It would be nice if I could smile sweetly, or tilt to one hip, or whisper promises to this pile of dirt to get itself in the bed of the garden cart, and then remove itself again onto my strawberry bed… but it ain’t happening. There’s a shovel in the shed with my name on it.
I once read a description of the landscape before New York City was an idea. I don’t remember the source or the author, but have always remembered the description of strawberry fields. The author claimed that Manhattan could have been described as strawberry fields forever. That sounds like paradise to me. Maybe I would move back there if it returned to that state of being.
I have never been able to grow too many strawberries, or blueberries or blackberries. If I can enough jam or jelly to last all year, then I can make pies. And if I bake and freeze enough berry pies to last all year, then I can make juice. And I have never canned enough juice to last my family of five all year, so therefore I can never grow too many strawberries, blueberries or blackberries (or grapes either.) Continue reading
The Fire in Heaven cooks up a fine feast.
Flowers face the brilliance that reveals me and makes a mirror of Earth.
We have been bringing food in from the gardens in the last couple of weeks that has been tasty indeed. I don’t know why but growing food works as eye candy too.
Onion chives, green tomatoes, jalapeños,tarragon, strawberries, dried jalapeño and banana peppers, banana peppers, poblano peppers, bell peppers, fresh figs
Count me among the millions who can’t resist the sight of a beautiful flower. Food comes from flowers, reason enough to love them. It is no superficial relationship that we have with these beauties. But beauty helps doesn’t it? Food for the eyes is nourishment for the Soul.
The speed of spring is overwhelming. One day the trees still look grey and drab. The next day there are hints of red and yellow and green. Then all of a sudden the trees are blocking my view of the neighbors, dogwoods are blooming, and I didn’t, or couldn’t, observe it all happening. Buds and shoots appear all around. Patches of grass go from brown to green. Asparagus and stevia and mint reappear like magic from the ground. It’s almost impossible to keep track of, but the flowers really steel the show, tantalizing us with the hope, (never really a promise,) of cherries and strawberries, blueberries, nectarines and artichokes. Continue reading
I like living in the upstate of South Carolina. We get four seasons, but winter is mild. It can be drab though. Our mostly hardwood trees just look grey and naked and forlorn in the winter time. We had a warmish weekend, and I stepped out to pull some weeds on Saturday. It’s been so warm this winter that the bulbs are coming up early, and I saw a few flowers already on my strawberries.