White Rabbit: I'm Late! I'm Late! I'm Late!

Ho boy.

I really will need to get hustlin' after this brief post.

Maya and I walked this morning...in the rain...again...

(I'm sure I've mentioned it before...it just will.not.stop.raining.)

*sigh*

Maya wasn't exactly in the most cooperative of spirits this morning and was feeling mighty motivated to SEEK OUT AND DESTROY ALL SQUIRRELS.  So the walk was shorter than ususal.  Subsequently, I was feeling like I had (all the time in the world) more time than usual this morning when we returned to house.  Upon entering the back yard time slowed to a standstill as I gazed about my overgrown and ever-so-soaked garden.

My eyes trained first on the peas...

then downwards to the strawberries...

The gravitational pull was too much and soon I was up to my elbows in lovely leaves a plenty.

I pulled out quite a catch and, like a giddy little girl, I ran into the house with my handful to wash.  It was so pretty I had to take a photo (or two...dozen) before gobbling them all down.  (And they were DELICIOUS.  Those strawberries are the sweetest I've ever eaten.  I sincerely wish I knew what kind they were.)

As I glance at the clock now I realize that those feelings of time slowing down were just that -- FEELINGS.  Time has been ticking away all the while and now it is *time* for me to make a mad dash to get ready for the day.

Work awaits! 

And I'm late! I'm late! I'm late!

Lupine, So Fine

Lupin or Lupine

family: Fabaceae

genus: Lupinus

ha! 

kin to fava! 

remember?

Fava is in the Fabaceae family too!

I *love* it! 

(And don't know why!!!)

So on Saturday, after a rich and WONDERFUL brunch at splendid Country Cat (me-ow!), me and one of my bestest pals, Elizabeth, took Maya for a walk out at 1,000 acres.  As we walked along its many trails, laughing and talking and exploring, in a moment of pure splendor, up popped this beauty ahead on the path:

I cooed over it and wondered what it was.  A lovely gentleman happened to pass by at that moment and told us that this beaut was lupine.  Deeeevine.

Gotta get me some of that!

I didn't have my camera with me at the time but two days later Maya and I went back to walk among the tall, wet grass and THIS time my camera was in tow. 

Maya in (and likely eating) the tall, wet grass

I did some lookin' online and among the books in my wee library:

• 
  
  most are perennials, though a few are annuals
• 
  
  they are nitrogen fixers
• 
  
  The name 'Lupin' derives from the Latin word 'lupinus' (meaning wolf) -- as, back in the day, many found that the plant has a tendency to ravage the land and the peas that appear from those loverly flowers were said to be fit only for the consumption of wolves.

Hm.  I do love this plant - but I've taken this last point to heart.  When I find a plant to bring into my space I ought to keep a close watch on it, lest it take over.

I think I could handle that: keeping close watch on it. 

It's beautiful!

Explode Into Chamomile

I've been spending the last hour or so pouring over photos...

...while the rain pours relentlessly outside...

...music pouring through the speakers

as I sort

gleefully

through images of chamomile...

So let the rain continue (and oh, how it continues)

I've got music streaming through the speakers and memories of sunshine past to occupy me.

for now, anyway

...and it's good fun!

inspiration for today's blog title:

Explode Into Colors

(a marvy local band)
"Paper" *will* make you get up and dance!!!

The Little Prince

How many of us *haven't* read The Little Prince? 

Those of you raising your hands, well, you're missing something and should visit the library to read a copy soon.  You'll be richer for it.  Promise.

Antoine de Saint-Exupery (author of said book) was a writer and aviator. (He was one of the pioneering pilots of the international postal flights -cool, eh?)  He once crashed while flying over the Sahara and was stranded for four days -- he and his copilot were rescued by a Beduin on camel.  The dehydration-induced hallucinations he experienced helped shape The Little Prince. (It also explains why the book starts with a pilot alone in a desert - until today I'd had no idea that beginning stemmed from his own experience!)  His own story is a tale in and of itself and I could go on and on about it but will stop myself here to get back to my point.

On the Max ride home from work I was reading an article about the photographer Robert Frank and Frank had quoted a line from The Little Prince:

"It is only with the heart that one can see right; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

I love that book. 

I love that quote! 

So as soon as I got home I went digging around for my copy of The Little Prince and flipped through it a bit as I sat on my back deck, in a rare and kismit-ee moment of sunshine. (Words cannot describe just how much it has rained these last few weeks, but a few that come close are: downpour, drenching, buckets, endless).

Fuzzy bees bumbled lazily in the chamomile.  The sun shown on the peas.  Droplets of rain from a downpour just passed fell from fava blooms onto the pansies below. 

