Here’s hoping that all the fireworks around your home are the literal kind – the kind in the sky. Have a great holiday!
Top row: Chuck, Daisy
Front: Amigo, La Petite
Photo, of course, by the professional photographer in the family, La Petite.
Originally posted in July of 2009
Last week you saw this picture of Amigo enjoying a metal sculpture before we wandered into the restaurant for our Fun Day Friday experience.
Performance Art?
Last week we ended up in the Milwaukee suburbs to visit La Petite. She recommend a nearby Mexican restaurant, and look what we found at the entrance.
“Let’s go in, Mom, I’m hungry.”
Inside, we nibbled on the freshest guacamole I’ve ever tasted.
Crock of Guac – amole.
I sense a theme here. We didn’t set out to eat Mexican this summer, but June Fridays happened that way. Now what? I’ll let you know, readers.
I was watching rummage sales and thrift stores for wind chimes. We have a large wind chime hanging on the front porch. Beside the house, on the shepherd’s crook that’s a little too weak for a large and heavy set, I want to hang smaller wind chimes. I think the sounds would mesh well with the larger one around the corner.
I was on my way to check out at a local estate and vintage store when I picked this up – literally. I picked it up to look at something underneath it, and then heard the bells ring. You know me well, readers. You can guess that I picked it up, bought it, and then hung it from the crook beside the house. Good call, readers. That’s exactly what I did.
Ding, dong merrily!
Around the base you see peas and the ever-expanding mini mums. Oh, and the hose. I really need to do something about the un-aesthetic hose.
We were picking up blueberry and raspberry canes to supplement what we’ve already planted. In the process, we saw some – oh how shall I say it? – creative mark-ups on planters and containers.
The simple box
The simple box with decoration
Pretty, right? And rather simple. Someone took the time to paint the boxes a nice neutral gray, and then they added a few decorative details to one box. Are you ready for the reveal? The price tag? Are you sitting down?
You read that right, people. $50 for the painted box.
I found Chuck as he checked out and showed him the outrageous mark-up on the simple, no doubt inexpensive boxes. He was shocked, too. And on our way to the car…
The popular raised bed, unpainted
These were on sale.
Ouch.
$250? Sale price?!? Give me a break, folks. This must be the new and trendy Container Gardening for Rich People. No one in my social circles would spend $50 on a wood box, much less $250 on a small wooden raised bed. Maybe I’m in the wrong field; I should be painting and repurposing my garage sale finds instead of planting in them. The profit margin would be amazing.
I’ve been struggling with blogging about Charleston. Words just don’t seem to be enough. I’m not Jon Stewart (look him up, he addressed it beautifully), so I’m going to turn to another source to say it for me. Thanks, New Yorker.
Ah, the rhubarb. We’re having a bumper crop already. I used up a little in a strawberry rhubarb ice cream. For my next trick, I modified a classic cake that I usually make with applesauce. In place of the applesauce, I used rhubarb sauce (you guessed that, didn’t you?) and then baked them as cupcakes instead of in the 13 by 9 pan
In case you don’t like to click on links, here’s the updated version.
Depression Cake (named for a historical time period, not the illness)
2 cups strong coffee
2 cups raisins or chopped dates or other dried fruit
½ cup rhubarb sauce
2 cups all-purpose flour (or whole wheat pastry flour, my favorite)
2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. each ground cinnamon, allspice, cloves, and nutmeg
1 cup chopped walnuts or almonds (optional)
Powdered sugar for garnish (or serve with whipped topping)
Preheat oven to 350.
In large saucepan, combine granulated sugar, coffee, raisins, and applesauce. Simmer 10 minutes. In large bowl, blend remaining ingredients, except powdered sugar. Stir raisin mixture into flour mixture. Pour batter into well-greased and floured cupcake pans. Bake at least 20-30 minutes, until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.
Let cool. Sprinkle with powdered sugar or serve with whipped topping.
The original was adapted from a recipe in a California Raisin cookbook put out at least twenty years ago.
