ImPerceptibility

Archive for the ‘Growing Something’ Category

This choice was made under a tree last month.  I waited to be sure it was true.  It is and it is right. I’ll miss ImPerceptibility but mostly I’ll miss you.  Take care.

Goodbye Stranger

It was an early morning yesterday
I was up before the dawn
And I really have enjoyed my stay
But I must be moving on

Like a king without a castle
Like a queen without a throne
I’m an early morning lover
And I must be moving on

Now I believe in what you say
As the undisputed truth
But I have to have things my own way
To keep me in my youth

Like a ship without an anchor
Like a slave without a chain
Just the thought of those sweet ladies
Sends a shiver through my veins

And I will go on shining
Shining like brand new
I’ll never look behind me
My troubles will be few

(Goodbye stranger it’s been nice)
(Hope you find your paradise)
(Tried to see your point of view)
(Hope your dreams will all come true)
(Goodbye Mary, Goodbye Jane)
(Will we ever meet again)
(Feel no sorrow, feel no shame)
(Come tomorrow, feel no pain)

Sweet devotion,
It’s not for me
Just give me motion,
To set me free
Land in the ocean,
Far away
By my chosen
Every day

So Goodbye Mary,
Goodbye Jane
Will we ever
Meet again

Now some they do and some they don’t
And some you just can’t tell
And some they will and some they won’t
With some it’s just as well

You can laugh at my behavior
That’ll never bother me
Say the devil is my savior
But I don’t pay no heed

And I will go on shining
Shining like brand new
I’ll never look behind me
My troubles will be few

(Goodbye stranger it’s been nice)
(Hope you find your paradise)
(Tried to see your point of view)
(Hope your dreams will all come true)
(Goodbye Mary, Goodbye Jane)
(Will we ever meet again)
(Feel no sorrow, feel no shame)
(Come tomorrow, feel no pain)

Sweet devotion,
It’s not for me
Just give me motion,
To set me free
Land in the ocean,
Far away
By my chosen,
Every day

Now I’m leaving,
Got to go,
Hit the road
I’m sayin’ once again,
oh yes I’m leaving
Got to go,
Got to go.
I’m sorry another day
But Goodbye Mary,
Goodbye Jane
Will we ever
Meet again

Oh I’m leavin’
I’ve got to go

Yesterday the girls went to play at friends house and I found myself with a few hours of me time. It’s something that has been happening more and more. They grow up. Thankfully! I found myself looking through the NetFlix instant queue for something to watch. I’m a documentary gal. It doesn’t matter what it’s about, if it’s low budget, out of the ordinary, or just plain strange I’ll watch it – and like it! That’s why I know so much about NYC health inspectors and California communes. That’s also why I know more about mens penises than most men. No need to get into that right now, though.

I looked through my instant queue but I wasn’t in the mood for stories about strip clubs or Mississippi jukes. I was too weary from the “Ground Zero” “mosque” bullshit for more Iraq war. I couldn’t handle more, why our food supply is fucked. I didn’t care why I was going to hell. I was about to leave and go play Farmville, or something, when I saw a suggestion. ‘No Impact Man’ recommended to you because of your interest in Food, Inc. and Howard Zinn. Food and Zinn? Really? Okay. I’ll watch it.

It wasn’t one of the best. I liked it and it was interesting but the experiences of a NYC couple with one young child didn’t mean much to a mommy of teenagers in the suburbs of Virginia. Does this guy realize I’d have to drive 30+ minutes out of my way for a glass bottle of milk. Unless we’re doing a science experiment, worm and the resulting flies belong in the ground, not my kitchen. My garden could run circles around his mentor’s plot. Everything they were talking about I’d heard before, ten years ago. Poopy head, I thought. And that was that.

Until I opened my email and attempted to get through the back log that has plagued me since early July. Take the No Impact Man One Week Challenge is what it shouted out to me in big bold letters. Coincidence? Fate? Nahh. More like good marketing but I said, “Alright No Impact Man what you got?”

Pretty much more of the same. Not one suggestion that I wasn’t already doing that would make sense in my life. Nothing that sparked an interest or even made me want to click through on a link. I’m getting old and crotchety. I don’t have a desire to change the world by stomping on my clothes in the bathtub. I’m particularly fond of toilet paper. I don’t feel that there is anything I personally could do or change to make any significant difference. I’m greened out and this disturbs me.

