Some things about the Day and the Earth

my garden, nature, quotes, , , ,

In truth, I have never paid much attention to what is called Earth Day. But as someone just pointed out to me, every day is God’s day. That made me think of how “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fullness thereof.” And how He created the earth, to be a home for us people who are made in His image. He is so good to us. And in the beginning he looked over everything that He had made and called it Good.

Yes, we selfish people have done a lot to wreck things. We do damage even when we try to fix the situation, because our motives are not often pure and we are filled with pride that makes us stumble. It’s a very complicated and complex earth and task, too, like a lot of situations we or other people create. More often than not, tricky to repair. And is it possible to really love the earth if you despise its Creator? I could get more excited about Creation Day.

“This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” It was a good day for that here, and I thought about Earth Day more than usual because I walked around outside taking pictures of some things sprouting out of the ground, the earth. Dirt Day would get me excited, too, I bet.

This is our lonely — so far — foxglove. Notice how foxglove has love in it? They are the loveliest, I think. In many places in Northern California they self-sow, but not here. I planted three last fall, and snails ate at least one of the buds.

I neglected the foxgloves for weeks and when I finally noticed the flower stem it was curving around on the ground. I rescued it and propped it on the fence. Many people who keep Earth Day are trying to rescue the beautiful things God made.

We and the neighbor rescued the fence that divides our yards last week. I had to detach the Cécile Brunner rose from that fence and tie half of it to another fence temporarily. I think it will be o.k. Today I took this picture of one of the roses.

The first California Poppies of the season have come out! They are our state flower, blooming from perennial roots next to a salvia, across the sidewalk from the lavender pincushion flowers.

When I thought about Earth Day, now when it is already tomorrow for most of you, I also remembered this announcement (below) that Kate penned in her childhood. And it’s the most important thing I know on this subject. I hope you had a good (Earth) Day. It was a gift from the Creator.

I like the oatmeal bread better.

church, food and cooking, , , ,


A week ago I put some sourdough sponges to ferment, and on Monday and Tuesday I finished the bread from them. First was the batch made with Manuel’s Rye Sour starter. I made it with whole grain flours and lots of seeds: sesame, black sesame, poppy, sunflower, and pumpkin. Did I leave anything out? I had a vision of a nourishing lenten bread.

Seeded Sourdough

The next day I was on the Communion bread team at church, and that morning we produced the most gorgeous “lambs,” but I didn’t have my camera, so I will show you a photo of one from the past. Ours this week were much browner and more evenly browned, having baked in the new convection oven.

It was at church I took these photos of wisteria later in the week. It surrounds the courtyard where the fountain was actually working that day.

As soon as I got home Tuesday I began to finish up the other dough, made with the pineapple starter. (Of course it has no pineapple flavor remaining.) I had decided to make that batch heavy on oatmeal and had added several cups of rolled oats to the sponge the day before.

Both the breads came out pretty well — but I have decided to end my Sourdough Experiments. I think the natural yeasts in the air of our town just don’t make a sour flavor that I like. The odd thing is, they are very active and powerful yeasts, compared to the ones where we used to live, which had a more agreeable flavor.  They work nearly as fast as commercial yeast.

The pineapple starter is a bit nicer, so I didn’t throw it out yet, but I keep thinking that I prefer the smell of regular bread in the oven, and out of the toaster. (Perhaps I should try biscuits or pancakes with that starter.) And I like oatmeal bread a lot better with butter in it as well as on it, so considering the small amount of bread we two eat, I may as well just not bother during Lent. I have learned a lot from my experiments. And I think all the bread I’ve been squirreling away in the freezer will do nicely to make grilled cheese sandwiches a few weeks from now.

Sourdough Oatmeal Bread

Addendum: In the old days either Pippin or I would bake 5-loaf batches of un-sour oatmeal bread once or twice a week as our household’s basic bread. It was a more traditional shape of loaf; these loaves are flattish because I haven’t yet worked out how much dough fills my new extra-large loaf pan and it came out a bit short.

