm a huge fan.

Invasion of the mutant martian spear plant. . . .

This thing is just plain scarey looking. I have no idea what it is, but it's growing like a weed in the middle of the meadow where little else will grow.

Here it is in context. It looks like it would pierce your foot if you stepped on it. Another thing that I should kill while I still can, while it's still small? "Small" being a relative term here. . . .

Speaking of killing small plants, though, I think the tomatoes are toying with me. They have not grown a bit since the last picture posted. Perversely, now I want them to survive! Maybe they heard my earlier threats and are on strike. I'm sorry, little tomatoes - please grow!

Now back to our mystery: does anyone have any idea what this pointy plant is?

**************************
UPDATE [Thursday, 04.16.09] - seen on king's to-do list: "Kill mutant martian spear plant"

the arrival of the evangels

What is it? It's kind of gnarly looking. . . .

The story goes that at the king's last house, the landscape designer placed pathetic looking sticks of trees on either side of the entrance to the drive.

"What are those?!"

"You're going to love them."

"No I don't; I hate them. Make them go away."

"You've got to trust me on this. You're going to love them. If you don't love them, I'll come get them myself and plant them at my house. And I'll plant whatever you want here, instead. . . . But you're going to love them."

He loved them.

Here's what they looked like many years later, on our wedding day. Yes, it's the amazing green wall of leaves in the top left half of the photo, behind the string quartet. Towering over the man in uniform, son Antonio.

What is it? It's fagus sylvatica 'pendula' - a Weeping European Beech tree.

There were four of them, two at each entrance of the drive. I promptly dubbed them the evangels. They were impressive! A real presence, with or without leaves.

We have only two at the greenwood, so I guess we really can't call them the 4 evangels, but I still think of them that way. They finally went in yesterday (they're not exactly easy to find), and we discussed which two of the four we thought they might be the namesakes of.

"These guys look more like St. George and the Dragon." the king commented.

"You're right!"

The battle is on. Here's St. George. The dragon was the first one pictured.

Give them 15 or 20 years. You're going to love them!

flora update

More veggie rows are in within the garden enclosure, some boughten marigolds mark the end of the bean rows. That's an asparagus trench to the far left. It's still not much to look at, is it? Here, meanwhile, is a veggie garden that's gorgeous. I don't know if I can take the pressure. Precision lettuce?! Oh well. . . . the daffodils are out in full force. This one is gargantuan!This patch of white daffodils is the only patch I planted of all the same [named] kind: Thalia. They smell heavenly. Luther bit off the first bloom a few days ago, but there are more open today - and more to come, looks like.
Out back, the pod people have arrived.A couple of days ago, little green pips popped up all over the forest floor. You can see two of them in the picture, and a larger specimen that is already turning into a pod person parasol, otherwise known as a Mayapple. They'll cover the forest floor in a few weeks!

after

As promised, here are the flowers in the pot. . . . Give them a couple of days. They'll grow into it.

problem vegetables. . . .

This is the funniest article I've read in a long time: The Locavore's Dilemma: What to do with the kale, turnips, and parsley that overwhelm your CSA bin.

I was hooked by the first line: "It was what I did to the macaroni and cheese that made me seek professional help." (wait'll you read what she did to the macaroni and cheese!)

Meanwhile, here's my problem veggie, the tomato. I don't like tomatoes, but I'm growing them. From seed. There are 5 of them now, total, in two pots. Three for three in this pot alone! Wait'll the tomatoes start coming. . . . (and no, I refuse to put them into macaroni and cheese!) If I had any sense, I'd kill them now while they're still small; while there's still time.

In other news, here's my problem planter. It cracked in the harsh winter. The shiny stuff is Gorilla Glue liberally applied in an attempt to stave off the inevitable for one more season. When the instructions say that it "expands" - believe it! Five minutes after this picture was taken, it looked like a fuzzy caterpillar snake was crawling up the planter. Luckily, it appears I can chisel that off, later - or paint it.

After the glue is mostly dry, I get to put all these plants in. Woo hoo! [stay tuned for the "After" picture]

the April fool

The first thing Lux Luther did on his very first day with us was to decapitate a peony blossom.

Unfortunately, we thought it was kind of cute, and laughed while he raced around with his pom-pom-peony. In short, we encouraged him.

It wasn't quite as funny when he started attacking the bush, and 'retrieving' blossoms like thrown tennis balls.

After a summer of intense flower-sensitivity-training and rehab, it seemed Luther was well on his way toward responsible canineship, in a live-and-let-live sort of dog/flower peaceful coexistence sort of way.