In that moment I came across another line that just washed over me, much like the sun on my shoulders: 

"It is the time you have spent with your rose that makes your rose so important."

Hm.

This garden is a rose. 

My rose!

Bing! Beets are up!

Well those seeds are finally sprouting and first on the scene: beets!

Now I'll have to face the difficult task of thinning ...hmm...

Which among these sprouts will be the ones to take it to the finish?

Definitely - this has to be my least favorite part of gardening...pulling up wee sproutlets.

Part of me reeeealllly wants them to all have a chance -

duke it out!

may the best seed win! 

wait!

you're *ALL* winners!!!

*sigh*

But one of my favorite parts of gardening?  Chowing down on its bounty!

It's a comin!!!

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Snap!

pisum sativum

This pretty little flower is a promise. 

A promise of sugar snap peas. 

That's a pretty sweet promise.

I made mention of them in an earlier post.  It's nothing short of a miracle (the miracle of mother nature) that these guys made it past the strawberries.  But they did.  And they are now growing quite rapidly.  I've strung up hemp line to help them skyward. 

Actually, truth be told, I originally put up the line to keep Maya out of those beds and away from the strawberries.  Last year I ate only one berry, and really only a handful of them grew.  But those remaining four were 'picked' by Maya.  She was as good as she could be about it - she brought each and every one of them in to me to share. 

Aw.  So sweet.

She really is sweet.

Like sugar snap peas! 

Mangetout!

D'oh

I was sowing seeds a spell ago.  More chard and beet and lettuce. 

I had the proper number of pots for the job but I quickly realized that I didn't have enough markers on hand.   (More on markers later.)

Since I planned to line them all along the side of the garage, I decided to make do with what I had (as I was feeling terribly lazy) and those without markers would run along after pots potted with the same plant, until you ran into a different veggie (with its marker) so that they all ran along the outside wall in order.

Planter marked 'chard'...two planters to the right with chard but no marker...Planter marked 'beets'...three planters to the right with beets with no marker...and so on...and so on...and so on...

This worked like a charm and I was pleased with what I'd done.

Fast forward a week - the rains came.  (By-the-way, they haven't left.  grrrr...)  And I thought, "Oh! Well, best get those pots watered!  Move them out from under the shelter of the garage roof and save the effort of having to water them myself!" 

So clever.

(pat pat pat on the back)

Out I ran and moved those pots.

In no particular order.

Darnit.

Guess I'll find out what those unmarked pots contain when they sprout.

Fava Beans and a Nice Chianti

Vicia faba

I'll spare you the full quote.  But really, how many of us out there don't think of fava beans without thinking of Silence of the Lambs?  

...unfortunately my mind can't help but go there.  Though quite contrarily: Silence of the Lambs tends to give me a case of the heebie jeebies while fava beans make me pretty happy.

Why?

Well, the plant itself is really quite lovely.  If you are sure to plant the beans (after you've innoculated them) 3 inches or so below the soil, you'll give your plants a good base from which to grow (and remain) upright.  These beasties can reach 6' tall!  (woof!)  And the flowers.  Oh, the flowers!  They really are quite delightful and, to me, seem a bit ~sophisticated~.  Maybe it's the black and white thing - like how we tend to think that penguins are all running around in tuxes. 

taken 5/8/10 - they are about two feet tall

Anyway...looking past 'pretty', fava beans (also known as broad beans or field beans) are a great cover crop as they create a whole lot of biomass (that's 'plant material' to us laymen) and are excellent nitrogen fixers (they take nitrogen from the air and deliver it down the plant to the roots and soil where the nitrogen is stored - this is very good for your soil's health).  I'll get into cover crops later - as in towards the end of summer later - because it's spring time and it seems far too far away to be thinking of that quite yet. 

awww...Maya and the favas...

...a week later (5/14) and they are at least six inches taller!

The favas I planted six or seven weeks ago (which, anyone will tell you, is late - but *I'll* quickly respond 'better late than never!') are no cover crop - I have every intention of enjoying the favas that are surely (hopefully...) soon (eventually...) to arrive.  But like planting for cover crop, they will still provide a good bit of biomass for my compost and definitely will amend the soil in my planter box with greatly appreciated nitrogen. 

today - the growth has slowed down - now these favas are busy pushing out flowers!

I am willing to concede that there are way too many favas planted in this container...and I have little defense. 

They look pretty and I am greedy. 

I'll be sure to post a photo when those bean pods begin to form.  They are quite large and the fuzzy, fat pod contains a half dozen or so beans.  Each bean is wrapped in its own membrane that needs to be removed before you enjoy them.

(Oh, and you will enjoy them.) 

