Dog Duty

No, not dog-dooty, though there will be some of that.  This is my note to our dog caretaker {Hi, Jon!}  for the next three days while we are on holiday (Tuppy-the-Puppy will be there, too)…

Sandy-the-Dog // Everything You Need to Know About the Care and Feeding of the Long-time Family Dog While We are Away

Yes, she had a bath.  She just smells like that and looks the way she does because…?  We don’t know.  We saved her from the junkyard years ago (she is at least 13+ years old now), but she still looks like a recent rescue.

When Tuppy spent a week with us recently
When Tuppy spent a week with us recently

She does not play fetch or any typical dog games fairly, but does actually want you to take back whatever the item was you threw that caused her to chase – you just have to pry from her slobbery mouth.  The growl is totally fake.

She sleeps a lot.   A lot.  She likes to nap in the sun sometimes, but usually just the coolest place on the floor.  Or right on top of your feet.  Don’t trip.

And she is mostly deaf, not just being rebellious or ignoring you.  She reads lips pretty well, though, so if you get into her line of vision  and pronounce in an exxagerated fashion, you’re off to the races.  :)

She moves really slowly now, but loves a good run-n-play in the yard…for 3-5 minutes, max.  Then, naptime.

I know EVERYONE says this: but she doesn’t bite and is not vicious – ever. 

However, her bark is LOUD!!!  Which, we use to our advantage when {ignorant} solicitors refuse to believe the no-soliciting sign on our porch.  We crack the door and let her go crazy barking and make them believe we are saving their lives by not letting them in.  Truth: if I opened the door fully, she’d quit barking and they’d see her tail was actually wagging in a Welcome-come-on-in-and-stay-awhile way and they would suddenly be best friends.

She loves you already.  It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t even know you yet.  She has never met a human being she didn’t want to adore fully right off the bat, with the possible exceptions being screaming-2-year-olds.  They make her nervous.  But fully-grown people? She loves even the dog-haters.  She is just a great big lover.  She will attach herself to you as if she is the Secret Service on Presidential Guard duty.  No one will be able to get to you on her watch…and you may even have trouble getting around her if say, you want to go to the bathroom or something.  Her motto, once you have bonded, will be,

Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God…” 

Yes, this will be your life for these Sandy-the-Dog days.

Sandy is a little jealous of Tuppy (the spokes-model puppy).  It is an unsanctified area of her life.  Tuppy is fluffy and soft and small, cute and young; and poor Sandy, rather decrepit and wiry and gray and used up.  She will give you the Wow-all-these-years-of-loyalty-obviously-mean-nothing eyes.  Just pet her, too, once in awhile and she’ll be appeased.  A few treats a day are fine.  Whatever is needed to show love.

By the way – she is really not a big over-eater, though if she thinks Tuppy is eyeing her food, she’ll start madly gulping it down.  So, treats whenever Tuppy gets any are fine while we are away.

She is not allowed on the furniture, no matter what she tries to tell you.

Do not even attempt to take her on a walk unless you have good insurance for shoulder-injuries.  She will choke herself into a coma trying to dislocate your bones.  Her exercise is running the fenceline, warding off evil and possible cats at breakneck speed.  Time in the backyard will see her through.

She likes to go outside and then come back in, oh, hmmmm, about 87 times a day.  But can actually handle much less.  Here are the reasons she will give you for wishing to go outside:

  1. Is that an airplane?  Let me out there.  Woof%$#@bark-bark%$%$!
  2. I think I heard a cat.  No really – there may be a cat stealthily walking the fence.  Let me out there!  Ruff*ruff*woof*ruff*grrrrrrrrr……
  3. Oh – did you hear that?  Other dogs are out barking.  If other dogs are out barking, I want to be out barking!  Open the door, bark-bark-bark-woof-bark!
  4. I saw a bird a bird fly over the backyard.  Let me out there.  I need to tell those birds what’s what!  Hey-bark-^%$#-woof-woof-this-is-a-$#@-no-fly-zone!  Got it???  Geesh.
  5. Hey-it’s raining.  I hear wind.  There are drops of water coming down. Let me go give the weather a piece of my mind.  C’mon!  Let me out there!  Peace-woof-woof-be-bark-still!!

Then she’ll run the fence making noise like a banchee and want right back inside.

