My dad was a farmer.

Ahhhh, childhood memories.  My Father was a hothouse rhubarb farmer.  I loved the strong smell of Earth in the dank, dark hot houses; Dad had two on a small ten acre farm just outside the city limits of our small town in Washington State.  Now and then I would help cut, grade and box this beautiful vegetable.  Yes, it's categorized as a vegetable, though it is most often used in the way we use fruit, in desserts, jams, and sauces.  Dad would dump a big box of rhubarb onto a large table and Mom, Aunt Glady and I would take one, whack off both ends (the leaves are highly toxic) and decide the grade:  fancy, extra fancy, or cull.  Mom stood on that hard concrete floor all day while I was at school.  I think back on that now and how hard that must have been on her feet and legs, but nary a complaint was heard.  Dad tells of breaking off a stem from the root ball and eating it then and there.  Pretty acidic little guy for my taste, but Mom made THE BEST rhubarb custard pie you've ever tasted.  Mmmmm, memories.

My father was also the foremost hop dryer on this side of the mountains, maybe in the State.  Another strong and enjoyable sensory memory is the smell of the hop kiln filled with hop dust you could see in the air as the sun rays filled the room.  The floor of the room is slatted and covered with burlap.  Dad would take a hop flower in his hands and crush it determining by the scent if it was ready for baling. 
     Two plants, one red, one green.  Very pretty.  Very unique.  Very important to my childhood. 

Birthday Week

Walked into the kitchen this morning and found this lovely glass swan rose on the island.  "An early birthday gift", my husband told me.  Awwwwwwww.  It helped soften my mood as I brushed my teeth twice, flossed longer than usual and gargled three times in preparation for my visit to the dentist today.  I'm back home now and it was the easiest cleaning visit I've ever had; less pain, shorter time, compliment on the lack of plaque.  I do have to go back some time soon to have four silver fillings replaced with enamel fillings.  Hubbie needs to have a crown first.  Hmmmm, wonder how long it will take to make that appointment? 

An early birthday card arrived from my friend, Marci.  Isn't this the sweetest picture?  I will email her this afternoon to tell her what a great choice it is.



A Peek at Spring

Ahhhhh, finally that warm feeling when you step into the garden and know that Spring is just around the corner.  I noticed several pots that need replanting.  My father was a farmer, but I'm not much of a gardener.  Wish I'd spent more time learning at his knee.  I gathered all the pots I could lift near the back gate.  Two lovely blue planters sit just outside the arbor and I'll find something colorful and pretty to put in those.  An April in Paris rose grows just below the dining room bay window; can't wait for it to bloom.  It was given to us by special friends at my Mom's celebration of Life two years ago. 

Here's a before picture of one part of the garden.  I'll post an "after" pic when blooms are abundant.

And here is the Spring picture in bloom.

The arbor wisteria is in bloom and the wheelbarrow loves sitting under the arbor.

Easter Sunday

I awake this morning with a kiss on my forehead and a soft male voice saying "The Easter Bunny has prepared breakfast for you."  I'm not ready to wake up yet, but how can I not honor this lovely offering.  I throw my legs over the side of the king sized bed, choose a pink top for this Spring holiday morning, run a brush quickly through my recently permed hair, wash my face and hurry downstairs to see if I could yet help the beloved chef.  The Easter Bunny is sitting in a chair in our newly remodeled kitchen watching a sports channel on the tv over the new gas fireplace while he works in a Sudoku book.  He jumps up when he sees me and says, "The hashbrowns are ready, I'll do the over-easy eggs now."   When I look into the frypan, the hashbrowns are the perfect shade of golden brown.  I go out to the porch laundry room to start the coffee, Vanilla Nut Royale this week.  I send back East for my coffee.  I can't be described as a coffee lover; I drink coffee every now and then, mostly as an after dinner treat when dining out and occasionally in the morning at home.  This Easter Bunny has lived in my house for 44 years this coming August.  He is my soft place to fall, my hero, and my irritant when he can't find the clothes hamper which resides at the foot of the bed.  I have such respect for this man, especially in the way he fathers our only child, a son about to turn 33 years of age, two days before my Medicare birthday this month.  I know for this treat of breakfast on Easter Sunday, I will return the treat tomorrow morning with something special:  probably Irish oatmeal and blueberry muffins.

     This is a sad Sunday as I watch the news and learn of the deaths of Thomas Kinkade and Mike Wallace:  one a surprise and too soon, the other in a golden year and part of a long goodbye for his family.  Leaving this Earth has become a more frequent subject for rumination after experiencing the six year decline of my beloved mother who reached the age of 97 with such grace and kindness.  It has taken me two years to reach the place where I can let the bubble of my personality return and remember Mom with the joy and respect she deserves.  I will remember Mr. Wallace and Mr. Kinkade today as I work the last stitches of my afghan and prepare deviled eggs for an afternoon snack. 

Geek Squad to the rescue!

Computers could very well be an enemy plot to drive us mad.  When they work, it's bliss.  But they go "wonky" so often, it gives one pause to wonder if something isn't afoot, as Sherlock Holmes was heard to utter.  The Geek Squad guy is due any time between noon and 4, so it's a waiting game.  I cleaned off my desk, a bit; it is still evident a woman works here:  nail file, heart shaped earrings, hand cream, stationery (sparkly roses), bag of jewelry, and a miniature sequined purse I just couldn't resist which holds a flowered pin and a leprechaun key ring at the moment - all adorn my Hooker computer desk.  Maybe this is a perfect time to remove more items from my desk; decluttering is always a good thing, yes?

Fun Friday

Hair washed, no appointments today.  Sun is peeking through puffy clouds casting branch shadows on the back fence.  Choices for the day:  watch tv, listen to Pandora, crochet, organize years of pictures in bins in the basement, read Hunger Games part 2, go out and see Mirror, Mirror, ask husband what he wants to do.  All lovely choices.

April in the Village

I look out my window and see the branches of the Himalayian Cedar swaying slightly in the gray April day.  We all hunger for Spring in the village.  Even, I, who don't mind the winter months.  I've always thought dark days make the inside appear cozier.    We're talking about building a shed in the back yard.  We await the bid from our marvelous handymen duo, Andy and Dan.  I'm crocheting while I watch the beginning of Season Two of Game of Thrones, really too violent for my taste, but I want to be able to discuss the episodes with my husband. 
     Hmmmmm, wondering how I add photos to my blog.  I would like to put up a picture of the afghan.  Have some research to do.