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 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.
by jphilo | Feb 20, 2008 | Daily Life
The dirty asparagus deed is done. The omelet, stuffed with Swiss cheese and imported asparagus trucked in from who knows where, has been made. At least the stuff was on sale for $1.99 a bunch.
The sun is shining so I had plenty of natural light for the food photo shoot. (It is so hard to get vegetables to lick their lips and gaze sexily at the camera so I need every advantage possible.) The least appealing and therefore most honest picture is shown above. The one for the magazine, with a background of perky looking houseplants in brightly colored pots, make the omelet look much too nice. (If you want to see that photo, you’ll have to wait for the April issue of Facets. When it comes out, I’ll add a link to it.)
For now, the omelet is covered with plastic wrap, waiting in the refrigerator for Hiram. He volunteered to eat it. All I have to do now is unload the remainder of the bunch of asparagus on my mom. Then she’ll call Hiram and ask him to come to over for supper. They’ll have creamed asparagus with ham on toast, and they’ll talk about what a picky eater I am.
I don’t even care. So far as I’m concerned, the whole asparagus dilemma is resolved. My photo of fake Iowa asparagus is good enough to perpetrate the necessary hoax. The recipe column makes asparagus sound delicious, even though I lied through my teeth to make that happen. And the payment for these grievous sins is an evening off while someone else fixes supper for my husband.
Sometimes, crime does pay.
