bulb-tastic
Never before have I found myself at Target at 9:39am. Now *that’s* a first. But this is for all you indoor bulb-forcers or come on first-timers (!): pick up this pre-packaged Smith & Hawken bulb forcing kit for less than 5 bones. Did you hear that? Amaryllis usually cost at least $12 bucks sometimes more and I got these babies for $2.50 each. Sure, it’s prepackaged, not to mention prepackaged by THE big box garden monster but when the going gets rough mama wants what she wants and that is a cost savin’ deal. Call it a double standard. Or a balanced approach to purchasing.
Don’t like the red container? You know the word: donate or find another creative use. I think I will use ours as a much needed new kitchen crock to hold tongs and such.
Now go and get! Pick up a little bit of garden for an ounce of your green.
“You are always writing,” my friend Morgan said to me, “even if you are not literally writing.” These were words I needed to hear when I was struggling to put pen to paper. Or rather, fingers to the computer keys. I hold those words dear and found myself saying the same thing to another friend of mine yesterday as we walked with our babies through one of Seattle’s prettiest neighborhoods, admiring the houses but mostly the frost that gave these neighborhood gardens a special sparkle. She spies a witch hazel beckoning its spidery blooms: “Isn’t it a little early for a witch hazel?” Dakota pondered. It’s not. But we both were surprised to find ourselves deep in December and winter and planning for spring, waiting for our heirloom seed catalogs to arrive in the mail. You can order online but it gives me something to look forward to besides bills bills bills. Besides, doesn’t curling up on the couch with a catalog sound cozy?
Although we may not literally be gardening right now, especially with the temperatures we’ve seen these past couple of days, we CAN still garden in other ways: we can evaluate our garden’s bones, make plant and seed wish lists, find friends to share seeds with (thanks, Dakota), gain inspiration from garden books (I just picked up 3 at the library), and continue forcing those bulbs indoors (amaryllis, paperwhites, hyacinths). Call it low-impact gardening.
At least this is how I am gardening these days. Which means I can say that I gardened today, the last day of 2010 and I plan on gardening more in 2011. Tomorrow in fact.
Cheers!
Baby asleep on my lap. Tree is lit. Paperwhites blooming. Panettone Bread Pudding in the oven. Gifts to be given and received.
ode to jessie. thx for de-mystifying sushi-making.
A family who eats together stays together. Who first said that? I like it. But I think I would like it to apply to a broader definition of family – that is friends. Or “families by choice” some say. I feel blessed to have both types of families in my life, and the other night we had our dear family-by-choice-friends Amanda and Joe and their sons Lincoln and Ozzie over for what will now be a new holiday tradition for us both: sushi making and eating before we part ways to our respective other “families” for the official holiday weekend.
Tradition. Tis the season for it. And this year I find myself asking pretty much everyone with exception to those I do not know by name, “What are your holiday traditions?” I grew up with many traditions, many of which I hope to continue with Milo – like gathering with loved ones for Christmas Eve Chili Dinner. My mother’s mother started this I think and my mother and her sisters also choose to continue the thread.
It seems like the holidays are the only time of year where “no change” is set apart as sacred. My mom and I were reminiscing the other day about the year that she and my aunt gave us what we kids wanted on Christmas Eve – enchiladas. Big mistake. Not that the enchiladas weren’t delish but it left us still hungry. This deviation taught us youngins’ something about tradition. That is, it isn’t necessarily about the food but about a deeper nourishment that takes place by engaging in an event that has become historical and habitual.
Tradition feeds our spirits.
I love to hear how things become tradition. They don’t always develop intentionally (often traditions “happen” to us) but it seems that it has something to do with the experience of delight or better yet – joy. Thus our desire to re-create and live it anew.
A family who eats together stays together. We create traditions, sure. But traditions create us.
Milo, you will have chili this year and for years to come I imagine. Sushi too I think with one or more of our families. But I look forward to be surprised at what develops between this here family of three. Your very presence may usher us into a new world of tradition entirely. Let the magic begin.
Christmas tins,
Paperwhites,
Ornaments for two bucks,
Tinseled tree,
A new stocking to fill (only helping St. Nick) and traditions to create that knit us together as a family.
so crafty.
Freedom is not always freeing if you ask me. Too many choices can overwhelm. Again, for me. So, this holiday season I decided to narrow my scope and count on my neighborhood (Greenwood in the house!) to help me with my holiday shopping. Not only did I get to know some cheerful, creative and kind shop owners, the best part was that I was done in a day’s time. A DAY. Which freed me up to sing Christmas carols to Milo around the Christmas tree, drink my own eggnog lattes (so much cheaper and enjoyable in one of your own ceramic mugs) and channel my inner crafter.