I didn’t call it container “gardening” because it feels more like a small to medium sized planter than a garden. No matter what the label, it was fun to put this together. I think the choice of flowers is better this year. It’s bound to grow and fill in and look beautiful. I won’t mention the struggle to keep it upright – you can find that here.
Done – for now.
In a few baskets sitting on the rock garden, I have spinach, radishes, and onions. I will sprinkle all of them with red pepper flakes to discourage small furry creatures from disrupting the goodies. It’s working – sort of.
Laundry hamper, repurposed – with a cat, an attempt to scare away tiny furry creatures.
This will be radishes.
Spinach will come up here – if I can keep up with the red pepper supply.
Some small critter loves garlic, loves it a lot, loves it so much that as soon as the scapes get two inches above the soil, the critter makes a visit and nibbles like crazy.I can rule out Bunnicula, at least. No vampire rabbit could withstand so much fresh garlic.
Actual conversation in car on interstate highway —
Chuck: Is that a tanker that says “Coffee?”
Daisy: I thought it might be a mirage.
Chuck: Wow. Pull up next to it with your mug, turn a spigot, and refill in motion.
Daisy: I have an empty travel mug. It’s at your feet.
We approached the tanker. Here’s what it looked like up close.
“Best Coffee on the Interstate”
Is that a “flammable liquids” sign on the lower left? That’s some strong coffee there, driver. Better add cream and sugar.
It was a hazy morning, with the kind of sky that promises a storm. I decided to accomplish a few short goals that I could abandon quickly and seek shelter when the raindrops arrived.
First, I dragged the rain barrels close to the hose and rinsed them inside and out. Trust me. It makes sense. The barrels had been storing water that drained off a crumbling rooftop, a garage roof with disintegrating shingles. The resulting residue was thin enough to get through the screen and thick enough to stick to the sides of the rain barrels. I hope that the new garage and its new roof will drain more cleanly into my clean(er) rain barrels.
Second, I smashed a batch of shells (seafood, mussels if you must know) and spread them on the soil that will become a raspberry patch once again. There’s both chemistry and environmental science in that decision. Again, trust me.
Third, I decided to work with the papasan planter in the front yard. We’d noticed it tipping, leaning to the right, and it needed help to get upright again. Nobody leans to the right for long in Daisy’s household. Trust me.
It looked like this from the sidewalk.
Close up, it looked even worse.
I wrestled, pulled, pushed, and eventually slid the top off its base. Then I reached for the camera – and I laughed out loud. Any neighbors lucky enough to witness the event surely think…trust me, I probably don’t want to know.
It’s all about that base. Whoa.
I tipped and balanced the planter part until it seemed stable, and then added a cinder block to help keep it in place. The base went out to the curb for Excess Garbage Day. Convenient timing, wasn’t it?
Here’s the result. I must say, I won the wrestling match – this round, anyway.
Done – for now.
I can tell it’s summer because…
I am working the phone, setting up appointments so I don’t have to miss school in the fall.
I am cleaning up messes outside. I’ve planned and planted, but I haven’t had the time to make the yard look neat. Now I do.
I’m enrolling in two graduate classes with which to renew my Wisconsin teaching license. It’s what we do: go to school during June, July, and August in order to renew the license that…you know what, readers? You’ll hear my take on licensing changes, and you’ll hear it soon.
I can tell it’s summer because I’m storing my schoolbooks in a closet along with my fingerless gloves. I’ll bring them back to my desk in the fall.
I can tell it’s summer because I’m making salads for lunch and adding fresh ingredients whenever I can (including radishes, dandelion greens, and whatever edibles are ripe for picking).
I’m also reading gardening blogs and getting a little envious of those who are already harvesting. Daphne’s Dandelions hosts a Harvest Monday group with glorious pictures.
I can tell it’s summer because everywhere I go, I see others enjoying the outdoors. I saw two college-age kids wearing galoshes and stomping in mud on their lunch break from working on a grounds crew.
Meanwhile, I’m catching up on household chores, too. That’s not fun to talk about, though. I’d rather be outside!