That ended today. He's had a serious brush with recidivism. No more Mr. Nice-guy! We have a floricidal maniac on our hands. . . .

He's decapitated one of the lovely double daffodils. Here: at least we can enjoy it for a while in photo-form - a little the worse for wear - nestled in the door knocker.
I regret to say that my language at the time does not bear repeating. We'll have to come up with a remedial training/disciplinary intervention protocol!

That, or else arm the fleurs. . . .

big garden; little beginnings

The beginnings of a veggie garden are not particularly attractive. Especially with the makeshift fence having been knocked down by the wind. [I guess that answers our question as to whether it would keep deer out. . . .]

But look closer.Wee radishi. [yes, I know. "Radishes." But I like radishi better.]

Or are they carrots?

Impossible to tell at this very early stage with only the cotyledons* present.

Which reminds me of one of the early stories in my family lore: the time my mother dispatched my dad out into the garden for some basil leaves for the salad. "There are several plants just across from the porch door," she advised. Five minutes later, he was back, sans basil.

"Are you sure that's where they are?" he asked.

She stalked out and gestured towards several small plants. "Right there!" she said, and ripped off several leaves.

"I thought they looked a lot like pepper plants." he ventured.

"Not at all," she insisted, and offered him a leaf to taste. He made a face.

They ate "basil" leaves on their salad until the first small pepper formed on the basil bush. . . .

Anyway - here are the strahwrberries.More plants to come.
*******************
*the first leaves to appear in a germinating seed. Apparently pronounced KAY-tee-LAY-dn, although left to my own devices, I'd go with co-TIE-le-don. Rhymes with 'go! tie one on.'

and-a-one, and-a-two. . . .

These guys are glorious!

And yes, these are part of White Flower Farm's The Works.

yet. . . .

At first light, the king made it out first.

"Pi, I think your first daffodil is here."

I looked. Yes indeed! There it was, just to the left of the bench. As I looked, I saw others: three, all told. Each different.

What colours in this, the first I photographed! Yellow, white, and peach:And here, the first we saw - the biggest one:Here, the third, almost overlooked, shyly nestled just outside the woods' edge.Finally, this is where I will look for more blooms tomorrow!Officially, spring has sprung here at the greenwood.

not yet. . . .

OK. We're several days into spring, but it hasn't officially sprung here at the greenwood.
See?

Yes, I know it's foggy. But look closer: no daffodils.

Not really. Not yet.

Here's one that may pop in the next day or so.
Wait! What's that? Off in the distance?
Is that yellow? Daffodils?!
Sheesh. . . . just across the street - and everywhere else I look - the daffodils are out. Just not here. Just not yet.

Meanwhile, here's a picture of what's gotta be my favorite place in the whole world.We're here. We're waiting. . . .

[note to self: 200 daffodil bulbs don't go nearly as far as one would think. . . .]

I have been remiss

Since the last post - the one about snow - the snow melted in 70 degree weather.

Thereafter, it snowed again, but didn't stick.

We've had a couple cold days, so have relished the last days of burning a fire in the fireplace before it really gets too warm. Meanwhile, a couple of updates:

The first gift plant? It survived the worst of the winter apparently evergreen. I had high hopes for spring blossoms but discovered this the other day:

It appears the deer have found it. And found it tasty.

It now has a little deer cage around it, but the damage may be done. . . .

Dratted deer!

Let's see. . . . in other news, the daffodils are coming up. This is a multi-purpose picture, showing (1) the snow gone, (2) daffodil greenings and (3) red marks and white flags - which leads to other news: the installation of an "invisible" fence for Luther. The red marks are Miss Utility powerline indicators; the white flags, the visual warning of the invisible fence location.

Here is the preliminary layout of the veggie garden. Yes, those are invisible fence markers behind the veggie garden. . . . what was I thinking?! In any event, a fence of some sort will have to around it, if only to keep the deer (if not Luther) out.

Speaking of Luther, here he is in his "I could go either way" pose. His favorite pose outdoors.
Here's a close up.
It also shows a strange feature of our boy Luther: he has two left ears. We call this his 'comb-over' look. He looks like this much of the time.

I know you are all wondering about the birthday toy, which I wrote about here.

Here it is today.
It's multiplying! Even though I keep throwing bits of it away.

Coming up next: the making of a fleece toy. Turquoise. Scissors, cutting and 4-strand braiding. Riveting stuff! Don't miss it. [teaser photo to the right, showing basic ingredients. . . .]