These cards a 5 year old could make. Which is why they turned out to be a success in my book. Just my skill level. I am a wanna be crafter. I think about crafts or things homemade more than I create them myself. This is do in large part to having little to no threshold when it comes to tolerating frustration, which speaks to my inner toddler. Yet I like to think if I surround myself with creative people that some of their glitter will rub off on little ol’ me.
Sure. We “can make that!” we declare as we pick up that stylishly felted floral broach adorned with just enough vintage buttons that make you bust open your pocketbook or trot down to the local craft store to gather the supplies. But the difference between me and them is that they really can and I can’t. I just like to think so. Which is why I prefer to think about making that hand knit stocking or stitching that pretty embroidery pattern rather than try. Sustains the comforting illusion that I can make anything (which is not true of course but it feels good to think so).
-TRANSITION-
Let me get back to shopping. Shopping local, that is. We live in an age and culture that buys (sigh) their values I realize so if you want more time with your families or friends, time to bake cookies, do laundry or to channel your inner crafter I recommend just walking out your front door. Makes for a more meaningful gift giving experience. Not to mention, you get to interact with another human being who lives and breathes as you do and is trying jut as you do to sustain and support themselves. It’s more work than filling up your electronic shopping cart and clicking “pay now” in the upper right hand corner of your computer screen but worth the investment.
Here were my stops:
Sasquatch Studios – LOVE! Local art, homewares, jewelry, delicious children’s clothes, and last Thursday you guys could have scored a free beer from Park Pub and 15% off the merch.
Emma Jeans Antiques – I spent at least half an hour learning about the early jazz scene in Seattle at EJ’s at no extra charge. And talk about treasures…
Top Ten Toys - Fun for the whole family. I wanted to buy Milo (I mean have Santa get Milo) all of those marionettes. They aren’t that creepy.
Wouldn’t it be swell if I could make all of my Christmas gifts? Sure. I value the homemade but there is something to be said for being honest about one’s limitations. As well as those falsely perceived ones.
New Year’s Resolution: Try more. Think less.
Modern. Child-friendly. Low-maintenance. Food.
This was my last planting project before Seattle’s “Arctic Blast” – come on, REALLY?! Arctic Blast?
Anyhow, I think the finery of this project belongs to Fresh Digs. Sacred Spaces was originally going install an assortment of HUGE containers to grow mostly edibles for the two adult cooks of the house and 2 very small sous chefs ages 3.5 and almost 5 but as projects go, we began to think outside the box. That’s when I was referred to Chris, owner/designer of Fresh Digs and boy are we super thrilled with these custom new modern raised planters. The install was done by Terrain.
I always recommend mixing in some evergreen perennials with your veggies so you have some year-round interest. Chris's design concept included the integration of the owner's coveted old Orange Bowl stadium seats which were rescued from the state of Florida. The garden seats at least 8. Doesn't that soil look enticing?
So although we got a late start in planting for fall veggies we did manage to get some of the foundational plantings in: hidcote lavender, native huckleberry, hebe mckeanii, and cornus midwinter fire. Although one of the smaller shrub varieties, these dogwoods might get a little large but their shocking twigs in winter was a sure appeal. Come spring, these beds will be chomping at the bit to get some long awaited arugula, radishes, and peas (by President’s Day of course) in their nutritious soil.
All wood is ipe. I just learned how to correctly spell it. This here is a bench seat with storage. Huckleberry planted behind to create an appealing evergreen screen.
Can you believe these colors exist in nature? I think I took at least ten photos of just the chard. Pretty to look at and tasty to eat sauteed with a little garlic and olive oil. Nothing fancy.
Does Kent count? Just wanted to give a shout out to my FAVORITE farmer’s market. No, not Ballard. Carpinito Brothers off Central Ave. I was salivating last week over all of the beautiful fall veggies. And even more so over the prices. Dirt cheap and delicious. I had to just say no after grabbing my pile of butternut squash, bundle of beets and one handful of chard. I had already grabbed a heap of daffodil bulbs at a generous discount. I love you collard greens. I love you too kale. But this time its chard’s turn. I couldn’t resist those colors.
How did I happen on such a place you ask? Well once upon a time I found myself doing a little office work for a non-profit in those whereabouts. I realize that for some of you out there Kent is far from a destination (sorry Kenters) but to my surprise, on my occasional walks during lunch I discovered a few gems in the hood: bustling cafes, antique and thrift stores, a fabulous yarn store (gone now unfortunately), a King County Library (hooray!), and this great little nursery-fresh produce-spot called Carpinito Brothers. I visit these brothers every season and sometimes make my trip complete by swinging by Ikea for some Swedish fish on the way home. It makes for a nice day.
Spring and summer Carpinito Bros. never fails to hook me up with a great selection of annuals to choose from for my clients. At the end of summer I also scored a dwarf apple tree for $10. That was for me. Come fall it’s all about squash, spring bulbs, and local veggies. They also source bulk compost, bark and soil mixes. Come December? Christmas trees my friends.
