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Things I wish I had in my garden

These Chinese dogwood trees have been blooming at the post office all week. Every day, when I go to get our mail they take my breath away.

Of course I love the flowers, but I also love the leaves and the shape of the small trees. I can't believe I never noticed these before, or perhaps I have, but since I wasn't thinking about gardening they just slipped my mind.

I would love to have a couple; I'm not one to want one of much of anything when it comes to the garden. I have no idea where I would put them though, really there is little room for trees unless I rip out part of the woodland overgrowth at the edges of the property. But I want these to be somewhere where I see them daily, not on the fringes.

Perhaps, if I ever pull out the Cottonwood tree, which is in the island in the middle of our driveway, I can plant small trees around the island with a patio in the middle? But the cottonwood is not about to go. G is completely unwilling to have it taken down because it is the only large tree that provides shade in that half of the yard and in fact the cottonwood and a large Maple at one corner of the house are the only two trees that provide any shade to the house.

The cottonwood is in a location where it does not impede any of my neighbor's views of the Hudson. If it did, I would have to cut it down, or top it at 20 feet, according to the covenant which comes as part of residing in this neighborhood. There is no other place I could plant a large tree, and I am not sure that it is important enough that I would pay the cost of bringing in a tree large enough to replace the shade of the cottonwood. Perhaps a collection of small shrubs and decorative trees, perhaps an arbor as well, around a patio would be the perfect plan. But I have to really track the sun's path. I don't need another patio or deck with the hot afternoon sun beating down on it, and I am not sure the house alone will provide enough shade to offer the afternoon respite now afforded by the large tree.

No rush anyway. My gardening plans tend to be of the very long term variety.

June 9, 2009
Self-indulgent twaddle

I had plans for a different kind of post today. But those plans were waylaid. I thought I would write last night, but last night's attempts at writing yielded nothing but a bunch of incoherent and self-indulgent twaddle. I had plans for today and already the plans have fallen apart and I want nothing more than to crawl into a hole (or perhaps my shoe closet) and hide from the world. And yet, I need to sort out the raging turmoil in my head. Self-indulgent I may be, but the words go on.

I had thought that I was finally growing up, that I was getting a grip on the world and who I was in that world. I thought I was finally accepting who I am, what I think, what I like, and why I like the things I like and think the thoughts I think. After a couple of really hard years I had decided that I made too many decisions in my life based on what other people wanted me to be, or what I perceived other people wanted me to be. In the midst of all the madness and upset and unhappiness that was the last few years I found that I didn’t know who I was, and I suspected that everything I thought was me was actually a mask, my trying to be something other than my full self to please someone else whom I wanted to please, to make peace, to bridge the differences, to avoid conflict.

Eventually I realized that I couldn’t be that person anymore, whoever that person was, and in that realization I started, just started mind you, realizing what I actually liked. I also realized that this “I” had always been there, but I hadn’t always let her out, keeping her locked up deep inside, protected from the world, so protected in fact, that there were times when I forgot where I put her. And I wondered why, as I approached 50, I was still coming to terms with adolescent angst and self-doubt. I guess I have always been a late bloomer.

So I have been rediscovering myself, and feeling stronger and more certain in that discovery. But there was something I forgot to take into consideration and that was how the people I love would react to my newfound strength and certainty. I assumed, obviously naively, that if I figured out who I was everything would be easier and happier. I did not consider fully. It is one of my faults, my avoidance of conflict, my wish to apologize or forgive bad behavior, my steadfast belief that if everyone tries we can all get along. Deep in my heart I continue to believe this even as I also feel that the world is a chaotic unpredictable place and that people are not all nice and you cannot predict how anyone will react to anything. I want the place called home to be a bubble of peace in a chaotic world. And this is where things fall apart.

What happens if that home is built on the shifting sands of doubt rather than the rock of conviction? If I spent so much of my life modifying my feelings and thoughts to please others, why did I think they would be happy with who or what I really am? And did I believe that being myself would avoid conflict, when for years I avoided conflict by modifying my own thoughts to fit in with those around me? For years I would never say if I really liked or disliked something because I was afraid someone would disagree. Well that was silly of me, and I recognize that it was silly. So I started writing about things I like or dislike here, starting with concerts, in a place cut-off from my physical life. But what I failed to consider is that once I became comfortable with having opinions, I might actually express these same opinions in my real life, not just here in the disconnected part of my life that is cyberspace.