The main thing, I think, is – and I cannot stress this enoughdon’t let our dog die while we are gone or that will just ruin our whole…lives.  :)  No pressure or anything.  But we’d like to be there for that important life event .  So, you know – just keep her healthy and alive while we are away.  To the best of your ability.  :)

Ba-da–bum!

 

I Caught a Katydid

Good heavens, the garden has gone wild this year. Wild!

I caught her.  This is no small feat since they look like leaves, so difficult to see. She, such a faulous shade of {dare I say it?} ‘Jeanie-green,”  emerged from a potted zucchini and began to stroll up the water spout.  I had a cannister nearby and swept her in while I decided what to do.

I read this online:

Katydids are members of the grasshopper family, and can be distinguished by their long “horns,” bright green color, and by the male’s loud, shrill call which sounds like “Katy did” and thus has earned them their onomatopoeic name. They do not pose any particular problem for the home gardener, but do feed on shrub and tree foliage.

Now, I think everyone knows I loathe, despise and abominate the grasshopper and it’s whole immediate family.  And these katydids are apparently related – yet, seemingly less trashy.  There was none of the grasshopper-tobacco-spitting-garden-chomping-cussing-taunting-and-bullying going on with her.  She just seemed to be out for a morning stroll.  I think we all have relatives that are utterly horrrendous and we have to admit we are related, yet we know we are nothing like them.

katydid release

So…

I released her into some front yard shubbery (which needs some pruning, anyway), where she may munch on deciduous leaves and make noises to her hearts content.  But she better keep away from my veggies.

“She” may be a he.  I did not spend time getting acquainted…

Light sprinkle

Should I water or shouldn’t I?  A rain cloud drifts over and the gentlest, lightest drops begin to congregate on the patio…but then don’t actually cover it.  I drag the hose out to make the morning rounds to pots and garden squares.  Wait – what the heck, run, Sandy, run…we get to the house – sorta wet.

tomatilla and lily in the rain

Then – what?  The sun again?

It cannot decide what is going to happen out there.  I didn’t water, but it barely rained enough, if you can call it rain, to leave sparkling drops on leaves.  So, I watered.  Then, a few hours later, a real, live rain begins…and ends 3.4 minutes later, but it did seem to reach the ground…maybe.  Can you say amiguous?

zucchini in a morning rain

Oh well, it gives me a reason to visit the garden and make sure all is well again.

straightneck squash

Weather means more when you have a garden. There’s nothing like listening to a shower and thinking how it is soaking in around your green beans. ~Marcelene Cox

Sneak peek:

A couple of little grandgirls got anxious today and picked about 2-3 dozen tomatoes and tomatillos before their time.  Oops.  But I do understand the unbearable anticipation.  I figured since this tomatilla was off the vine, we may as well take a look inside.  So far…

tomatilla before its' timeI bet I have 200 tomatillas on my 4 plants right now.  The tomatoes better get busy or their cousins will surely outshine them.

tomatillas gone wild

I walk without flinching through the burning cathedral of the summer. My bank of wild grass is majestic and full of music. It is a fire that solitude presses against my lips. ~Violette Leduc, Mad in Pursuit

today's lettuce

Savage Beast

You big, fat, self-indulgent, self-loving, arrogant, insolent, pompous, contempuous, grotesque, repungent, foul, revolting, grizzly, thick, greasy-gutless, corpulent, fleshy, pointless, asinine, gruesome, shameless, sleezeball-of-a-terd, gorging, life-sucking, hoover-jaded, pig-pack, slimeball, meaty-monkey pudged, interloping roly-poly, perverted, desacrating, profane piece of crap.

horn worm on tomato

{{G R O S S }} Just stopped an 8-pound* tomato hornworm in my garden, on my cherry tomato plant.  Though I was in an annual war at our last house, I had only found a couple here in 2008 prior to now…*sniff.  My lovely tomato plants have been targeted by the enemy.

I am not even going to attempt to tell you how I really feel.

*8 pounds may or may not have been an exageration.  But it would have been 8 pounds if we hadn’t spotted it and beat it to bits with a shovel – as it bled MY tomato leaves onto the ground.

Dare to be Disciplined

I heard Joyce Meyer say this 20 years ago:

Jesus said if you don’t bear fruit, you’ll be pruned.  And He said if you do bear fruit, you’ll be pruned so you’ll bear more fruit.  So, I figure, you’re pruned if you do and pruned if you don’t – so you may as well let the Lord prune you.