Carpinito’s isn’t your Swanson’s. But it also isn’t your Home Depot. It’s its own: unpretentious, friendly, and resourceful. It also hasn’t changed in years it seems. Which is the source of its charm. I don’t know about you but I like buying my geraniums and butternut squash alongside those who have been buying them at Carpinito Brothers for years. And I mean years. Before email (and blogs). Before shop local. Before eat local. When local was all there was and organic was considered a way of life, not some patented product.
I am thankful for you Carpinitos.
Peanut Butter Bundt Cake before chocolate glaze.
We have been welcomed into the world of “firsts.” As proud new parents it’s all the rave. First coo. First laugh. First grab. It’s like heaven on earth to watch. Everything’s new for this little being. We parents on pins and needles to witness the small as monumental.
At the same time Milo has been “taking it all in” I have been also challenging myself to have some of my own firsts. (Notwithstanding the big fat first of being a parent; no wonder new parents require just as much sleep as their new little ones. Everything is new for us too). I am talking intentional firsts. Perhaps it’s a shame we adults (can I lump you in with me here so I feel less alone?) forget to have them or pursue them for that matter. Our routines and preferences help us structure our life (form – there it is again) yet they can also keep us from learning something new about ourselves and others, the world. It doesn’t even have to be big. I’m talking small, Milo-sized firsts.
This morning I sat in a different chair in our dining nook. That was a first. I didn’t realize how BORED I was sitting in the same seat with the same view of our living room. So me and Milo settled into our new seat accompanied by a pretty magazine and beverage and it actually changed my perspective of things. I now don’t see the need to re-arrange my living room. Nice.
I bet you there are dozens of firsts that happen to us everyday. The only difference being the absence of the uber-enthusiastic parent in our back pockets to cheer us on and simply delight in these small steps of newness we take. We should claim these, no? I am not sure why but part of me thinks it’s important.
Do you remember the thrill or disgust of your first kiss? The first time you grew and devoured your first vegetable? The first time you…
I did make a bundt cake a couple of weeks ago. That was a first too. Not to toot my own horn. (toot)
Bake a pie crust.
Label the perennials I am dividing from our garden with real labels, not mental ones.
Listen to Christmas music before Thanksgiving because if I’m feelin’ it, why not? It is Milo’s first Christmas.
“Like all gardeners, I was learning that plots are more easily maintained when set apart in some way, whether by hedges, paths, or walls….”
- Anne D. LeClaire from her book Listening Below the Noise
Form and dynamic. I was introduced to these terms my first year of seminary thanks to 20th century theologian Paul Tillich. It’s kind of abstract but here it goes. Form (that is, shape) without dynamic (think spirit, energy, creativity) is dead, lifeless. The result: outdated (and at its worst) irrelevant and meaningless modes of living and relating. Dusty and dry formality. Yet dynamic without form is chaos. There exists an essential tension between the two. We need both you might say. Both-And.
Paul’s domain was theology and philosophy. But I think “form and dynamic” also applies to other areas of our lives. Like the garden. Hedges, paths and walls are forms in which our beloved flora depend, design-wise that is. If we really want to see those delicate astrantia blooms or dramatic serrated edge to that melianthus we need some bones to set them off. Garden bones being the equivalent to Tillich’s form. And foliage flair? Yes. Together now -”dynamic.” A stretch perhaps.
Hedging plants are important in the garden. They conceal but also reveal. Like paths and other structures in the landscape they also define a space. When planted hedges can create a sense of welcome or the very opposite – exclude in its aim to keep unwanted critters away or nosy neighbors. Privacy via the hedge doesn’t necessarily mean malicious rejection but perhaps is for some more of a statement of value; the enclosed being worth protecting. Hedges are Both-And too.
On our (me and milo’s) self-directed garden tours I have been obsessed with hedges. See, on the west side of our property which spans the length of our house we have about a 5 foot wide space from the edge of our house to an extremely exposed fence that really needs some softening or covering. I had plans to plant a narrow perennial border against its orange-hued stained slats (per previous owner) but I have concluded that no matter how much flower (all dynamic) I fool myself into planting I will not achieve my desired effect: a visually clean, clear semi-permeable boundary that creates a little bit of privacy (our neighbors are not nosy but GREAT), meanwhile offering some green low-maintenance lushness. I need me some form.
But I refuse arborvitae. With a vengeance.
Evergreen huckleberry? Maybe.
Fall is a great time to evaluate your garden forms. Trees defoliate. Perennials die back in preparation for next spring’s uprising. Over these next few months we will be really able to SEE our gardens and evaluate its current ability to enclose, invite, keep out, protect. Gardens are easier to maintain when they are set apart in some way. So are our lives. We can’t do it all. We say no. We erect our own interior hedges but in some cases we do this not to exclude but to preserve that which we hold especially dear – our deepest selves. That I think is definitely worth protecting.