THE COUSIN’S GIFT

Once upon a time, a young girl living in Vancouver sent her cousin a beautiful blanket, made in Scotland. It was as soft as Scottish thistledown, white as snow on the top of the Cascades and lacy like spider webs in the early morning sunlight.

When the baby girl was born, on January 25th, 1971, her mother wrapped her up in that wonderful blanket to take her home. In a few months, when the California sunshine made a blanket somewhat unnecessary, and the realities of a casual, crawl on the grass and in the dirt lifestyle would have destroyed the blanket, the young mother washed it carefully and placed it in a drawer.

Through moves around California, over the seas to Australia and back again, from house to house to sailboat, the blanket was packed along. It found a home at the bottom of a sweet scented cedar chest and was only taken out to show the baby, now a toddler, now a little girl, now a teenager, the lovely blanket given by a cousin that she knew only by name.

Time turned for another 22 years and on 8/31/93, the girl in turn became a mother. Her daughter was born in a Sacramento hospital, and when the infant was ready to go home, her mother wrapped her in that same lovely blanket. The grandmother had stitched some of the cobwebs back together and carefully washed it, then gave it gladly to her daughter to bring another child home to a life’s beginning. As the early months passed, the young mother folded the blanket up, putting it away in a drawer for that someday.

The blanket stayed safe through moves to the far north of California along the Mad River and the wild coast, then across the Continental Divide to the land that Daniel Boone kept wandering away from. Leaving Kentucky, the blanket was brought along to Texas and finally, in a wide circle, returned to central California. The baby raced her way through time and grew faster than her grandmother’s eyes could follow. In the way that time is measured by women, there came the moment when she was awaiting the birth of her child. Those who know these things told her that soon she would hold a son in her arms.

The woman who would soon be a grandmother opened her drawer and pulled out the blanket. Gently she laid it out and saw that time had been kind to the soft fabric. She threaded new needle with snowy white thread and began to reconnect the few strands of spider-floss that would help cuddle the baby boy. She talked to her mother, sharing the experience and the long thread of memory and time that the blanket represented. And that woman, who had once been a young girl awaiting her own child, could see the threads of binding that the blanket had become. It binds her to the land where she had been born, through her shared bond with her cousin, and it bound her to the future, to the face of a child she has not yet met, but who shares those ties with the women who brought him forth through the ages. It binds her to her cousin who made a chain of caring with a simple gift of a small white blanket.

The rain has been pouring down with enough frequency that I haven't watered in about a month. This planter was installed in late March and filled with brand new seedlings. The heat makes things grow slowly but with the rain, I haven't lost a single plant. By next year, I expect it to look fantastic. When the weather cools off, I'll have the energy to stop being lazy and pull a few weeds.
This beauty is called Ebb Tide and should be a deep purple. The sun plays havoc with the colors sometimes, but this rich magenta isn't all that bad. It's the same color as my toe nails.

I just ran out to fill the hummingbird feeders. There's an ongoing battle for the feeders with the hummers trying to drive off each other and the goldfinches. The wasps are even meaner than the hummers. After hanging sugar-water bottles, I figured I could tie up tomatoes. Just as I was picking the 7 little orange tomatoes that were ripe, I looked down and saw maybe 10 mosquitos happily making breakfast on my legs. Okay - that's it - back inside for the Bactine and A/C. The tomatoes taste really good - now that I've stopped itching enough to enjoy them.


So much time flies by and it seems only yesterday I updated this. If three months ago is "yesterday" then tomorrow I'll be 90 and wondering where my life went.
The birds and bugs are happy denizens of the yard but Tim and I, Boris and Daisy, hide inside from the mosquitos. In the mid-Atlantic, people are crying over heat day after day in the 90's. Here, it's not so bad because temperatures are only up to 90.
This week, I even walked 4 blocks to lunch on Thursday and Friday - okay 3 blocks, but they were really long blocks.

