Petunia

Although these are lovely in both color and scent, I am not a fan of petunias generally... They're annual plants, only good for one season and then they die. I prefer to invest my gardening time and money in perennials which will return year after year-- "workhorse" plants. At the very least I expect an annual in my gardens to self-seed and perpetuate itself that way -- like California Poppies, Honesty Plant, or Chives. (Petunias do not self-seed.)

Of course, annuals tend to make a bigger show -- bigger flowers, brighter colors, longer bloom-time. They splash into a garden making their presence known, taking up space, promoting themselves as the main attraction. But they have no staying power. Come back next year and they will be gone, you might find a withered leaf or a dried out root but that's it. Meanwhile the perennials grow steadily. Returning year after year beautiful and dependable they provide the framework in most gardens, the background against which annuals flaunt themselves.

If life is a garden are we dependable perennials, or splash-and-dash petunias?

From the Garden

The aroma of rosemary hangs low to the earth as I step out my back door. Grey storm clouds press the herbs growing beside my back steps, releasing their scent in the lightly humid air.

We have had rain every afternoon this week, a brief thundershower and then it clears. Evenings are cool and pleasant with a light breeze playing among the pines and a small rabbit I have named Carrots nestling against the garden fence. Mornings have been brilliant and shining with puffy white cumulus clouds gathering in preparation for the flashing thunderstorms of afternoon.

These are August days like I remember from my childhood and I am nostalgic for orange creamsicles, daisy chains, and fresh tomato and butter sandwiches.

In my back garden the tomato plants left by the previous owner are falling to the ground under the weight of ripening fruits. I gather a harvest of cherry grape tomatoes, yellow tomatoes, “ugly ripe” beefsteak tomatoes, and Roma tomatoes. One tiny basil plant yields a few fresh leaves. From my freezer, an onion bagel (toasted on one side) will provide the “bread” for my sandwich and an organic yogurt spread plus a dash of salt stands in for the butter.

Thick slices of yellow tomato still warm from the heat of the day wilt the basil leaves even as I layer the top of the bagel onto my sandwich. Perfect.

Wordless Work

This picture has nothing to do with this post.

Have you ever been so busy doing that it seems you have nothing left over for saying? I find that settling-in to my new home takes all my energy and my words.

I'm doing quite a lot of scrubbing and painting and digging (flowerbeds) and figuring out mechanical/electrical/plumbing things these days. I won't say it is mindless work, but it is wordless work.

Correction: Wordless in the sense of creativity with words, because in all honesty I do talk to myself while I am doing things. Allow me to quote myself:
If I put that there... and then this goes... Aha! That's it! ...
What in blue blazes do they mean? There is no slot on that side. Who writes these instructions? ...
OW! Blast! Well, that was really stupid. Try not to damage yourself next time. ...

You see what I mean.

The Come As You Are Party

Every time the Christian radio station plays one of the many currently popular songs containing the phrase "Come as you are..." my mind goes almost instantly to Gidget. Let me explain.

Do you remember those movies? Do you remember the one part when Gidget and her friend discover that the gang from the beach is planning a come-as-you-are party? The premise is that no invitations are sent and the guest list, date, and time of the party are kept secret. Each girl on the invite list will be doing whatever she normally would do when suddenly the guys arrive and unexpectedly drag her off to a party.

Gidget's friend (what was her name?) gets a peek at the plans and discovers not only when it's to be, but that she and Gidget are on the invite list. Knowing that they are on the list the girls get new dresses, do their hair, primp and preen, and generally make ready for a party. They know they've been invited and they're going to be ready.

The guys, knowing their plans were discovered, change the time of the party to the next morning instead. Gidget gets surprised while packing up the car to go fishing with her dad. She has white zinc (sunblock) on her nose which the guys won't allow her to wipe off and her friend, who was sleeping-in, will be going to the party in a flannel gown and bathrobe.

The songs on the Christian radio stations say "come as you are" and that's exactly how it works. If you have sunblock on your nose or sin in your life Christ is asking you to come to Him just as you are. That's a message the world needs to hear.

There's another lesson here too though. Once we have accepted Christ and been saved by His mercy and grace we're in on the party plans. We have our invitations... Okay, we still don't know the exact date and time but we know -- for sure -- that we're invited to heaven. Are we getting our souls ready for that party? Are we fixing out hair and our habits? Are we wearing our best dresses and our best attitudes?

Will God find us ready for Him or will He find us sleeping-in?

Summer Sauce

I didn't count the tomatoes. It was four ripe peppers and an onion I accidentally dug while working in the garden, but the tomatoes remained numberless and numerous. They filled the large colander, and diced into my biggest pot, still unnumbered, they filled it more than half way.