Apparently, like everything else in my life, I jumped right in without considering the consequences and now the dye has been cast. I can’t go back to being the person I was (or wasn’t fully) but I am not sure I like all the consequences of being myself either. And so it appears I have backed myself into a corner. I want my opinions but I hate discord. It seems I can’t have one without the other.

My newfound independence of mind has come at a time of great personal turmoil. My partner found himself ill, retired, and unprepared for either. Before, his world was a simple place; there was Right and there was Wrong with precious little in between. He saw himself firmly on the side of Right: right beliefs, right thoughts, and right taste. He always thought I would grow up to join him in the wisdom of the Right, and he forgave my differences of opinion as youthful frivolities; and I, I continued to let him believe this, as I constantly readjusted my thoughts and feelings to better fit his expectations.

Where once I modified my opinions in the interest of peace, I found that I could no longer do so if so doing meant I had to sublimate who I am. I have always seen the world as mostly gray, and I am learning to accept that just because the world is gray does not mean that I am not allowed to have opinions about that world. Whether these opinions are right or wrong is not as important as the fact that they are mine.

And so occasionally we have a meeting of the waters of sorts, like the waters of the Amazon dumping into the waters of the Atlantic Ocean, swirling around each other, but not always coming together into one. I suppose I have to accept that a gray world sometimes has its share of thunderstorms. I love to sit out and watch a thunderstorm roll across the sky. I wonder why I abhor them in my personal life?

But after the thunder and the lightning comes the rain.

June 8, 2009
What’s for Lunch

Finally a sunny day.

And an alfresco lunch:

Local sugar snap peas, shrimp, and bell pepper in a simple dressing made of rice wine vinegar and grapeseed oil with a little pressed and minced ginger root.

June 4, 2009
New Shoes

I always struggle with the issues of comfort versus style in terms of shoes. I love summer sandals, both flat and with heels but I do also occasionally need to walk and then comfort comes into play. Luckily I live a mostly suburban life revolving around a car so my choice of footwear is not critical. But, as I continue to battle episodes of hives and accompanying angiodema of the feet, I find myself relying on a trusty old pair of Mephisto sandals that I bought three years ago for casual summer comfort and have loved ever since.

As you can see they are beginning to show their age, and although they may last through the summer I don't think they will see another. Unfortunately I haven't found a current style that fits my admittedly picky standards and is also available in my all to common (39) size. It seems that, athough summer weather is just beginning, the summer shoe season is nearing its close, at least in the stores.

I like the shiny patent but I haven't found a patent Mephisto that I like; in fact I have found few Mephistos with the latex/foam sole and I am loathe to try the cork, fearing it is too hard. I have had bad experiences trying Birkies; they always cause great pain at the metacarpal heads, which when combined with my already high arches, my natural turn-out, and my tendency (although usually only when my back is sore) to roll to the outside of my foot, makes them not only uncomfortable but dangerous, as I roll over and trip on the thick sole.

Sigh.

Still, I have found two new pairs of sandals that I think I may love, although they don't quite replace the old favorites.

These shiny red patent sandals are quite comfortable (I am wearing them today) and G likes the color. They are a little more red than they appear in this photo, actually the exact same shade as my favorite "Bogota Blackberry" OPI nail polish. Unfortunately my toes currently sport a clashing shade of red. I see a pedicure in my future.

These are quite comfy and they fit snugly, but comfortably, so they don't flop around on my feet. I am not sure if they would be good for a day walking around a city, say NYC; the high t-strap of the Mephisto's was good at keeping them in place, but they might work quite well.

I also got these elegant metalic thongs from J. Donald Pliner. I had been coveting them since I saw them in a Neiman Marcus Catalog which I subsequently lost. When I found them on Zappos I was quite happy. I really like the lines of the sandal and they seem to be comfortable as well. The sole is firmer than either the Mephisto or the Taryn Rose, but the shape and support are good for me and I think they will be good to wear.

