Have you seen this Monty Python movie? This character was our first pet rabbit.
Here’s a photo of the celebrity in our family — the Beast Like No Other, acting protective of his friend Tiny. In reality, this big bunny is the mellowist, most relaxed rabbit around. He uses his big teeth only to gnaw on carrots and broccoli.
That’s Tiny Bunny pushing his little face in the way so he can be in the picture, too. Both of these furry sweeties made awesome memories at the O.K. Chorale.
I saw this in a post discussing a change in Colorado law allowing residents to harvest rainwater. Prior to the law’s passing, setting up rain barrels like mine was illegal. Illegal? Yes. The Water Police would have come over and ordered me to disconnect my big barrels that collect water every time it rains.
At first, it’s illogical, thinking that conserving water would be not only discouraged, but outlawed. The old laws, however, were written for a time when the average citizen didn’t collect and reuse water. The old laws managed water rights for farmers and ranchers, people making their living off the land. The original legislation made sure the folks who needed large quantities of water for their crops and their livestock would have it and not have to fight their neighbors over every drop.
But now, in an era where individuals are concerned about water – saving water, reusing water, even treating water for household use – the old laws no longer make sense.
I’m fortunate to live in a region where water is relatively plentiful and my rain barrels are encouraged, not outlawed. It’s still important to conserve. I’m glad it’s spring, at long last, and I’m glad to see rain in the forecast sometime this week. I’ve been planting and watering, leaving the barrels ready for refilling.
Done: lettuce planted, parsley planted, zucchini planted. Root crops (carrots, parsnips, radishes, a few turnips) planted.
In seedling form: broccoli, tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, peppers, marigolds.
Still on the to-do list: put fence up, plant beans and peas, transplant seedlings.
Is that all? Not by a long shot, I’m sure. Give me time, I’ll think of more.
Preparing for the landscapers who are coming to replace my lawn with perennial flowers has its own to-do list. Let’s see: it starts with Dig Up Daffodil and Tulip bulbs. What am I doing inside watching DIY TV? There’s a lot to do outside!
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Anyone who has converted a patch of lawn to a garden knows the strength and tenacity of grass roots. I fight back the grass roots in my gardens, but in real life, I’m part of a grass roots effort to get like-minded people elected to public office.
Yesterday a young person came to our door. He was carrying a clipboard, so I thought “Aha. Canvassing. I wonder which candidate he represents?” I sent Chuck to the door; it was his turn, really. The last time I met a canvasser on my porch, our Wisconsin presidential primary was coming up and the young woman was supporting Bernie Sanders. We talked for a little while, and I reminisced a bit about volunteering in support of President Obama in 2008 and 2012. Then I turned the topic a little bit, bringing it back to the current election. I hear you, readers. You’re thinking, “What? Daisy, the young volunteer on the porch was the one doing the canvassing, wasn’t she? What do you mean you turned the topic? That was her job!”
Yep. Uh-huh. Yours truly has had plenty of training and practice in messaging, staying on message, and bringing a conversation to an angle that benefits my candidate or my cause. By the time the young woman left my porch, making her entries into the database on her phone (new wrinkle this election), I had talked her into supporting Hillary Clinton. She was probably wondering, “What just happened there?”
Back to the most recent clipboard bearing youth at our doorbell. Chuck chatted for a few seconds and then sent the young man on his way. He wasn’t canvassing for a candidate, Democrat or Republican. He represented College Painters. We’re planning siding, so we didn’t hire him or his organization. I guess the lesson learned from this encounter is Never Assume Anything.
I still would have worked on convincing him to vote for Hillary.
If you look closely, you can see some stubborn grass roots in the foreground. The close-up is a volunteer that sprouted this spring. I haven’t planted anything in this area – yet.
This looks familiar.
I kept thinking, “They’re not carrots. They’re not radishes. Parsnips?”
I did a little research online. The foliage certainly looks like parsnips. But how?