It looks almost cruel.  And I am not even done yet.  Every year in July I have to do it.  I don’t want to do it and I think of every possible excuse.

For two weeks now I have known I needed to cut back the petunias and some of the other annuals.  Each day I’d think: I just can’t right now because they are so beautiful and flowering like crazy.  I will wait until they aren’t flowering so much.

But during this time of the summer, they are in their glory.  They are fruitful, they are going to flower.  They are flowering like crazy and they are going to keep up the pace until suddenly  – they can’t anymore.  Because it is what they do.  It is what they were created to do.  It makes them happy.

petunias in the trash can

But if they don’t get pruned, a month from now they’ll be long and leggy and weak and start to go to seed.  Their leaves will yellow, tired out from the heat and from producing so quickly, so profusely.  They won’t go into the next season healthier and fuller and stronger because they will have spread themselves completely thin just being their beautiful selves.

I finally just have to be courageous and pick up the flower-heavy handfuls of leaves and stems and soft petals and lop them off quickly, no looking back.  Pruning has to happen.  Pruning has to happen I meant to say that twice.

By pruning them now, in the height of their glory, I am actually securing a future for them with more leaves to take in more sunshine, roots that plunge more deeply for the trauma.  I am making sure that a month from now, there will be twice as much flowering, healthier, stronger plants filling my pots.  The fragrance will be deeper and sweeter, rather than barely perceptible from an over-expenditure of energy now.

pruned petunias

The pruning is necessary for the good of the flower.  It isn’t cruel.  It is my love for these spicy, ambrosial, purple petunias (and the others) that causes me to finally take the cutting edge to them.  It is my care and because I know the future for them.  Four weeks from now, 3 maybe, they will not only have recovered, they will be amazing.

I cannot help but see the application.  I have been pruned and I struggle to believe it is not a punishment for doing the very thing I was created to be and to do.  It stinks.  I never like it.  But…It is strengenthing me for what is next.  Dang it feels cruel and unneeded and what the heck – so many things, beautiful offerings, are in the garbage can.  I probably will never like it as it comes around seasonally, again and again in life.

But I caught a glimpse as I threw a handful of my treasured, silly little annuals in the trash today: This is for you, this will make everything better.

My dear child, don’t shrug off God’s discipline,
    but don’t be crushed by it either.
It’s the child he loves that he disciplines;
    the child he embraces, he also corrects. Hebrews 12.5-6

Prune away, Lord, prune away.

 

 

32 years – some snapshots

Happy Anniversary to a man I so don’t deserve, but thank God for everyday.

What was I thinking 32 years ago today, at exactly 8:05 pm, just before I married Dave, as Sharon was spraying my hair into place?

what i was thinking just before i walked down the aisle

Relief…we got through the wedding ceremony so we could tear into the next 32

years of crazy-beautiful-strange-and-sweet LIFE!

better to marry A {very} few of our stats:

kiss that sealed the deal

Love can last.  It can grow.

We were like newlyweds for the first 25 years or so.  Then we found out, like so many have, that marriage and deep love is fragile.  Our vows said “I choose you this day…” but we couldn’t even have grasped what that choice would actually mean.

Today you wrote to me:

Until you’ve laughed and learned and loved and listened; year upon year upon year… Until you’ve wiped hot tears off the cheek of the one you love, until you’ve been through the agony and wonder of childbirth, until you’ve walked through the fires of hell side by side, hand in hand, heart in heart, until you’ve stared death in the face (both spiritually and literally) and said, not today; then you don’t really know what 32 years together can bring.

Now we know what that choice means.  And still we choose.  I love you.  You.

32 years of marriage
32 years of marriage

There’s a New Kid in Town

FIRST: Please go sign the petition to save the bees.

Please sign the petition!
Please sign the petition!

“Save the Bees” may sound very silly, but they are important in pollinating crops and if they are gone, 1/3 of our food supply is gone.  We already rely too much on other nations for what we should be able to supply ourselves.  I want to see America working toward sustainable food.  I have grandchildren.  So, please consider signing {here}?

Now, the “new kid” // I have discovered a totally new, dark green veggie.

Well, OK – I didn’t actually discover it.  It had already been discovered, but I had never heard of it.  So I was surprised to hear that some one got there before me. Brussels-leaves

It’s Brussels Sprouts leaves.