I have done this twice already -- harvesting and saucing from my new garden -- and the tomato plants are still full of ripening green tomatoes. The recipe changes slightly each time... it must be tasted and tested. Does it need more salt? More basil? Is there enough garlic? It is an organic process using handfuls and pinches and spoons for taste testing.

This was a particularly good batch -- a spicy, chunky, rich sauce that proudly proclaims "You can't buy this in a jar. I'm homemade."

I began with the numerous tomatoes, diced roughly and still warm from the garden the dirt freshly washed from them.
One small fresh onion was not enough for me, in went extra onion flakes.
Garlic powder, a generous sploosh of it.
Salt. Bullion. Basil, and basil flakes again later because more basil is almost always better.
Ground black pepper and red pepper flakes too so that the sauce contains red, green, and black peppers...
A sprig of oregano, and two sprigs of rosemary -- just because the rosemary plant is larger than the oregano plant in my herb garden. I simply pulled the leaves off and put them in the sauce whole but bruised.

It simmered, blended, melded, became rich and saucy. I saved out enough for a meal and the rest went into the freezer. Come January or February I will pull out a quart bag of summer tomato sauce, serve it over noodles and with cheese, and the spicy flavors will take me back to the heat of sun warmed tomatoes in an August garden, to the unnumbered and still ripening tomatoes of a September garden, to all the sun-mellowed days before the frosts.

If Not Today

The flowers that are buds today will be blooms tomorrow. The internet which will not be activated today after all, will be functional sometime this week. Sooner or later, time passes, and sometimes things happen just by doing nothing and waiting for the timing to be right.

I have been talking recently with friends who say Christ will be returning this year, they are certain of it. Songs are playing on the Christian radio stations saying it could be tomorrow, and down gravel roads I am reading hand lettered signs that ask if I am ready for His return because it could be today.

I am as ready as anyone for the Second Coming... today? tomorrow? Sounds good to me, I'll clear my calendar. I'd much prefer a theocratic (rule by God) form of government anyway. One small problem: No man shall know the day...

We don't know. We don't know what lotto numbers will be picked. We don't know, as the tv meteorologists are always proving, if it will rain tomorrow. We don't know when we will die. And we don't know when Jesus will return. All we do know is that He will return.

So in our todays and tomorrows, let's try to be ready. Whether He returns to Earth and meets us here, or if one of us return to Him by the paths of death and meet Him before the other, it is the same. Either event might be today, we just don't know.

Thank Heavens for Free Wi-Fi Hot Spots

Internet service will be turned on next Monday.

Why will getting internet service turned on take over a week? I don't know. In the meantime it's the local library, the Chick-fil-a, etc.

I will resume blogging on Monday.

Meantime, here's a baby sweater set I just finished knitting. The hat and booties are my own adaptation of other patterns (so they would match the sweater better).

Perennial Favorite

Summer Phlox "David"

I originally heard about tall summer phlox from P. Allen Smith, host of one of my grandmother's favorite gardening shows on PBS. I have since planted it and learned for myself that the hummingbirds recommend it also.

In the Garden Now

Bold stands of (Rudbeckia) Black-Eyed Susan fill up corners and brighten garden beds.

Another Forgotton Photo

This past spring the columbine blocked the footbridge and we hadn't the heart to chop them down until after they bloomed. They were so pretty there.

The Mt. Laurel

I meant to share this photo of Mt. Laurel earlier, back when it was still in bloom.

This flower is from a bush, small and scraggly and low to the ground. Anyone would look at that bush and think it was a seedling, barely old enough to bloom and probably about to die. But this bush has lived in that location for about 13 years ever since I rescued it from the side of the road where it was about to be paved over in a road-widening project.

Where it lives now the soil is poor (clay and rock really), the neighbor tried to mow it down once or twice, and there's been droughted summers just about every year.

Why doesn't this bush give up and die? The various winterberry holly and columnar barberry bought and planted nearby died after just a year each, but the Mt. Laurel struggles on, stunted and small and determined. It has the wildling tenacity those nursery potted plants didn't have.

It knows it must grow where it is planted. It must do the job God gave it to do -- bloom and grow -- in the spot it's in no matter what the conditions.

It does not long for the soft rich soil of other garden beds, or the constant water of the greenhouse drip hose, or the easy lifestyle of other shrubs. It simply grows, does its job, where it is.

And every spring when I see that it has lived through another year, when I see those few glossy dark green leaves and that tiny offering of delicate flowers my heart thrills. It's still alive! Anything is possible.

Seven Questions

If a child follows in your footsteps...