Now these shoes also come in a black leather, although not patent, and I am contemplating ordering them. But I really like the patent on my old faithful pair. Taryn Rose makes the same sandal as the red one in patent, but I think I like the lines of these Donald Pliner sandals better, it just seems more elegant and more "dressed" to me.

I think I will have to think about this a little bit. Should I order black, or should I just wait and figure that the perfect shoe will appear either in the summer sales or next spring?

June 3, 2009
Poppies!

Three weeks ago, Sunday last, I was struck dumb at the glorious sight of a flower bed full of poppies in full bloom, glowing in the midday sun. I was insanely jealous. I wanted poppies, fields of poppies. And the worst part of it was that MY poppies were not blooming. Immediately I started fretting and berating myself at my lackadaisical gardening habits over the last few years, never mind that I had good reason.

Of course, reason eventually took hold. I looked at my two remaining poppies (the rest were lured to their deaths by an early false-spring in January 3 years ago). They were huge. Each one had one single flower stalk at that point. I would have poppies, although perhaps only few.

But why? The Rhinebeck poppies were in a narrow flower bed sandwiched between a parking lot and a brick wall painted deep dark red. The flower bed was south facing and the concrete and brick would hold the suns warmth. They were also probably put in by a landscaping service as there is something new in their place now.

And my poppies did bloom, as evidenced by the photo above. And they each sent up more than one blossom, probably around a dozen or so each. They did not bloom all at one time, but I have had several poppies in bloom constantly for the last 10 days or so. When I replace the departed poppy plants, there will eventually be more, and more again as I move on with my gardening and landscaping plans.

I can be a glutton for pretty flowers.

The Azaleas are also in bloom now. This one is called Yaku Princess. It is right next to my front door so I get to enjoy it every day as I walk by, and it is directly in view of my kitchen window.

Beneath the azaleas I found this small lily of the valley, only one, and I searched my brain to figure out how it got there.

I tried planting lily of the valley years ago and they all died, of course the front yard was dark and dank then, all clay and moss; completely unwelcoming. I knew even less about gardening. I may have purchased this one on a whim at the botanical garden last year, thinking I could at least plant one thing and see if it took. I'd say it did. Perhaps there should be a few more.

June 2, 2009
Music Monday

Somewhere along the line it seems that I stopped writing about concerts we have attended, and although I have thought about writing about things I was listening to and thinking about, I never quite managed to get around to it.

Then, on Friday, I took M and grandson Owen to LaGuardia. On the way home I listened to my own music pretty much for the first time in a week and it struck me that no matter how much I loved the company, and no matter how nice Owen’s music was, music for a 2 ½ year old is still rather simple and repetitive, and I really missed playing my own music. Luckily for me I had a 2 hour drive home, alone in the car with my CD changer, allowing for a perfect bit of musical indulgence.

I had intended to listen a couple of new albums, new to me at least. We now have one of those little tape jobbies that allow you to connect your Ipod to the car stereo, which had been used to play Owen’s music in the car, and I was looking forward to listening to some new sounds on the way home, but the new album was grating in the car: the base rumbled, the high notes were shrill. I have a pretty decent car stereo but a car stereo, combined with road noise is not the best music venue; it is not as good as an Ipod with headphones, which in turn is not as nice as a really good stereo with decent speakers, and it was not suitable for the album in question. I will report on that another time

What did I listen to? Old favorites in my CD Changer. Hazmat Modine’s Bahamut and a CD reissue of two Delbert McClinton albums: Victim of Life’s Circumstances and Genuine Cowhide. Both are old and familiar, and yes, repetitious. I have listened to them more times than I can count, and will continue to listen again and again.

I’ve had Bahamut a couple of years now (it came out in 2006) and I absolutely love it. It makes me profoundly happy every time I listen to it. In the car, it perks me up and I sing along and bounce (very subtly) in my seat as I drive. I learned about the group from an e-mail conversation with several friends revolving around Tuvan throat singers, who perform on three of the songs, accompanied by drums, tuba, and Hawaiian steel guitar. As you can see, it is not quite what you would expect. In fact the whole album is not quite what you would expect and yet it is also completely accessible and comfortable, somehow bridging that gap between surprise and familiarity in a way that seems perfectly natural, at least to me.