No, not the leaves of the miniature-cabbage-looking, tiny, little sprouts.  Not the actual sprouts themselves – the leaves that shield the growing plant.  These are the great, big brassica leaves that suck up all the sunshine and nutrients to feed the tiny little sprouts – which {btw} should never, ever, for any reason known to mankind be boiled into mushy, gray yuckiness again.  Too many children have been harmed by lifelong nightmares over this.  Please stop the insanity and get some good Brussels Sprouts recipes for the love of Pete and your own offspring!!!

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Anyway – back to the leaves…

I picked up a 4-pack of Brussels Sprouts seedlings at the farm store on a whim in mid-May.  I figure if a garden center is selling them in my zone at that time, they know I have time to get a harvest.  WRONG!  Even the Bonnie Plants website says this is better grown as a fall crop because they like it cold {brrrrrrr}.  I knew it in my heart, but wished otherwise.

It has just gotten too hot.  So the plant was about to bolt and have to be trashed.  I knew I needed to remove them and maybe try late-summer planting for the fall…oh, but wait, I betcha a thousand bucks none of our garden centers will have any in the fall because “fall gardening” in Colorado is mostly mums – that is all anyone offers us.  Seriously?  People, I implore you—!

Anyway, as I went to remove the big leaves, it just seemed like maybe they’d be edible.  They are like the very heavy outer leaves of their cabbage-cousins that are homegrown and you may have never even seen those if you buy only at a regular market – except on the box/logo of a Cabbage-Patch Kid doll, but it’s true.  Cabbage starts with beautiful, dark green, outer leaves – which are thrown away so we’ll buy the pale, celerey-colored version it.  TSK!  And I really mean that in a gardening-cuss-word sort of way.

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I just decided to save all the leaves to see what I could find out.  And it turns out, they are indeed very edible, but rarely sold or seen anywhere and mostly thrown away or composted.  European Farmer’s Markets  have them piled at the back of their stands for a dollar a pound for those who’d ask.  But finding them for sale in the US is much more surprising at this time.

But I read that you can treat them like kale.  Or like collard greens (which I shamefully admit I have never tried, not once in my lifetime – but upon learning they are wonderful fried in bacon grease – I just know I shall like them).  The writers on the food sites say they are slightly tougher than collards and more pungent that kale.

I gathered the leaves and tossed them into a big bowl in the fridge while I pondered what I should do with them.  I have collected a few recipes to try.

My first experiment ~ CHIPS!

I love kale chips, they are mellow and you feel so superior eating them.  I mean – I still eat store-bought potato chips, but eating the healthier kale chips, well, it carries clout where I live.  I even made spinach chips once, from bagged baby spinach and while they were delish, they were like eating a vapor – much too lightweight to have been worth the effort.  Dave said it was like he was eating communion wafers when they dissolved on his tongue (although he is not Catholic and I don’t think he really knows) and I couldn’t put my finger on it…what were they like???  Oh, I know: that super-thin fish food you pinch out into your goldfish bowl (white, orange and green, itty bitty wafers?) – yes, that is what the baby spinach chips turned out like, tasty, but just not there.  But I figured I’d try the Brussels Sprouts leaves as chips…du-dum-dum…(queu scary music).

I washed and dried enough of the large leaves to cover and slightly over-lap on 2 baking sheets.  I cut the middle rib from each leaf with my handy-dandy grapefruit knife.  I tossed the leaves in about 2 teaspoons of extra-virgin olive oil (which was too much) and placed them on the baking sheets.  They were crowded, but it is ok – they’ll shrink as they dry out.  I sprinkled the leaves with Kosher salt and the teeniest, nearly imperceptible dusting of garlic powder.  300° oven for 10-15 minutes.

Here is my verdict: They are crispy and hold up well as chips.  Sandy-the-dog is quite taken with them (I only recently learned how much she enjoys garden vegetables) and they taste stronger than kale, for sure.  They taste like their cultivar, brassica oleracea implies: kinda brassy.  I will…eat them.  They are a lightly-salted crispy snack.  Guilt-free good.  And I will give them to Sandy as treats.

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I made two batches and still had a bowl full of leaves left.

I found a site that deals with what is called “cast-off cooking,” in which their interest in sustainable foods has brought a series of recipes using parts of foods we usually waste.  No surprise that they had ideas for these large Brussels Sprouts leaves.