• Will they also walk in the footsteps of Jesus Christ?
• Will they focus on faith and time with God first?
• Will they find the wisdom to live today with tomorrow in mind?
• Will they be good stewards?
• Will they pray?
• Will they serve others?
• Will they know their Heavenly Father loves them?

Ditch Lily

The common orange Daylily, also known as Ditch Lily because it was often planted in ditches to help control roadside erosion. Perennial. Vibrant. Cheap. Sometimes you just can't beat the classics.

Ripe Blackberries

Even with eyes closed you can tell which blackberries are ripe. They are warmer in the August sun and softer. The dark fruit yields to fingers, dropping into hands. You cannot force a blackberry. When it is ready it will fall gracefully, gently separating from the stem, the aggregate drupeletts fragile and extravagant in the humidity.

And then there will be Blackberry Buckle.

Beat together 1/2 cup butter and 1/2 cup sugar until "fluffy" then add one egg. Beat until smooth. You can use an electric mixer, but if you use a hand whisk you will burn more calories and can justify having a second piece of buckle once it has baked.

Add 1/3 cup (organic skim) milk and 1 tsp vanilla, the real stuff, with a bean in it, so strong the scent fills the room as soon as you open the bottle. And stir in 1 cup unbleached flour, 1 1/2 tsp.baking powder, and a pinch of salt. Electric mixers should be at low speeds now, and those of us with whisking forks will make that adjustment naturally, slowing as the batter gets thick.

Fold 2 1/2 cups of deep purple fresh organic blackberries, still warm from the sun and coated with a little granulated sugar so they stay firm, into the batter. It will look like there are too many for the batter, but it will be just right. Pour into a greased and floured baking dish. Top with dots of butter and a sprinkle of cinnamon-sugar if desired, and bake.

In a 375 degree oven Blackberry Buckle will require about 35 or 40 minutes. When it is ready it will look like it could serve 6-8, but you find you can only make it stretch to four people. And with whipped cream on top Blackberry Buckle is so good, you might think you only made enough for two.

Bee and Blossom

Potatonol

My sister and I on a recent long drive discussed the merits of Ethanol in our gasoline. We canvased the fact that ethanol refineries are greater pollutants than oil refineries. We discussed the fact that 10% ethanol seems gives us fewer miles per gallon than un-blended gasoline in our vehicles. We mentioned the many bankrupt ethanol production plants. And we discussed the fact that a lot of taxpayer money is being spent to reduce our food (corn) supply.

"It would never be tolerated if it was the potato."

"Potatonol?"

"...if we had half as many french fries, and potato chips."

"Mashed potatoes."

"Or steak fries cost the same as your steak."

"Yeah, and you didn't get baked potatoes as a side anymore. Potatoes would cost too much."

"What's the name of that stuff the Irish make? The potato alcohol..."

The name, I've now done my research, is Poteen (aka: Potcheen or Irish Moonshine). Poteen was banned by the Irish government in 1661 and has been an Irish export since 1989. Knockeen Hills Poteen is 55% alcohol (and 110 proof).

Vodka, another potato based beverage, is distilled to 95% alcohol before being diluted and sold at 80-100 proof. I also learned about Aquavit, a Scandinavian potato distillation which is brewed to a roughly 45% - 50% alcohol content, although it seems to range from 40-100 proof.

It all sounds pretty high octane to me. I checked on the brewing/proof of corn liquor (aka: moonshine). Although unregulated, because it's illegal and no one's supposed to be making it, corn liquor, according to my internet sources traditionally distills near 80 proof. DIY Ethanol kits are available over the internet -- funny what you can find when you start looking -- and those websites recommend distilling ethanol to a liquid that is 200 proof or 100% alcohol content for fuel. Perhaps my math is off -- but I'm thinking pre-dillution vodka sounds a heck of a lot closer to fuel-grade than the moonshine.

Guard your potato chips, Potatonol might just be the wave of the future.

Quilting

You've probably noticed I haven't been quilting much recently. Projects have been languishing, UFOs abound, and this blog has been occupied by a patchwork of non-quilting posts. But I begin to feel quilty and fabric-obsessed again. There was a hint of cool evening the other night that made me think of snuggly quilts. The sewing machine is tired of being packed away, it wants to be out and humming. Autumn is coming -- it's already August -- and soon the geese will be flying overhead. Quilts will follow.

Flying Goose Quilt

The Poppy

I used to think that poppies didn't make great cut flowers. Now I know better. After cutting these fragile flowers you must take a match and burn the cut end of the stem to seal it. If they lose their sap they die; to live, to keep their beauty, they must be burned a little.