I planted carrots and parsnips in that area last year. Most likely, a handful of seeds didn’t germinate last spring. After hibernating through a warm and wet winter, the seeds were ready to burst.
And burst they did. Here’s one I pulled up to test the theory.
Parsnip. Indeed.
I’m planning to plant tomatoes there. Supposedly tomatoes and carrots are good companions; maybe parsnips will do well with my tomatoes, too.
We’ve decided not to call it “leftovers” when I empty the fridge of various foodstuffs and we have it for supper. It’s “tapas.”
I’m pleasantly surprised at how an hour or two outdoors can change my mood. I’m smiling, relaxing, taking a break, and I’m smiling. Spontaneously. For no reason other than I feel happy and content.
I’ve joked (sort of) that I should take my blood pressure before and after working outside or gardening. Maybe this is the weekend for that experiment.
Gardening and outside are not always the same thing, at least in Wisconsin’s early spring season. I have started a lot of seeds indoors – tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, jalapeno peppers, zucchini, broccoli, a few herbs…something about the smell of dirt makes it a rather Zen experience, even indoors.
April is a challenging month – a survival month, much like January. April, however, has the advantage of outdoor time. Planting a garden, be it flowers or fruits or vegetables, is an investment in hope. Planting illustrates faith that the future looks good. Be quiet; I’m not in a survivalist prepper mood today.
A true sign of spring: Chuck gets out the grill, starts up the charcoal, and cooks! On this night, he cooked supper and enough planned overs to take us through at least two more days. Gotta love planned-overs.
Grilling season!
Seedlings catching some sun!
The seedlings get to go outside on a field trip! They soak up some real sun, as opposed to the grow lights, and strengthen their stems in the breeze.
I’m not sure if I like these little starter pots or not. They’re a good size for exactly one seed each, but they really dry out fast. I’ll reserve judgement until planting time comes around.
Since I took this picture, the temperatures have gone colder. The little pots might not get another field trip until Saturday or Sunday – or later.
Years ago, when I successfully canned my first batches of jams, I was warned. “Jam is the gateway drug for canning. You’ll never be able to stop.”
It’s true. My home-canned inventory grows every year. Part of the joy of canning is getting downstairs to bring up a jar of cherry-rhubarb jam or home-grown salsa instead of writing it on the list and shopping for it. Another pleasure in the canning world is walking down the grocery store aisle and thinking, “I don’t need to buy that. I make my own.”
Let’s see. I had that thought as I walked past…
Meanwhile, I kept distracting myself from the actual shopping trip by thinking about spring and summer. Organic more expensive? I’ll grow it in the backyard. No problem. Chuck getting picky about breads? I’ll make some in the bread machine. He’ll eat it. What kind of ice cream should I make? Well, I still have a few strawberries in the freezer and a small amount of cherry concentrate. This could be delicious.
On further review, the rhubarb is already coming up, and I have quite a bit in the freezer. I must find a way to barter this rhubarb for something I don’t have. Ideas, readers? What do you do with too much rhubarb? And furthermore, was jam the gateway drug for you?
Questions. I have questions.
Where’s the NFL? If I’m stuck inside on a Sunday afternoon, I want football.
NASCAR! Amigo likes NASCAR. The announcers just said, “This isn’t Richmond, this is I-95!” Oh, there are times the track looks a lot like I-94 around Milwaukee.
Why does the remote control continually fall into the couch behind Amigo? No, don’t answer that.
Trent, the last American Idol, really rocked the National Anthem. He wowed the crowd – and he wowed us. That’s a statement, not a question.
Which Mountain Dew is better: Baja Blast or Pitch Black? And truly, who cares?
How are the Milwaukee Brewers doing this afternoon? Is the roof open?
How many school days are left until summer?
Can I start a few more seeds indoors? Maybe peas or beans?
Why are so few of the marigold seeds coming up?
Should I consider raising monarch butterflies?
Most of these questions have no answers. Some have answers that don’t really matter. With that in mind, I think I’ll hit “Post” and watch the race with Amigo. Boogity Boogity Boogity!