Over a year ago I had to give up gardening at church. That branch of my life had to be pruned out so that other things had room to grow. But I miss the contact with the earth and growing things on the big property, and all the assortment of flora, some of them my own plantings and most of them friends in whom I’ve invested time and attention. So after Bridegroom Matins this morning I lingered and took some pictures while the light was still gentle.
native iris
cistus
The service and the flowers were certainly the highlight of my day. After that, I had planned to spend time working in my own garden, but instead, grueling computer confusion demanded all of the patience and peace I could find.
I never stepped outside again until evening when Mr. Glad and I took a slow walk. It was a great boon to get into the air and away from electronics, and with someone I love who loves the outdoors, too, and I wished I had my camera along then — or better yet, a magic bottle in which to capture the smell of honeysuckle and other sweets.
It’s nice that this evening I can look at images of those morning flowers, which seem now to be getting ready to deck a bridal chamber.
Change is a measure of time and, in the autumn, time seems speeded up. What was is not and never again will be; what is is change. -Edwin Teale
I went out into the misty autumn morning to find fine threads laced in and out among flower petals and fence rails.
The only sun was in the form of letters labeling the Sunsugar tomato.
Unless you count the few remaining mini-globes of golden fruit.
But in the midst of leaves turning brown, under skies cast over with grey, the last flowers were even more obvious in their brilliance. So I gave them the attention they wanted.
A few Cécile Brunner roses had come out, a few miniature roses….
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But the salvia blooms are in the thousands. The party they seem to be celebrating has clearly just begun.
Yesterday I got up on the wrong side of the bed. A cup of tea seemed to be in order, and when I saw the special tea blend from Germany, “Perfect World,” I knew it was the right morning to open that package.
There is no ingredients list. I sprinkled some leaves out on a plate to give it a look. There are chamomile flowers there, I can see that much.
I poured boiling water over the herbs in a measuring cup, and brewed it what turned out to be too weakly. After a few minutes I put the pretty liquid in a pretty teacup for beauty’s sake. That wasn’t enough tea to direct my mood in any way. I’ll have to try it another time, stronger and in a big mug.
Today I woke up again. Almost before I figured out what side to get out on, my dear, sweet-hearted, only-beloved husband brought me flowers. It’s been a nearly perfect day so far.
When Mr. Glad and I drove north to visit some of our children and grandchildren last week, I didn’t expect to bring home anything to blog about. After all, I have posted plenty of pictures of these places before, and we weren’t planning any outings beyond the immediate neighborhoods.
BUT we hadn’t seen this part of the country at exactly this time of year, and nature with all its surprises called out from every direction, “Look at me! Have you ever seen anything like this before?” No, I’m sure I hadn’t!
We stayed at Pippin’s homestead and were shown around by Scout who rarely tires of exploring and at the same time chatting with himself and/or whoever is around about every discovery.
Some things we took notice of together were the birches in the back yard, and what I think was a moth working the lilacs. I took a long movie of the whirring creature but in it his wings are still moving too fast to see clearly.
The Squaw Carpet I’d seen at other seasons of the year was in bloom this time. It was covered with pine needles, in the forest just outside the back yard.
Bright Walls of Water are protecting the tomatoes from frost, a prudent precaution since it snowed here as recently as the day before we arrived.
In the front yard next to the road I found this lovely vine blooming. I had never seen one before, but a little research tells me that it’s a pink honeysuckle.
For Memorial Day we drove farther north to Pathfinder’s home in southern Oregon. Right now they are having an unofficial flower show all over town, featuring rhododendrons and roses.
Mardi Gras
My favorite was in their back yard, a prolific yellow rose with the sweetest scent. I wanted to set my chair up close and drink deeply.
Golden Celebration
Something like a broom ground cover was definitely more constant in its brilliance than the sun was that partly cloudy day.
Back at the cousins’ place, there was a wealth of (also yellow) equipment to work with, and a dog to peek in on.
The big kids were playing with Scout, or playing a card game with Uncle Professor, or watching some grown-up boys practice their knot-tying. We grown-up girls kept the food bowls full and did a fair amount of rose-smelling. I was introduced to Annie’s new doll Elizabeth (for whom I have not yet sewn any clothes).
I had made some cookies for the occasion (recipe below), which got scarfed up during the appetizer course. That was a good thing, because Auntie Iris had prepared a dessert finale for our event that included brownies, and an ice-cream cake designed to please the littlest member of the family.
All present seemed to love these cookies that Pippin planned and I baked, with a little Scoutish help. I remembered just in time to take a picture, when all but four had been eaten.
Chewy Lemon Cookies
about 4 dozen
1 cup (salted) butter, softened 1 3/4 cup sugar 1 teaspoon vanilla 2 eggs 4-5 teaspoons lemon zest 4 tablespoons fresh lemon juice 1/2 teaspoon salt 1/2 teaspoon baking powder 1/4 teaspoons baking soda 3 cups all-purpose flour about 1 cup powdered sugar for rolling
Cream butter and sugar until light. Add vanilla, egg, zest and juice and beat well again. Mix in all the dry ingredients except the powdered sugar.
Put the powdered sugar in a bowl. Break off heaping-teaspoon-size pieces of the dough and roll into balls, then roll the balls in the powdered sugar and place on lightly-greased baking sheets. They will be flattish.
Bake at 350° for 10-11 minutes, until starting to brown on the bottom edges. If you use insulated cookie sheets they may not brown very much but they should still be chewy. Cool on racks.
When Mr. Glad and I drove north to visit some of our children and grandchildren last week, I didn’t expect to bring home anything to blog about. After all, I have posted plenty of pictures of these places before, and we weren’t planning any outings beyond the immediate neighborhoods.
Some things we took notice of together were the birches in the back yard, and what I think was a moth working the lilacs. I took a long movie of the whirring creature but in it his wings are still moving too fast to see clearly.