That whole bean-from-jacket-extraction is a bit of a pain but I push past it.  Just take a moment to boil some water, drop the beans in for a minute, then run them under cold water (or drop them in an ice water bath) to stop the cooking. 

Then remove the membrane: I usually pinch off the tip of one the end of the bean's little 'wrapper' and then squeeze the membrane (and bean) so that the bean pushes its way out through the wee tear I've created. 

Once I've got some favas to eat (oh! what a treat!) I'll try to take a photo or two of the process.

I usually add them to stir fried veggies - or saute them with some onion and ginger if I've got a whole lot of them.  But sometimes they don't make it that far - I gobble them up plenty as I'm prepping them and they are good just as is with a little salt and pepper. 

Don't be discouraged from preparing these - they really are quite good and are worth a little extra effort!

And I will tell you that I did enjoy some favas last night (courtesy of Organics to You, thanks again, Momma!)

With lamb burgers.

:)  Really.

They Bee Buggin': Mason Bees

Mason bee (family Osmia)

Okay, to start, I gotta tell you, I'd been itchin' to make a bee box for many, many moons.  I got a bee in my bonnet (so to speak) about it last year but never did a thing about it but think on it.  A couple weekends ago I got to talking about it (*again*) and then just quit talking and up and made one.

If you don't know what a bee box is, you might be impressed. 

That's about to end.  Because it really is quite simple...

You get yourself a drill, a drill bit (5/16-inch), a block of wood, a couple nails and some screws and *voila* -- you've got yourself a bee box.

Mason bees are solitary bees who lay their eggs in holes.  If they can't find holes, they lay fewer eggs...so if you build yourself a bee box, you'll likely find mason bees quickly on the scene.  And that is a good thing because mason bees are pollinators...so they'll help your garden grow.  And since they don't have a hive to protect, they aren't pushy - unless you squeeze or step on one, you aren't likely to get stung.

What these bees do is, they lay an egg and then go get some mud and build a wall around the egg and then lay another egg, mud wall it, and so on...and so on...until the hole is packed shut with mud (and eggs!)

The bee box I built ten days ago is just about ready for the 'no vacancy' sign so I drilled up another one Monday.  I seriously giggled - well, I mean to say, I'm serious about the fact that I giggled - when I saw that almost all of those holes from the first unit were filled. As I stood there smiling with extreme satisfaction, a fuzzy wee bee peered out of one of the holes - like she was saying hello.  She caught me by surprise.  And then she flew away. 

I ran and got the camera and then stood sentry in front of that box...with my hands held over my head, my camera at the ready should another bee appear.

It took a while and my arms went numb more than a few times...but I did get some fun photos. 

 

I am *so* delighted by this.

The Dilemma: Featuring Fennel

Disclaimer: no fennel grows in my garden.  But it could some day.  And with that in mind, I write...

My Organics to You box arrived today and inside was a fennel bulb.  Hm.  I've never prepared fennel before.  In fact, I've eaten it only a handful of times.

I wasn't sure what I'd do with it so started perusing my cookbooks in search of something that might grab me. 

America's Test Kitchen had plenty of fennel recipes: fennel braised with kale sauce (kale sauce? um, yummy) and linguine...fennel in bread stuffing with ham, mushrooms and pine nuts...on pizza with sun dried tomatoes and asiago...roasted with red onions and carrots...  Well, there were a lot of options there that sounded tasty, but they also sounded a bit heavier than I was after.  I had a pretty rich weekend full of excellent friends, good food and celebration so I was looking for something a little more fresh and light.  (And quite honestly, I wasn't in the mood for a major endeavour in the kitchen.)

I took a gander at my Moosewood Restaurant Low-Fat Favorites: Flavorful Recipes for Healthful Meals book next and learned that it's a member of the parsley family (ha!) and is native to the Mediterranean.  And so they say,the bulb has a crunchy texture like celery and has a mild licorice taste...hmmm...what to do, what to do...

Looked online a bit and flipped through more books and learned that fennel is rich in vitamins A, B complex, phosphorus, potassium (which we in the NW get plenty of) and sulfur.  It provides relief from abdominal cramping and nausea and stimulates the appetite.  I also learned that it is best eaten raw..and so that's where I landed.
I found a recipe for Jicama, Orange and Fennel salad in one of my Moosewood books.  It fit perfectly as my box came with oranges...as well as radishes - so I swapped out the jicama for radish and went to work.

I didn't have a clue as to how to clean and cut the fennel but found plenty of info online.  This video was my favorite resource.  (Plus I love the Australian accent.)

The recipe was incredibly simple and it turned out quite lovely.  I'd make it again!