Highly nutritional, high in vitamin C and K, anti-cancerous, aids in DNA cell repair…I mean they are good to eat.  So I may try try some of their recipes, but for sure I will just find some kale-type recipes and substitute.

Here are some good kale recipes.  And honestly, if it weren’t so hot, I’d have made this Kale and Cannellini Soup with the rest of the leaves yesterday.  Only I’d change it of course.  The recipe and the title:  Brussels Leaves and Cannellini Soup.

brussels leaves collage

So for the future, I blanched the leaves and plunged them into ice-water to green them up really well, drained them and stuck them in a freezer with the note: make soup!  We’ll see.

AND, there is this…

calvin and hobbs

This quiet moment

pool grandbebes

Sunday afternoon.  My garden is still smiling from a torrential downpour yesterday evening.  It battered the petunias a bit, yet they are bright and beautiful, fragrant and deeply brilliant, anyway. It is so wonderful to step outside, know there are lots of things that need “done” and still be greeted by beauty all my works cannot create, anyway.  I thank God for this amazing grace! 201 208 213I have about a dozen weekend projects going and I don’t think they’ll get finished, but I am so grateful to get to work on them and see the mirror wall really taking shape (since Dave’s ribs are fully healed) and I have been re-doing all the grandbebe craft supplies trying to answer the age-old question: how do you keep creativity-inspiring supplies for art and crafts on hand for kids (and accesible) AND not go crazy when they are actually {quite liberally} used for inspired creativity?  This doesn’t answer that question, but I have decided to make a list (because I LOVE lists) of simple art projects they can do at anytime with the things I have on hand.  That will at least answer the question, “Nonna – what can we do now?” when the little ones are here.

What a loud and glorious week I have had.

b

There was an old woman {who is actually not that old}  who lived in Colorado; she had so many grandbebes she could barely keep up…  I have enjoyed large chunks of time {days, even} with the first 6 (of 8.4 current grandebes): the K-kids, the little Rock & Jovan girlies, and Hunter-Magoo.  I got to see Kai briefly, but baby Bailey was away (D2S).

c

There was splashing (the pool), and tiny little swim suits and trunks in a veritable trail from the doors to the bathroom.  There was squeaking (the trampoline) as little ones jumped high and long.  Everybody stayed up way too late and we probably snacked way too much.  There was art and “school work” and playing pretend house and dress-up, dancing and army guys, fort-building, sand-digging and looking through the telescope at the moon {“I see the real craters, Nonna!!!” said one.  “You can actually see the dark side of the moon!” another told me} and general silliness all around.

a

I am pooped out.  Good thing I had my kids young because these little ones wore.me.down!  But – with goodness.  I am depleted wholly by the best things of life.  I am blessed!

d

 

Gemma-Time!

Gemma and I got some just-us time wholly unexpectedly this fine Saturday morning.  It was so fun to have her all to myself – that hasn’t happened much since we used to have pre-school together weekly.  We chatted about life (she is 6 now and heading in to full-day first grade!), played with Play-Doh, read a 1940s collection of Nursery Rhymes and tried to figure out what on earth some of them meant???, made pita-toast egg and cheese sandwiches, more Play-Doh time, then we watched 1 1/2 episodes of “My Little Pony” while she explained all the characters to me and how they interact (she does so love Pinkie-Pie, the party-loving pony) then we decided, before heading to the pool, that we’d do a major art project.  She chose water-color painting.

We used some vinyl stick on letters to spell out her name on a big white sheet of kid’s art paper.  Gemma used a black permanent marker to draw a design right over the letters and everything.  She was a fan of the zig-zags and threw in some circles for good measure.  We chose just 5 watercolors in an egg carton to paint in the areas she had created (though she did a little mixing right on the paper for more hues).  Her Nonni made quite a mess with those and they are highly-stain-making {*ahem}.  Nonna now has colorful hands – at least until time in the pool.

When Gemma was finished filling in all of the spaces she had created (and there were LOTS), she got to carefully-carefully-carefully peel off the vinyl lettering.

And VOILÀ!

watercolord, negative space, art for kids

Gemma and her watercolor-name art.  So pretty – both Gemma and her art!!!

Song on video:  Late 1977, “Hey, Deanie,” by Shaun Cassidy, which would have been a much better song if it had been “Hey, Jeanie!”

Hey Deanie

Won’t you come out tonight

The summer’s waitin’

The moon is shinin’ so bright

Hey Deanie you’re the one

I’m dreamin’ of…