The castle is undergoing major work. While I was in Dallas a couple of weekends ago, I asked the handyman to rip out all the carpets, baseboards, nail strips and the old flooring in the kitchen.
For simplicity's sake, I will just say that I make a better general contractor than Tim. He's nice - I woudn't have been. So now, we are in the state of finishing the removal. I believe there is a power-tool floor scraper in Tim's near future. Still, the concrete doesn't look too bad and the removal of the baseboards showed us some water damage that has stopped but needs to be cleaned up. Next steps are glue removal, floor cleaning, painting, polishing and new baseboards. Painting means the whole house, since we're clearing every room as we go along. Timetable? Oh, good grief. We've been in the house 4 years and the dead-mouse carpet just got ripped out. At the rate we go, I expect the floors to be cleaned of glue by the end of August. The rest - well, I get my left knee replaced in December, so hopefully before then.

Spring Time in Austin

Last summer we had the heat. Over the winter we had the freezes. Now we get the reward.For the brief time it will last, Spring is here in Austin and this morning's Farmer's Market was an explosion of fresh colors and flavors. The Market moved from Sunset Valley to the back of Barton Creek shopping center and at 9 this morning, it was full of happy people.



Somehow, over the next week and a half, I will create dinner plate art using a palette of red and green asparagus, lovely carrots that would make Peter Rabbit cross into Mr. McGregor's garden without a thought in his head, and strawberries. There is no joy sweeter than Texas strawberries. They come around for such a brief period, so for the little time we have them, it is strawberry salad, strawberry pie and shortcake with berries tumbling through cascading falls of whipped cream.

We hardly ever eat lettuce, but I was unable to resist this lovely ball of red red leaves gently cupping the delicate green inside. Maybe just a simple salad with thin slivers of parmesan and a light basil viniagrette.

I just learned something new. If you click on the photo, it opens up and you see it larger. Maybe the whole world already knew this, but I was pretty excited. Sigh - it takes so little!

THe baby turnips will be easy. Sliced thin and tossed with red onion,serrano chile and a little apple cider vinegar they'll make a perfect salad. I've already eaten one with just a little salt and it was sweet and mild.

Sometimes, in the middle of August, when everything has to be accomplished before 10 A.M. it's too easy to forget that we have this glorious spring. The bluebonnets are competing with the coral paintbrush for attention and I saw the first baby this morning - a small brown Nubian goat, curled up in the grass. Everywhere I look I see redbuds covered in pink blooms and the Lady Banks roses climbing over every possible surface in their yellow flowers. In my own yard the daffodils have had their turn at center stage and the irises are just a few weeks behind. Nala's rose has the first bud on it and Thistle's rose is getting tiny green leaves. While I weeded, Daisy and Boris lay close by, just enjoying the sun and breeze.It's all good right now.

Spring - sort of

After all the cold, we had a stunning week of temperatures in the mid 70's. with bright sunshine. I was supposed to be off for Spring Break (a.k.a. mandatory furlough), but life interfered and I spent a good part of it parked inf ront of the computer. Still, I was looking at my backyard, which, even though it is still an idea in progress, beats the heck out of looking at rooftops in downtown.

I did get time to pull the weeds up in the planter area that was done this winter. I spent one amazing afternoon talking to my daffodils and telling them our stunning I thought they were.

For a day I thought I had a rare red crocus in the middle of the yellow and purple ones. Before I spent the fortune I would surely make from selling the offspring to every commercial plant breeder in the country, I took a closer look and realized it was a tulip that had opened when the plant was barely out of the ground. Since the only tulips I planted were supposed to be huge red things, there is obviously a problem with growing tulips here. Still, the daffodils are a bright shot of sunshine tthat tells me it s spring.

Do scroll down and look at the planter beds when they first went in. The look adds so much to the house that Tim wants to get the front section done immediately. This is good because I ordered 35 plants from High Country Gardens just to do the front yard and really had little idea of where I was going to put them. Gardening is like that - I order the plants, expect that I will get the beds built, the soil ordered, the weeds pulled. Life slips by and UPS drops off a box on my porch and there are tiny pots filled with life forms that need to snuggle into the dirt.That's just the yucca, lavender, gaillarda, honeysuckle, agastache..et al. Then there are the Heritage Roses that came in and still need a bed to begin spring in. Obviously this is a very serious addiction and I will never move past it.