I’m sorry No Impact Man I wanted to believe but I’m too busy right now for your challenge. I have to weed my organic garden and make a batch of castille soap. Our three recycle trash cans and one waste trash can are kinda full. My compost pile needs turning. I need to write about spending three nights sitting on the beach with my family and watching sea turtles hatch. I don’t need someone trying to sell a book telling me how to save the world. I’ve trusted the advice of people who have practiced what they preach for decades and it has done well by me. Right now I just want to be left alone and do my own thing my own way. And my way involves electricity, hot water, and air conditioning. So what? Spank me.

I’ve been working on my vegetable garden plans.

This must be done while sitting on the floor and wearing wool socks. I think it's a law. Aren't my socks cute? They're the first (and only) pair I ever made for myself. I made them right after Christmas and I think I was unduly influenced by a candy cane.

I already started the seeds. There are peppers, broccoli, and of course tomatoes. They are being guarded by a penguin and a Steelers jersey. I think they'll be safe.

A whole tray of tomato seedlings. They look so sweet and innocent now. Just wait until they grow up.

Anyone else getting their garden plans together?

So far, I have eaten radishes plucked from my garden at the peak of readiness. I’ve sampled a few carrots and picked my first hot pepper. It was wonderfully hot. I have eaten so much fresh green lettuce that I can’t stand the sight of it anymore. I now grab full plants and pull them roughly from the ground. Then I sneak to the compost and throw them in. Die little suckers die! You are no longer welcome here.

I’m not sure what evil demon of nostalgia convinced me I needed a cornfield in my suburban backyard, but it’s doing well. The ears are just starting to fill out. Hopefully soon I’ll have some corn on the cob and corn stalks for Halloween decorations. It’s looking good.

The squash has finally decided to stop rotting on the vine and I should be cooking them up soon. I’m on my second harvest of broccoli, the cabbage is finally making heads, and three of the five potato buckets have been dumped out. This is all fine and good.

I made raspberry jam from the last of the raspberries and blackberry jam from the first of the blackberries. There are also four pints of plum sauce in my pantry. This makes me happy.

But those of you that know me best, and love me in spite of it, know that all of this is just a means of occupying myself until my true passion can be fulfilled. Yes, today is the day. The day of the fresh ripe tomato. I’m slightly overcome with emotion right now, but don’t fear. I found the corkscrew and I bought a bottle of Merlot with a chicken on it for the occasion. Life is good.

We’ve been busy getting my garden planted. I decided I wanted a real garden this year so we built three raised-bed planters and planted them.

Then I re-planted them. Twice. Damn Dogs!

I think the third time is the charm. We’ll see.

For some reason this is stuck in my head right now. Hence the title.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n4qVJnhZwWY&hl=en]

Also this

and this.

I might have to go put something sweet in my oven. And try and forget that late 80′s spiral perm phase I went through. Then I’ll need to go write a letter to the paper about how children today are listening to far too many sexually suggestive songs.

Has anyone ever sang this song sitting in the back of a pickup using a beer bottle as a microphone because they just broke up with ‘the only man they’ll ever love’? Just wondering. I’ve heard it can happen.

I’ve been neglecting you. I know. Feel free to scold at will. I’m kinda in the mood for that right now. To make up for my lack of posting I have prepared a quick summary of all the blog posts that were not posted.

I read some books

We had science experiment week

We took the pantry closet out of our kitchen and replaced the sliding glass door with a single door.

We went to see my brother and his new chicks.

MyHusband got a new job.

My potatoes came in the mail.

It was a very exciting week and I think they’d all make a good blog post. I might write about them later. Right now I’m kinda tired. I’m going to go eat baked beans and take a bubble bath. :)

“Sweet potato pie and I shut my mouth.”

Ok, they weren’t sweet potatoes and I’m not planning on shutting my mouth any time soon. But, that’s the song that came to mind and sometimes you just have to go with it. Even if it doesn’t work.

Today was ‘Tater Harvest Day. The vines of my potato plants have died back and that is the sign that harvesting must start. Harvest we did.

This year our garden center didn’t have seed potatoes so I bought them on-line from Wood Prairie Farm. They arrived quickly and were in great shape. I followed the directions that came with them.  The potatoes started growing like crazy almost as soon as they hit the dirt in the bottom of the barrel. It wasn’t long before they reached the top and all I had to do was water them and wait.

Today we went to harvest them. Harvesting is a two step process. Step 1 – dump out the trash can. Step 2 – listen to the kids giggle and scream as they dig through the dirt and earthworms to find their treasures. It’s kinds like an Easter egg hunt. Just very dirty. We enjoyed it.

