I finished the book just after midnight. I laughed, I cried (I am a bit of a sop), and I closed it with a great sense of satisfaction. And I think that we have not seen the last of Hogwarts after all. I sure hope we haven't!
I thought I would give you a wee break from our travels through the steamy south to report on happenings closer to home. We are on our third crop of zucchini. Unfortunately, but for the greater good, I had to sacrifice the green zucchini after its first crop. I forgot how large zucchini plants get and it was robbing the favas of any hope of survival, let alone coming to fruition. So we have plenty of yellow:
These have made themselves known in a "carpaccio" with mint from the garden and lemons from our Sicilian grove, as well as in a delicious pasta dish with basil (also from our garden) and goat cheese (from the goat we keep in the garage).
And we have a few valiant favas! Here is the biggest one so far.
Okay, no succotash likely this summer, but lesson learned: give those beans plenty of room to grow, and don't be let yourself be taken in by wee little zucchini plants. Working on orders from the Dark Lord, they will only get bigger.
As will the tomato plants, though they clearly are on the side of good. The banana leggs are going forth and multiplying. The brandywines are more reserved. I believe that the unequal tomato growth is a test of some sort. And what is the hidden meaning of that wee bit of blossom rot? Merlin's Beard! If only Professor Sprout were here to help me add more calcium to the soil!
Things are looking swell in the more decorative half of the garden as well. A few weeks ago, I decided to try my hand at carpentry in an effort to cover up the ugly black plastic city-supplied rain barrel, undoubtedly home to a seething mass of Inferii, that sits right in the middle of our patio. Here's a picture of the neighbours' barrel, just to show you how deeply unattractive it is:
I'm no expert when it comes to carpentry, but I turned out to be a fairly dab hand. Not only does it look relatively nice, but it also serves as the perfect staging area for grilling. Speaking of which, you can just see my brand new 22.5 inch Weber grill (charcoal, of course) peeking up behind, snug as a bug in its little vinyl blanket.
We bought the grill, for half of what we'd pay here at Home Despot, at Midland Farm and Home in Jacksonville, Illinois. It's one of my favorite stores; one stop shopping for saltlicks, birdseed, Carhartts, barbeque sauce, beautiful cast iron cookware, and gunsafes. The old, smaller Weber has happily found a new home a few blocks away and has already been converted to vegetarianism by our friends Julie and Jen. Not sure how happy it is about THAT part of the deal.
We also added a birdhouse, picked up on our travels (it is a replica of the 500 or so barns in the Tennessee countryside that advertised a local garden attraction from the 1930s through the 1950s). I don't know if it will be a suitable home for anyone, but I like the look of it.
Actually, as I realize from this picture, I have hung it above the cat mint, likely hangout of the neighbourhood Dementors. I'm pretty sure now that it's not a suitable home.
My favorite plant, the globe thistle, is just popping with spiky blue orbs. The yarrow behind it is kind of subdued this year; I am beginning to think it goes in cycles: wild one year and tame the next.
Something we read in a garden book made us wary of trimming our Russian sage but it had just gone haywire, so this spring we pruned it back quite severely. It has continued to thrive, and it smells warm and spicy.
Notice the cat in the window, casting an Imperius curse on me: "You will let me out to roll around in the grass. You will bring me kitty treats. You will scratch my furry white tummy and fetch me tuna juice cocktails."
No comments:
Post a Comment