Sow what?

Well, I may not be able to sew, but we can try our hand at sowing. Last night Andrew transferred some carefully selected seeds into a seed starter "greenhouse" (basically a divided plastic tray with a cover). Some of these seedlings should start to sprout in as little as one week! Then they will be transferred into peat pots that can later be planted directly into the soil. I am becoming more and more convinced that there will be no room to sit on our porch this summer.


Here's what we got cooking:

Black from Tula Tomato

Sweet Pea Currant Tomato

Brown Berry Tomato

Beam's Yellow Pear Tomato

Greek Oregano

Purple de Milpa Tomatillo

Basil-Genovese

Wapsipinicon Peach Tomato

Miniature Chocolate Bell Pepper

Cilantro

The Wild Wild West

Mountains... hiking... skiing... views... fresh air... sunshine... sunburns... Elsa... Triumph... Wahoo's... friends... family... wild times.

Succulence

We've slowly been adding to our repertoire of succulent plants over the past few years. Let's face it: they're pretty cool. Sometimes I have to resist taking a big, juicy bite out of their fat, water-storing leaves. If nothing else, they are great examples of adaptation (read here to learn more about their water-saving features). Here are our latest additions:

Green at Heart

Since Andrew has started working for Topiarius, I've noticed a different rhythm to our home: one that is more in tune with and accepting of the seasons. Each season commands a respect, has something to offer and has something to prepare us for (if nothing else, the next season). A week or so ago, I found Andrew poring over a catalog of plants and seeds, after which he excitedly (and cautiously) rattled off his plans for our back porch this spring and summer. I could almost see the visions of Tom Thumb Pea plants dancing in his head. Not long after that, he brought a bag of hibernating tulip bulbs up from the basement. He took them out of the paper bag, dusted them off and then proceeded to store them in our crisper where they will remain until planting time. (Apparently, tulip bulbs need to be kept cold for a period of time before planting, but they would be too cold outside.) And if that were not enough, I also learned that bulbs cannot be stored with fruit. So, in went the bulbs and out went the fruit. And thus I was introduced to bulb care.

Despite the ever prevalent wintry temperatures of these past weeks, the energy of spring is upon us, if no place else than in Andrew's hopeful plans. This week he has started taking Botany 1 at The School of the Chicago Botanic Garden, so I'm sure it is only a matter of time before plant taxonomy and classifications are rolling off his tongue. While it is good to accept the present, there is a time to look ahead. And I've embraced Andrew's carefully laid plans to usher Spring our way. I've enjoyed discussions about what herbs we'll be growing and Andrew's intention to grow heirloom tomatoes from seed this year. I love to open the back door and envision a porch laden with green life. I like that our refrigerator's traditional role is being disrupted, and I'm grateful that every time I go to grab a piece of fruit, I'm reminded of the sacrifices that must be made for the sake of preparations. Spring is surely coming.

Tomorrow is Andrew's birthday, and as he prepares to celebrate a new year, in many ways, so do we all.

Communi-tree

We put our tree up this past weekend and we wondered how simple trees with simple trimmings can look so beautiful. Several years ago, for our first Christmas as a married couple, we invited our dear friends over to help us fashion the ornaments for our first Christmas tree. We purchased some materials, poured some wine and laughed over what would soon become cherished symbols of friendship, creativity and a new life together. Every year, Andrew comes up with some newfangled tree topper, usually using something from around the apartment. So far, it hasn't been the same twice.

I like what a Christmas tree represents: light, change, preparation, nature, creation, memories... And specifically, I like that our tree represents a taste of our community, of those we hold dear - those of our past, our present and those yet to come.

Porch Dwellers

We have expanded the list of inhabitants on our porch this summer. Andrew's new job has inspired him to invest in our own "landscaping" and the payoff has been great. One hibiscus, one hydrangea, two flower boxes and one tomato cage later, our back porch has turned into a virtual garden jungle (indeed, we seem to have adopted a more "natural/wild" look than anything coiffed or controlled). I spend many an evening prying Andrew away as he tends to and cares for our new charges. Here's the roll call:

Hibiscus: Affectionately known as "Hibby", this plant is on her second or third life. We purchased her in early spring and kept her inside until it finally became warm enough to move her to the porch. We think she underwent a bit of a shock in acclimating to the outdoors, and didn't bloom for several weeks in protest. But then we reaped our reward and she has been averaging about five blooms a day. Right now, she is recovering from either being root-bound or possibly some kind of disease in which she lost most of her leaves. Slowly but surely, more new growth is emerging every day.


Tomato: We have some Jetstars and a hybrid variety which look promising until they start to ripen. We think they have some type of bloom rot and Andrew has been adding garden lime in an effort to combat the problem. Successfulness TBD.


Hydrangea: Ah, the beloved hydrangea. Always a hit, ever beautiful. These came home with Andrew from work and have been a joy since.