I want to become a stronger swimmer.

church, Lent, quotes
A view from our front yard

As a man whose head is under water cannot inhale pure air, so a man whose thoughts are plunged into the cares of this world cannot absorb the sensation of the world to come.

                       ~St. Isaac the Syrian

I’ve definitely had that underwater feeling lately — so I was relieved to take part in a lenten service at church today, one designed to clear the head of transitory concerns. During Communion in the time of Lent, we sing lovely meditative hymns to the words, “O taste and see that the Lord is good.”

Because that world St. Isaac speaks of comes to us in the Eucharist. We breathe the pure and sweet air of the Holy Spirit, a taste of the world to come and tonic to strengthen us for the labors of this world.

Mr. Glad and I have all sorts of busyness on our plates these days, and much of it is of a proper and happy kind, helping and loving people. But there is the other sort, as when one’s computer crashes and requires hours of trouble transporting, repairing, restoring. For me that’s the sensation of drudgery.

There’s the fence that falls down and needs replacing, which means hours of talking to the neighbor and the lumber store, and more hours actually tearing out the old and putting in the new. This kind of work often blends into another: The old bodies of us humans wear out and need more frequent maintenance, trips to the chiropractor or pharmacy.

It’s helpful that the melody of the “taste and see” hymns stick in my mind pretty well, so I can remember and come up for a gulp of that Air of Life, Sweet Jesus. I may not be walking on water, but I’m not drowning.

Sweet Dreams and Blue Eyes

agriculture, my garden, nature, , , ,

I relived one of the literally sweetest experiences of my childhood yesterday and I didn’t even have to journey the five hours back “home” to the groves my father used to tend so lovingly. We Glad gardeners visited a local nursery just to get one replacement plant for our project of last fall.

navel oranges in bloom

We were looking for a helianthemum, and they are in the area in back of the store, so we passed through the breezeway and were suddenly enveloped, not in a breeze but in a stillness heavy with fruit and flowers.

Overlapping rows of pots containing various citrus trees, including many oranges and mandarins, lined the alley and were exhaling their essence into that space. For me it was a whiff of the deep past, springtimes slowed down to a dream — orange trees taking their sweet time and confusing the mind, because isn’t springtime when everything and everyone is waking up and getting busy…?… but this air is like a drug that makes me want to lie on the grass and let my eyelids droop.

grapefruit and orange trees side-by-side

Our house was surrounded on all sides by orange trees, so that for many weeks every year we walked around in our own tropical island of scent. Can you imagine living in that house and being allergic to orange blossoms? Two family members were — and I pity them mightily, because orange blossoms are one of the happiest things in the data bank of my senses.

My husband and I had only a few minutes to find our plant, so I couldn’t linger, I quickly pushed on through to the shelves of California native plants and other drought-tolerant species. Our first choice wasn’t there, but we found this:

I had luckily forgotten my Western Garden Book in the car so I had to make two more passes through the little paradise to retrieve it. Then we read a bit together about the above plant and some other offerings.

In the end we did decide on this dear low-growing plant, a newish species of Blue-eyed Grass, developed from a California native, and sufficiently xerophytic for our needs. I remember my friend May showing me one of these wildflowers decades ago as we hiked in the Coast Ranges of our state. They aren’t really grasses but are actually in the Iris family, which seems obvious now that I know it.

new planting last October

Except for the one that died, all the plants of our project shown at right are bigger now, but there’s still a lot of space to be filled in.

I can’t settle on which is more fun as a name, Sisyrinchium or Blue-eyed Grass. This is the first we’ve ever had them in our yard, and as you can see, we bought two, because they are small. I planted them tonight, where a blue penstemon, actually two, one after the other, had died last year. I hope to have nice photos of them and the whole bed to show in the future.


And before the citrus bloom is past I will return to that nursery when I have time enough time to wander. I’ll consider the snapdragons in the back, and then the perennials in the front, and I’ll go back and forth through the citrus tree lane at least a few times. I’ll walk slowly each time past the mandarins and Meyer lemons and orange trees and sip my sweet daydream.