I really don’t know how to classify this album although I tend to think of it as heavily blues based. I’d describe it as gritty delta blues with a heavy dose of harmonica and New Orleans jazz, with a touch of calypso, klezmer music, Native American, and other influences. Just writing all this makes it seem so pretentious and “arty” but that is not the effect I get. I love Wayne Schuman’s vocals, he is marvelous on the harmonica, and I suspect that he is the glue that ties everything together. “Lost Fox Train” is a fabulous harmonica solo which made me wish I could share it with Owen (maybe someday) who is fascinated with harmonica right now (and drums). There are moments of pure Blues, and moments that kind of hazily merge word fusion with blues and traditional forms. It is pure happiness, but happiness tinged with knowledge of the darker edges of the world.

As for Delbert McClinton, he is something else entirely; although there are definitely blues influences in both of these albums. I guess I would call it kind of a rockin' country/blues hybrid. I discovered Delbert McClinton in college in New York, even though he is Texan and I am Texan. At the time McClinton’s music seemed amazing to me, music I certainly had never encountered in the traditional country music world where I grew up or in the art-rock, big band swing milieu of my college “set”. I spent my summers in Texas searching out his older albums in record bins and used record stores, and when half of my record collection was stolen (including Delbert) the summer after graduation, I was heart-broken. Gradually Delbert drifted to the back of my mind.

When I discovered that Victim of Life’s Circumstances/Genuine Cowhide and been reissued in a single CD I was eager to give it a try and I was thrilled to learn that the music speaks to me as much now as it did 30 some odd years ago. If anything I am more impressed now at how really remarkable the songs are. McClinton wrote all the songs on Victim of Life’s Circumstances, and they are just marvelous. The album’s hard-stomping, rocking country music shows deep influence of blues, R&B, and funk and fits McClinton’s Texas twang perfectly. When I listen to these albums today, I can see why they were so hard to find at the time; they are like nothing else I remember. The second album, Genuine Cowhide, is a mixture of a couple of original songs with a collection of some of the great R&B and Blues covers. It must have seemed outrageous in 1976. McClinton makes each song work, and he makes the entire album seem of a piece. Each song is recognizable for itself and yet each one is also perfect McClinton. This album was my introduction to Blues and R&B and it lead me to explore these genres further, and yet it still stands on its own. There is more R&B and Blues here than probably any Texas White Boy could have been expected to pull off, and it smokes and rolls.

It is definitely not music for a 3 year old. But it is music that speaks to the heart of a 50 year old, perhaps even more so than it did to her youthful former self.

June 1, 2009
Cotton, Cotton everywhere

Memorial Day is widely held to be the beginning of summer.

This year it was also the first day of Cottonwood Season.

Now there are piles of cotton everywhere: hanging in big tufts in the trees and scattered everywhere about the driveway and the walks, floating on the surface of the pool, pressed up against the grates of the condensing unit for the air conditioner. The AirConditioning system always gets its annual service after Cottonwood Season.

Our one cottonwood tree is fairly old, over 30 years, and large pieces of it break off in every summer thunderstorm or in the occasional winter ice storm. I used to worry that it would fall on the house, but no more, although it is still large, I don't think there is enough of it left to do major damage. In fact I would be happy if enough of it fell down that we had to replace it.

T he problem is what I would I plant in its place? A big magnolia? I would love a big old magnolia although it is possible it might be just as much a pain to clean up after. I console myself by thinking the actual blossoms would be prettier and would make my heart sing. Of course, I am not replacing the cotton wood yet and when it does go it will take a substantial portion of the shade in the front of my house.

Still every year when the cotton falls I wish it were a different tree.

(magnolia image courtesy of White Flower Farm)

May 26, 2009
Happy Memorial Day

Every year my town has a big parade on Memorial and it is one of those local events where everyone turns out and all the local organizations and groups march along, the town police drive slowly flashing their lights, and the firetrucks sound off their sirens and horns for the town's children. It is not big on floats, although there are a couple, but it is big on community spirit. The young people at one of the local churches sell refreshments, and a large sample of the town's children participate: the scout troops, the karate and marshall arts classes, the dance students, everyone is ready to march and perform and the crowd of mostly local residents is happy to cheer and applaud their efforts. Really, it is just right in terms of parades, and it was just right for a small child's first parade.

