Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Poor Dearest Darling: The Silver Lining

Every January I get a bee under my bonnet to redecorate. New year, fresh look. Our kitchen is a lovely shade of wedding mint green, but it's time for it to go.

I have a dozen shades of grey paint chips on the wall that I've been evaluating. Unable to whittle them down, I asked my husband (who is green colorblind) which he liked best.

He examined the options carefully, appeared bemused for a moment and uttered:

"They're all nice, but they all look exactly like what we've got now."

Monday, October 7, 2013

When My Husband Makes His Own Breakfast

My husband makes our breakfast every morning. It's a generous and loving habit he started when we were first married, and he's kept it up ever since.

Normally our fare is something along the lines of bacon, eggs, grits, and coffee. Plain oatmeal on penitential days. Pancakes or waffles on weekends. Donuts on Sundays if the Boy Scouts are selling them after Mass. Hash browns, sausage, and/or biscuits on special occasions, when I make them.

All fairly normal stuff, right?

For the last few days I haven't been able to join my husband for breakfast and wondered what he would eat if I weren't around.

This morning my curiosity was sated when I saw his Breakfast Deluxe Combo: Poptarts, Oreos, and liverwurst.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Vignettes of A Beautiful August Day

May I share a few glimpses of beauty with you on this lovely August afternoon?

Remember back in February when my sweet husband gave me these? Well, it's a whole six months later (to the day), and not only are they still alive, but last night I spied THIS:

*siren noise* We have a bloom, people! We have a bloom! *end siren noise*

And speaking of lovely gifted blooms, please share my joy in this gorgeous specimen...

... given to us by a very very dear couple.

And while we're still on the subjects of flowers, this showpiece is from a rose bush that I thought, last year, was dead!

It just needed some really hard pruning and it rewarded us with exquisite roses.

This one speaks for itself. I don't know what it is, but every year they grow up and every year I'm astounded by the brilliance of color.

And then there's these monsters...

... twelve to fourteen feet tall, and ablaze with golden glory.

The zucchini plants are thriving and, happily, are supplying us with just enough courgettes to meet demand. Four plants were the perfect amount for our little family.

And the tomatoes...

... are juicy and flavorful. They're not my favorite tasty heirloom varieties, but they didn't succumb to any of the viruses that have plagued my previous attempts, either. How does the old saying go? A hybrid tomato in the hand is worth two heirlooms in the Verticillium Wilt bush. Or something like that.

And finally, on the subject of bushes...

Will you take a look at that basil? There's enough there for pesto every night of the week for the next three winters.

We are so blessed with beauty.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Involuntary Plantslaughter

This February I attempted to grow sweet potato slips from some sweet potatoes we gleaned last Summer. Five potatoes were cut in half and donated to the cause of regeneration.

I dutifully kept them in 1" of water until roots sprouted and watched with excitement when, after three months in said water, one of them grew leaves!!

I beamed with pride at my little sweet potato -- no one believed it would ever sprout, and it was beautiful. Sure, the other 9 never made it, but the one that did was thriving.

My husband planted it last week.

Trying to be helpful, I weeded this week.

"Why is there that one huge weed in this otherwise clean bed?"


Monday, June 10, 2013

Putting Life on Hold

I've been browsing the farm classifieds for sheep, pigs, ducks and dairy cows for the last few months. After all, we were going to break ground on our dream house this Fall and would finally be living on a nice little chunk of property.

Our last chance for financing fell through, though, and it's pretty official that until our ground has no crops on it and our taxes show no indication of agricultural income from the property, we're sunk. The absolute earliest, then, is 2015.

That stings.

Bye bye awesome mortgage interest rates, most likely. No living on the property means no livestock. No house means no adoption.

Jezu ufam Tobie.