We planted both red and white potatoes this year. The red did better than the white by about 4 to 1. I’m looking forward to fixing some of each for dinner tonight. The blue potatoes we planted last year were delicious.

Here is my potato plan for next year.

1. Instead of planting several plants in one large container, I think I’ll drill holes in the large drywall buckets, left over from the addition, and plant one in each.
2. I’ll convince my husband that having a row of drywall buckets full of potato plants along the side fence is not a sign of white trashdom.
3. I’ll start them just a few weeks earlier so they can get more growing time in before it gets really hot.
4. I’ll remember to water them more often.

Happy ‘Tater Harvest Day to everyone.

[Update: I have added a breathalizer to my laptop.  It will not boot if my blood alcohol level is above the legal limit for blogging.   My husband and I laughed so hard when I read him this post our sides hurt.  I had no idea I had so much to say about tomatoes!  I think some things should go unsaid. ]

I refuse to eat tomatoes in the month of May.  I’m holding out for a fresh ripe tomato. The ones that will be turning red in my garden in a few weeks. I hate store bought tomatoes. They taste like dishwater. I’ve never tasted dishwater. But they taste like I think dishwater would taste – after you’ve washed the spaghetti saucepot. I’ve never liked them.

There is something special about the first ripe tomato of the season. Tomato plants always start with just one tomato. I think they put all their effort into the first one. It always tastes the sweetest. I bet the tomato growers save that one for themselves.

Every year since the beginning of my home I have planted tomatoes. The first year I planted them in the back yard and they didn’t do well. The sunlight that was there in the early spring disappeared when the trees got all their leaves. Tomatoes need light. That’s a fact. I was wiser the following year. Those plants were planted in my front garden just right of the front door between the Azaleas and the Japanese Maple.

“Do you think the neighbors will laugh at the tomato cages in the flower garden” I asked my husband.

They didn’t even notice.

The next year I stepped it up a bit. In addition to tomatoes I planted bell peppers, a watermelon plant, garlic, and onions. I placed them strategically throughout the flower garden. One neighbor asked me about the pretty flower to the left of my front door. They were surprised when I told them it was garlic.

Next was a small patch of strawberries and two blueberry bushes. The only thing better than a fresh ripe tomato is a fresh ripe strawberry followed later by a batch of homemade blueberry ice cream. If the birds hadn’t eaten them, I would have enjoyed them. My sadness at the lack of berries was eased by the cardinal that decided to make it’s home in my dogwood tree. The blueberries were planted just a few feet away. Cardinals like blueberries. Every time I see the cardinal in my dogwood I think of a song, ‘Sweet Virginia Breeze’. I like that song. It’s by Robbin Thompson. I’d embed a youtube video but there isn’t one. I checked.

Now, back to the tomatoes. I know most people have a dignified way of eating tomatoes. That’s fine for just any tomato. But when you have the first tomato of the season it requires a slightly different approach.

I watch the tomato as it grows from just a little white bloom to a tiny green sphere. I water it. I weed around it. I wait. It grows larger and larger. Then it starts to change. It changes shape then it changes color. I watch as it turns orange, then red. I wait. If you pick it too soon it will be sour. If you pick I too late, it too late. You have to become one with the tomato. That’s the only way to know for sure. At just the right moment, at the peak of its ripeness, I will reach down and push the tomato with one hand. It will rock gently on its stem and fall into the other hand. The time has come.

I will walk with the prized tomato over to the hose and wash it. You never know if a dog has peed on it. Heck, Whit may have peed on it. He has a habit of doing things like that. Once it is clean I will dry it on my shirt and hold it towards the sun. The sunlight glistening on the first tomato is a sight for sore eyes. Gently, I will bring it to my mouth and sink my teeth into its soft yet somehow firm skin. My teeth will sink deep into the fruit. The sweet juices will dribble out. Into my mouth. Down my chin. The tasty goodness will overwhelm my senses. It’s the moment of reckoning. I reckon it is good. Actually, I know it is good. There is nothing quite like a perfectly ripe tomato straight from your garden.

So there you have it. The reason I refuse to eat a tomato in the month of May. They say abstinence makes the heart grow fonder, or something like that. I say the waiting for the best is time well waited. What do you say?

I hope you don’t say you can tell how much Merlot I’ve had to drink tonight. I like to keep my empty bottles well hidden. In the recycle bin of course.