Yard in Progress

Frank the Yard Dude came by this morning, manicuring the lawn around the emerging daffodils, turning the wild open range back into suburbia like every other yard in the subdivision. I figured I better take these pictures now - the contrast with "what is" compared to "what will be" is going to show up so much better if I put the gray day photos of now against a sunlit photo of new planter beds. As soon as the beds are built, I'm going to set in Canna bulbs so that they'll screen the garage openings and maybe some Rose of Sharon. The old lantana needs cutting down before the new leaves start and the Bearded Iris need to be thinned out. If I get one warm sunny day during the next few weeks, I will take off work so I can do some much needed maintenance.

Just noticed all the birds fleeing the yard as a hawk slides across the sky. Big Bad John came to town and all the little guys ran for cover. Guess so - who wants to end up as a meal?

When I run across a young one who claims to want to be a writer, I tell them, as if I knew the secrets to the universe, that the difference between a writer and other folks is that a writer writes. Do you think there is a point where I will get that? That I will write instead of talk about it? This blog is part of that. If I can get past the sporadic words that find their way here, then maybe I will truly be a writer. Wrinkled, grizzled, older than dirt, but, by the powers that be, a writer!

A cold February day

It is beautiful outside, though now at 5 PM, the sun is fading fast and it's getting cold again. We started out the morning taking Daisy and Boris for a walk.
I feel guilty that there always seems to be an excuse - too busy, too tired, too dark, too cold. Dogs are so amazing. The leashes come out and the collars rattle and they nearly fly through the air they're so excited about being out with us. They ignore all the neighborhood dogs, just walking along, sniffing the universe to find out what changed between today and the last time we all got out. This morning was wonderful - crisp, perfect for walking, bright sun after a week or more of gray days.

Spring is getting closer

This morning I started 21 tomato varieties in the peat pellet starters. I think I succumb to the names as much as to the descriptions.
Red Alert - Determinate
55 Days from Transplant

Cuoro de Toro (ndeter)
Oxheart

Isis Candy - Indeter
Cherry

Box Car Willie -Indeterm)
Huge

Black Plum -Indeterm


Way Ahead - Determinate
63 Days

Orange Banana - Indeterm


Legend - Determinate
68 Days

Kimberly - Indeterm/Compact
Cherry - 54 Days

Jersey Devil - Indeterm
Long - 80 Days

Costoluto Genovese - Indeterm
78 Days

Chapman - Indeterm
Big fruit - 80 Days

Ceylon - Indeterm
Small, scalloped - 80 Days

Black Cherry - Indeterminate
65 Days

Akers West Virginia
Indeterm - 85 Days

Ananas Noir - Indeterm
Black - 80 Days

Azoychka - Indeterm
Small Yellow - 70 Days

Rosalita - Indeterm
Grape - Pink - 60 Days

Pantano Romanesco - Indeterm
Scalloped, deep red - 80 Days
Magnum - Indeterm
Large Red - 80 Days

Opalka - Indeterm

Don't they make you wonder what the taste of summer will be? I'm using smaller starter trays and when the true leaves come, I'll move them to the window sills in my office - more light, which is always my problem.

I have all this energy for gardening and all the desire to do it. Suddenly though, I'm aware of other ripenings. Tauri is going to have a baby in August. How very very odd. 18 (close enough) years ago, I was worrying about Janai and how it would all work out for her. Now Tauri is 17 1/2 (close enough) and she's going to bring another being into the world. All the fears, hopes, wishes and I will have even less interaction with this new person than I ever did with Tauri-and Lord and Lady Bless, that has been an interesting state of affairs. I'll tend the plants and worry about this descendant of mine and hope it all works out. I assume female because I've never known anything else. The child will be a direct line from history through me into a future I will not be here to see.

So we veered from gardening to progeny. I guess that's not such a big leap after all.