by jphilo | Jun 24, 2008 | Daily Life
Hiram and I planted a candy-striped clematis years ago, when the kids were little. But tje nearby black walnut trees grew along with the clematis. The climbing flower never did as well as we’d hoped as the spot grew shadier, so two or three years ago we moved it. For a while it didn’t do much growing, at least not that we could see. This year, however, it has bloomed copiously for almost three weeks, even though the weather’s been cool and wet.
This morning two new blossoms greeted me when I returned from my walk. Earlier, I had watched two Baltimore orioles, brilliantly marked, fuss on the fence by a cornfield. They were arguing about who got to perch where and for how long. They traded places with one another constantly, each lifting of their wings favoring me with another blazing flash of orange and black. Between the beauty of orioles, who have lived along our gravel road for only the past few years, and the clematis which waited a long time to show its true colors, I felt deeply blessed.
Tomorrow I go to Grand Rapids, Michigan for a speaking seminar. While I’m there, I’ll stay with a published author who is a good friend and mentor. She wants to introduce me to one of her publishers and several other authors. I also will visit the Discovery House Publishers office, where my book has been accepted. They’re even taking me out to dinner.
Some days I pinch myself and wonder if this trip is happening. Is my writing, which I’ve been tending for years, about to bear fruit? Is God going to say this is the year things will take off? Thanks to a couple Baltimore orioles and a candy-striped clematis, I’m prepared to wait for his answers. And whatever the answer is, I will remain deeply blessed.
by jphilo | May 6, 2008 | Daily Life
Whew! Since yesterday, spring’s been hurtling forward at breakneck speed. It’s left me a bit breathless, unsure of which beautiful sight to share with you today. Would you like to see the redbud trees in our neighbor’s ravine or the goldfinches in the tree? Or maybe the one perched on the fence by our driveway?
Finally, I settled on the magnolia. You saw gray pictures of the swelling buds weeks ago and endured my worry over the possibility of frost damage last week. To my great joy, most of the buds survived. Our bush/tree (we’ve still not settled that disagreement) is loaded with blossoms. Magnolia trees all around town are a frenzy of blooms this week, stunning and lush, worth eleven months of waiting and the fear of frost.
This spring day is so spectacular, I’m hanging the wash on the line as an excuse to spend more time soaking up sunshine. I harvested a few more stalks of asparagus. Enough, Mom says, to make creamed ham and asparagus on toast for her and Hiram tonight. She even offered to make something different for me.
Spring’s been a wild ride these last few days. I’m determined to enjoy every minute of it.
by jphilo | May 2, 2008 | Daily Life
A certain percentage of this blog’s readers are vegetable activists. If you’ve read their comments in defense of asparagus, you know what I mean. So you may be thinking I took this picture of emergent asparagus in order to curry the favor of this small but very vocal minority. That’s simply not true.
I took this picture because I figured someday I may write another recipe column about asparagus. Most of the column will be a hoax. The recipe will be tested months in advance with alien asparagus, beamed in from who knows where. And I’ll be lying through my teeth about how delicious asparagus is. The least I can do is use a my own, personal file photo of Iowa grown asparagus.
Now you know why I was prone on the dewy grass in our yard early yesterday morning, camera in hand. I was not pandering to vegetable activists. I was pursuing truth and justice, at any price.
And if anyone knows how to get grass stains out of sweat pants, please contact me immediately.
by jphilo | Apr 28, 2008 | Daily Life
The weather reports are full of frost warnings for tonight, one day after the average last frost date for our part of the state. But I’m not complaining. No, no, no, definitely not. Never. Not me. No way.
But I’m feeling so sorry for the two poor deer who wandered across our lawn this morning. Cold, shivering little creatures, longing for spring was written all over their frozen faces. I felt so sorry for them I almost cried. But I regained control and grabbed my camera so I could take a picture of their tundra-weary faces through the picture window in the living room.
Maybe you won’t believe this, but I’m even feeling a little sorry for the asparagus. A whole passel of stalks emerged over the weekend, and they could get their tender tips nipped but good tonight. What a loss.
My greatest concern is for the magnolia. This morning I asked Hiram if we could cover the bush tonight and save the blossoms, which have been on hold for the better part of a week now, waiting to for one warm day in a row. He looked at me with his what-was-I-thinking-when-I-asked-her-to-marry-me look and said, “There’s no way to cover a tree.”
In my mind, the whole issue boils down to a matter of semantics. If he would call it a bush, there would be no problem covering it. If he insists on calling it a tree we’ve got problems. And since he’s the one who has to climb the ladder, me being quite afraid of heights, to cover the top of the bush, we’ve got problems.
There’s the frozen venison on the lawn, the asparagus shivering in its little green boots, semantic squabbles threatening our marriage, and my fear of heights which has rendered me unable to save any magnolia blossoms taller than me.
Good thing I’m not complaining about the weather today. I’ve got enough problems the way it is.
by jphilo | Apr 25, 2008 | Daily Life
I wasn’t planning to post today, but one look at the creek during my morning walk and I changed my mind. After heavy rains the past two nights, our normally quiet little stream is a noisy torrent, overflowing its banks.
My flower beds are saturated so I took advantage of the wet and pulled more dandelions, quack grass and clover. While I weeded I discovered the warm, wet weather has put spring on the fast track. The rhubarb’s bigger than it was yesterday, and the first stalk of asparagus has sprouted. Two days ago, all my clematis looked dead. Today, every one of them is budding. And by afternoon, the magnolia will be blooming.
The forecast for the next few days will put a halt to things pretty darn quick. Our faithful and highly accurate ISU climatologist, Elwynn Taylor, says we’re in for the eighth of the seven arctic blasts predicted for the winter of 2007-2008. So highs will only be in the 50s for several more days.
I’m bummed, but I can handle it unless we get a frost and the magnolia blossoms get nipped. If that happens I may go berserk and rip out the asparagus patch.
Actually, that’s not a bad idea…
by jphilo | Apr 24, 2008 | Daily Life
The rhubarb’s up. The sight of it has me all atwitter. We planted the patch about three years ago, and finally, the plants are established and healthy. So this spring we’ll have rhubarb pie, rhubarb crisp, strawberry-rhubarb jam – I can taste it already.
For all you asparagus lovers, the stuff’s not up yet. But be patient. A few more warm and rainy days and you, along with my husband and mother, will be happy people.
So tell me, why does the sight of rhubarb, and even the prospect of asparagus, make me so happy? Why does it tickle me as much as the museums we saw in Savannah? A walk around my yard makes me giddy. I greet the peonies, tulips and daffodils like long lost friends. The sight of the magnolia blossoms, ready to burst into bloom any day now, leave me breathless. Even pulling dandelions and creeping charlie and quack grass satisfies me more than the delicious southern cooking we tasted.
Our trip was great. I enjoyed every minute spent with my sister and mom. But coming home is even better. And arriving when the rhubarb’s waving – well, that’s a blessing to treasure.
