A bee is busy in the blueberry bushes blossoming in February here on Paris Mountain.
Last year I signed up for the Old Farmer’s Almanac personal planting reminders. A few weeks ago the only seeds they recommended starting indoors were onions, but I plan to plant onion starters this year. By February 18 the indoor seed planting list grew to about twenty items, among them were broccoli and lettuce, both of which I plan to put in my west wing garden this year. I’m proud to say that I have already purchased all of my seeds for this year’s garden. So I went in to my seed box and put some lettuce and broccoli seeds in the kitchen window just two days ago. Continue reading
The garden grows beneath a layer of summer gone.
I combed dry leaves and branches
from parsley, asparagus, iris and lily leaves, green and crisp
and pulled on roots of grass and peppermint, to restrain them.
Bertha was my husband’s mother. Like me, she moved to Greenville with her husband. She was originally from up north, possibly New York City. She was half Cherokee and half descended from African slaves in America, but she never spoke much about her life before coming to Greenville and raising her eight children. According to her husband she was a kitchen mechanic. He would sometimes sell her pies in the neighborhood. According to my husband, she didn’t use measuring cups or spoons to make any of the many treats he so fondly remembers. But his favorite was her pound cake. I got the recipe for Bertha’s Lemon Pound Cake from my niece, and have made it many times now. In spite of it being winter, we are getting about a dozen eggs a day. One way to use up eggs is to make this cake that calls for no less than seven. So last week I made a pound cake.
Bertha’s Lemon Pound Cake Recipe
- 3 sticks unsalted butter (1 1/2 cups), room temp.
- 3 cups sugar
- 7 eggs, room temp.
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 2 tsp. baking powder
- 1/4 tsp. salt
- 3 tbsp. lemon extract
- 1 cup milk, room temp.
the day waits for the truth
for the sun to burnish what is real
for lines to define more than possibilities
for more than hope
I thought I discovered
the gooseberry bush but
when I mentioned it of course
he said he had spotted it years ago.
Of course because he regularly mows
the perimeter. But of course
I picked them and I ate them too.
Sometimes, when you see everything in black and white, it really is that simple.