So this Memorial Day morning Owen and Grandma capped off a lovely morning of playing and counting and helping Grandpa gather up the cardboard boxes for recycling with a trip to town to watch the annual Memorial Day Parade. Mom was able to join us as she returned home from the walk-in clinic, where she found out she has strep (poor Mom), just before they closed the main street town so the parade could begin.

Owen had a good time watching all the hullabaloo which included some dance and karate demonstrations, balloons, flags, candy, and the aforementioned fire trucks.

Grandma noticed that the high school band ambled along in a way that would have never been acceptable for band members at her high school in Texas, where marching drill was an important part of band culture. But the parade was fun nonetheless despite the lack of precision and fanfare.

After the parade we all convened at home where, sun-dazed and hungry, we fell upon a luncheon of gazpacho and Bouchons au Thon and then collapsed, ready for the first lazy summer afternoon.

May 25, 2009
Wearing my Grandma Hat, Day 1

I'm wearing my grandma hat and am having a wonderful, if exhausted
time. First I was up too much getting ready. Then there was the 4
hour drive home fromLGA yesterday, a trip that normally takes two hours or less. I console myself by thinking that the first half of the trip, LGA to the city of Scarsdale
, took 2 hours, a trip normally in the vicinity of 30 minutes. This
makes the last half of the trip seem more reasonable. No need to
remind me why I am happy to no longer have to commute anywhere near NYC.

Grandson
Owen has arrived with a cold and has been short on sleep for two days.
So we are planning very quiet days to start off. So far though he has
been patient and very kind to the kitties and has made kitty-friends. It helped of course that he gave them treats and picked out presents for each of them at the pet store.

Today we baked a birthday cake for Grandpa, and Owen decorated it. Later he helped Grandpa blow out the candles.

Grandma's camera battery died just before the big candle-blowing scene
though, so she only got a picture of the cake. Needless to say, the
cake was just as yummy as it looks. Owen can come apprentice in
Grandma's kitchen whenever he likes.

May 22, 2009
Happy Birthday to G

It is sunny today, for the first time in what seems like ages, although it has probably been only about 6 days, maybe a week since the last sunny day. Although I like those partly cloudy days I had been hoping for more sun so that the pool would warm up. Cloudy cool days and nights in the 30's do not make for a warm swimming pool. This is especially true since have the solar heater turned off because it has a significant leak.

I am happy it is sunny because I think it should be sunny for G's birthday. Of course every day is someone's birthday, but I don't think it should be sunny every day. So I suppose that is arrogant and inconsistent, that I want it to be sunny for my friends, but not for yours. Actually I do think everyone should have a happy birthday, but I wouldn't want to live somewhere where every day was sunny. I would be incredibly happy if it were cool and cloudy on my birthday, but since my birthday is in July, that is not particularly likely to happen.

But back to the birthday.

G asked for this salad for his birthday lunch. It is one of his favorite summer into fall salads.

The recipe is here: Fried Mozzarella with arugula and prosciutto. This past Sunday we had this salad for the first time this season, with fresh mozzarella and fresh local arugula. Of course there are no local peppers yet, and there are never local olives. I didn't happen to have the ham on hand but the salad was wonderful anyway. G asked if he could have it again for his birthday, so I made sure to get the ham, except that I got Spanish Serrano Ham, which we prefer to the prosciutto.

The sweet man I married said he would rather eat at home saying my cooking was better than most restaurant food. I disagree, but still, I can't help but be flattered.

The yellow irises are also in bloom. The first few opened next to the house and were promptly beaten down by a huge rainstorm Sunday night, about an inch and a half of rain fell in an hour or two. But those that were still just buds remained standing, and the purple irises remained standing as well, even though they were already blooming. This makes me wonder now, was it the rain, or something else. The yellow irises that were beaten down are near the earliest blooming of the purple irises. Perhaps the purple blossoms were spent and limp, providing no resistance to the onslaught of water.

May 20, 2009