The Romance of Maple Syrup

Part I: The Romance of Maple Syrup
Manna for the Pioneers
"Captain Charles Sias looked anxiously at the March sun now nearing the horizon. He judged it should be no more than two miles to the new cabin, but after unloading the sled he and his two friends would have to cover the eight miles back to Peacham before dark. The three men hurried as fast as they could on their snowshoes as they made their way through the deep drifts of the trackless forest. Each bent forward slightly as he pulled on the rope which tugged the sled loaded with seven Sias children and provisions. Veering right or left to ease the sled around prickly brush and trees, the men watched constantly for the gashes the captain had made previously on the east side of each tenth tree to mark the way." And thus begins Part I of The Vermont Maple Syrup Cook Book.


Knowing my New England roots, my coworker and friend, Christine, bought this book for me at the Glenview Public Library (they have a great selection of used books for sale). While it's not exactly an antique (copyright 1966 and 1974), it has some old-fashioned and flowery language that aptly transforms a mere cook book into a romance story. The story goes on to reveal how maple syrup rescued the early settlers of Danville, VT in 1784. "History does not record how many times maple syrup saved the early Vermonters from starvation but The Vermont Historical Gazeteer, published in 1867, stated that 'in 1789 sufferings of the time were severe and maple sugar formed the chief article of food. Like the manna of the ancient Hebrews, it was really a providence in the time of hunger and famine. No doubt, those stern old fathers blessed the forest trees that gave them food and life.'"

The book is endearing from its pencil sketch drawings to its last due-date stamp (September 17, 1981) to its heartfelt disclaimer that Vermont has no monopoly on maple trees (which, as a New Hampshirite, I appreciated). The author is clearly enamored with maple syrup. And when reading, it's hard not to feel drawn to the old sugarhouses and maple tree forests littered with taps and pails. I suppose therein lies the romance of maple syrup.

A few recipes:

Rice Pudding
2 cups cooked rice
1 1/3 cups milk
1/2 cup Pure Vermont Maple Syrup
1/8 tsp. salt
1 tsp. vanilla
2 eggs
1/3 cup raisins
1 tsp. lemon juice
1 cup bread crumbs

Drain rice well. Beat together milk, Maple Syrup, salt, butter, and eggs. Add vanilla. Mix this with the rice. Combine raisins and lemon juice, and add to the mixture. Grease baking dish and cover bottom with bread crumbs. Put the rice mixture over this and top with bread crumbs. Bake at 325 degrees until it is set. Serve hot or cold.

Rum Punch
2 oz. lemon juice
1 oz. Pure Vermont Maple Syrup
3 oz. rum
dash of grenadine

Shake well with ice. Pour into a tall glass filled with crushed ice. Decorate it with orange or lemon slices.

Signs of Summer

Random Resources

Here are a few interesting websites I've happened upon.

eNature.com | An online field guide to over 5,500 species of everything from seashells to birds to wildflowers.

Earth911 | Wondering where to dispose of an old cell phone or fluorescent bulbs? Input your disposable and zip code here to find out the recycling or re-use location near you.

The Daily Dish by Andrew Sullivan | For your political amusement and/or bemusement...

Supercook | Input ingredient, get recipe.

World Ark | The magazine produced by Heifer International. I've received this publication at home for a few months now, and I'm impressed by its in-depth approach to various and complex issues.

Dog Days

Every summer I try to adopt the mentality of living in the present. Summer arrives and the fun begins and then, before you know it, it's over. So I try to soak up every moment and be conscious of each day. Sometimes I succeed; sometimes I fail. But it's always a good reminder for me to look back at the summer's events and remember that we did indeed take advantage of those dog days. I know we still have some summer left, so all the more reason to be conscious of what we did and what we have left to do.

Celebrating Cristina's birthday in June

Fourth of July fireworks in Grant Park

A game of Cornhole (there have been lots of those)

Go Cubs!

Applying tattoos at our church's neighborhood block party

The Butterfly Conservatory at the Nature Museum

(Even the best of us can have an identity crisis)

The butterfly mating dance

Venetian Night at Monroe Harbor

Nesting

Perhaps it is rather symbolic that around our 6 month anniversary of being married, and our 6 year anniversary of being together, we would discover that we are hosting another little family just starting out. When I first heard the noisy birds flying to and from the ledge above our living room window, my instinctive thought was "Great, pigeons." I hate pigeons. For 2 years, in my former apartment, I witnessed several mating, laying, hatching and growing cycles of these birds. They had a nest on a ledge outside my bedroom window, about 2 feet away from my pillow. I'm not exaggerating. Between their obnoxious squawking and 4-inch pile of poop, it was difficult to develop a healthy relationship. I don't miss them at all. So, it would only seem natural that my first reaction to our new inhabitants would be one of dread. But both Andrew and I have been pleasantly surprised to learn otherwise. Instead, we are hosting an American Kestrel family, also known as the American Sparrow-Hawk. The Audubon Society has some great information about these birds:

When spring returns to enliven the earth each male bird seeks for its mate, whose coyness is not less innocent than that of the gentle dove. Pursued from place to place, the female at length yields to the importunity of her dear tormentor, when side by side they sail, screaming aloud their love notes, which, if not musical, are doubtless at least delightful to the parties concerned. With tremulous wings they search for a place in which to deposit their eggs secure from danger, and now they have found it.

They've found it alright. And while I might debate the idea that their love notes are always "delightful", they beat any noise a pigeon makes, hands down. So we welcome our little family and look forward to the life it will bring.