Boot Brush

Muck on the outside
Grit and twigs on the inside

How they get in, I'll never understand. My tall, working-in-the-yard-and-mud boots get bits of twigs, grass, dirt, and debris into them.  The lining is almost like flannel, so all those little pieces tend to stay.  I've taken out the foot liners and washed them, but there's still lots of stuff that migrates underneath and clings to the inside walls of the boot.  Ick!  The vacuum cleaner was no help.

Best boot brush around

Today, as I grabbed the long-handled dish brush that lives outside for scrubbing buckets and boots, a high-light marker skimmed over Things I get to do today--use this long-handled brush to "sweep" out the deep recesses of the boots before you settle down at the rain barrel spigot to scrub off the mud.  What a good idea!

Free of debris--Happy feet
You bet your big toe, bare feet know the difference!

I took out the insoles and bushed them clean.  The brush could reach all the way to the toe, and believe me, for a size 12 boot that is a long way to reach.  In a very short time, the foot area was smooth and free of debris.  The brush worked equally well to sweep out the walls of the tall boots.  A small annoyance solved.  Happy bare feet.

The Back Porch

Things collect.  I don't even really have a back porch--back entrance, yes--it's really only a step between the patio and the door in.  It's out of the weather pretty much.  Is that what makes it attract stuff?

Nature does its part.  This is a corner, and the wind brings things to corners and forgets to pick them up again.  Leaves and twigs always and pollen this time of year cover the surfaces.

"Before" has gone.
"After" feels like we're headed the right direction.

Then there's my contribution.  It's almost as though it is a part of the Things I get to do today--"leave something on the back porch."  One thing leads to another and before you know it, a small mountain of odd items is snuggled together like incestuous  family of some sort.  Enough!

After removing residue from footwear not allowed in the house under even emergency situations, it seems like a good time to move "stuff" to more appropriate locations, hit it with the broom, and tidy up.

Company

Did you notice I was gone?  No pictures of being gone because I wasn't here on Sunday.

Family came to town; the sun came out; we did tourist things--Pittock Mansion and Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden.  If you're from out of town, look them up.  When you come to visit me, I take you there.

So letting you know I'm here again is one of the Things I get to do today.  See you sometime on Monday.

The Whole is Greater

Pink cherry and lilac from the neighbors 

Sometimes two plus two equals five or nine or more.  When some of the parts are shared from neighbors and friends, the end result is beyond words.  So I gathered and combined flowers the other day until I was in a state of bliss. Truly the whole was greater than the sum of the parts.  But then flowers never did do the math.

Gathered from the yard

Two bunches of roses and a few accent color flowers were purchased for the arranging of Things I get to do today.  Cardoon leaves, calendula in yellow and orange,  lilly of the valley, tulips were from my yard. Pink cherry blossoms and white lilacs are from the neighbors.  What a gift!

Christmas and Spring

In the arms of love

We had a magnificent Christmas tree this last winter.  When the official season was over, the tree was definitely not dead or ready to be disposed of--see: "In the Arms of Love" (1-3-12).  Subsequent holidays came and went, Valentine's, Presidents', St. Patrick's, and Easter.  I had thought if the tree can make it until Easter, oh my!

Still quite green for a May Christmas Tree

May 1, well past Easter, a terrific wind came through.  The Christmas tree leaned out from its arms of security and toppled to its side on the ground.  It was time.  Along with its departure came the awareness of its future use.

Steep bank and erosion

Bank secured with Christmas branches

The limbs were cut from the trunk and used to stabilize the steep bank of the ditch/creek next to our property where Dame Apple lives.  These branches will help hold the soil through the rains that we are sure to have.









And the trunk?  It will season over the summer.  Next Christmas we will burn those logs for our family gathering. When the house is again quiet, the ashes will be scooped and sprinkled into the garden where they will become part of new life.  Full cycle.  Sweet tradition.

Thistle Soup

Cardoon plant is about 4 ft. across and 3 ft. tall

Not even Eeyore likes to eat thistles. "Hot!" he says. Sharp points, I say. These big cousins to thistles and artichokes have their own share of spines.  The points are definitely not for eating.

I knew nothing about cardoons when I was gifted some seeds last spring. They are cold-hardy perennials, so in the middle of winter, when fresh greens were scarce, my lovely hens celebrated Christmas with a feast of cardoon leaves and thought it was the best.

Since these are the biggest edible thing in my garden right now,  I decided to make a favorite soup from Moosewood's Restaurant Daily Special "Artichoke Heart Soup,"* substituting prepared cardoon stalks for the celery and artichokes.

Can be topped with Parmesan cheese for extra punch

The result was excellent in flavor and texture and was a creative way to use produce on hand.  I love to go into the garden, especially when not much else is yet available, and harvest a good portion of our dinner.

De-stringed, boiled and ready to go.

So if you decide to plant cardoon, here are a few tips: They can be started early spring indoors and moved out.  The outer stalks can be harvested--remove the edge spines and leafy portion.  It will then look much like celery--remove the rib strings.  Cut into 1" lengths and boil in salted water with several tablespoons of lemon juice for one hour or until tender.   Now its ready to be cooked into something that even Eeyore would eat.





*CARDOON THISTLE SOUP
(serves 5-6)
1 T olive oil
1 cup thinly sliced onions
3 garlic cloves, minced or pressed
2 cups cardoon pieces chopped coarsely in a food processor
1 can chopped tomatoes (14 oz.)
2 cups frozen or fresh peas
4 cups broth--more is you like it thinner
1 T fresh lemon juice
1/2 t dried basil
1 t salt
1/4 t freshly gourd black pepper
Grated Parmesan cheese (optional)

Warm the oil in the large non reactive soup pot and sauté the onions and garlic on medium heat for 5 minutes, until lightly browned, stirring occasionally.  Meanwhile chop the cardoon pieces.  When the onions are golden, add the cardoon and cook for 5 minutes,  continuing to stir.

Stir in the tomatoes, stock, lemon juice, basil, salt and pepper, increase the heat to medium-high, and cook for about 10 minutes.  Stir in the peas.  Heat through.  Serve topped with grated cheese, if you wish.

Pea Hooks

Three rows of 

Pea vines can't wait.  I've seen the type that grow to 30" and don't need supports.  Good hype.  In my yard, they needed support.  I just go ahead and plant pole snap peas since the yield is so much better.  But when the peas are about seven inches tall, their little slender hooks reach out for something to hang on to.  These little threads are amazingly strong and will grab just about any finger offered for their support.  Pea hooks, I call them.

Took several tries threading the rebar, nylon web, and
chains at the right intervals
to position the support over the peas

The garden bed next to the house seemed like a good experimental pea patch this year.  With all the chicken-enhanced fertilizer available, these vines will probably go clear up to the eaves of the house.  So why not just have the eaves hold the vines from the get-go.  Eye screws, three lengths of old rusty chain, an equally rusty length of rebar,  6"-squared web of nylon trellis, and another rusty rebar at the bottom to anchor the nylon web.

Delicate dance of strength

I used to think that pea vines were dumb and didn't know how to climb.  Look at pole beans!  They just circle around anything close by and head for the sky.  Peas will fall over on the ground with a sturdy string right next to them.  I just didn't get it that pea vines know how to grow UP, and they leave the "hanging on" to their graceful, tiny hooks.

Peas headed up their trellis.
There's that pink bucket again.
Can you guess what the bucket is for?

So when all my "get-to" things are done, the peas have a structure that will take them as far as they want to go (more rebar can be added if they go over six feet).  But peas and their hooks are blind.  I'll have to nudge them the right direction and connect a few of their hooks to the web.  I'm smart enough to do that.