she's just saying...

I has a spuragrus

Look, Mark! We finally made one!

(Mark was my gardening partner to whom I owe my many many garden beds of which I can't handle the upkeep.)

Just one. Not sure what happened to all the others. I can't bring myself to harvest it. I just go visit it now and then and feel very proud.

The whole garden has had a late start this year. I wonder why: could the snow this Saturday be one of the reasons? I think we hit 45 degrees as a high that day. That's all right - I'll be complaining about the heat in a few months.  I hope.  Happy Memorial Day!

Fiddlehead!

I'm feeling very earthy and springlike today, though it appears to be snowing outside again. I just got a precious pound of fiddlehead ferns. Fiddleheads are tightly spiraled fern fronds, not yet unfurled. These alien-looking curls are only available for about two weeks in May - that's it, so if you haven't gotten any yet, you're out of luck.

They are a New England delicacy in my mind, but here they are in Oregon. I scored mine from the Agricultural Connections, a community-supported agricultural group here in Bend who have some adventurous vegetable offerings as well as the basic stuff.

People describe fiddleheads as tasting a bit like asparagus, but they really don't. They taste very green and deep and mysterious, with an addictive texture and crunch. Trim, rinse and blanch, then saute with butter, salt & pepper, a little lemon and maybe some garlic. I served them over angelhair (seemed fittingly delicate), and maybe ate too many last night.

I hear that warm weather has arrived elsewhere on earth, but here in the mountains, it's still a rumored event. The flowers and trees are doing their best and the late evening light is stirring up the animals, but it's still in the 50's most days. We're getting a little tired of it, but given the weather elsewhere I'm not complaining. I'll just eat my way to summer - I hear Paradise Farm Stand has morels again...

Summer camp, already?

If you could relate to my posts about the hell of summer activity scheduling for Henry, this may be of interest.

"Big News! Bend Park & Recreation District is opening up summer registration for their recreation programs online on March 17^th  for district residents and April 1^st  for those who live outside the district. This is a big change. Normally, programs open in May. So, now you’ll have an extra month to plan what your kids will be doing this summer. Go online and be green on St. Patrick’s Day, March 17^th. To register go to https://register.bendparksandrec.org"

So now the signing-up part isn't so bad, it's just the scheduling and the paying for.

(Yes, I know this is last year's catalog cover - but I had to publish it one more time...)

An imperative date

This falls on a Friday, so it's a Friday Frylet!

A Calendar Riddle:

Question: What date in the calendar is also an order?

Answer?

Knitted Resolutions 2011

Hey - remember top ten Tuesdays? Me neither. But here's one now!

I made great knitting resolutions in 2009, and none in 2010. Maybe because none of the 2009 ones were kept, so they fit under my resolution-carryover rule. Anyway, here are some for 2011:

1. Finish my Christmas gift knitting (only four three to go!).
2. No more knit gifts for people unless specifically requested, and then maybe. If I think they're really going to wear it.
   
3. Finish my Solstice sweater before I start another big project.
4. Knit a complicated fair-isle something.
5. Learn a little more crochet.
6. Master the toe-up sock heel, or give it up entirely.
7. Start going to my knitting group meetings again. No, really.
8. Gift, trade or sell yarn I'm never going to use.
9. Knit from my stash - ha! 
10. And finally: knit whatever I want however I want to or not. 'Cause it's a hobby.

Jumping the season

Sure feels like time for a Friday frylet, those little tasty remnants at the bottom of the french fry bag. A little salty nibble at the end of the week!

 

 Remember this? The Weebles reenacting the creche scene in a snowy Jerusalem? (Last time I posted this it generated some fascinating comments about the weather in the Mid-East, I recall.)

Anyway, you're warned. The countdown has begun...

High Desert Under Labor Day Freeze Warning

News Story - KTVZ Bend.

I know - it sounds like a set-up for a joke, but it's not. Bring in the houseplants, cover the tomatoes. If you ask me we could use a touch more global warming in our neck of the woods for the next month or so...

Top Ten Tuesday: summer sounds edition

Favorite Sounds of Summer

1. Hummingbirds cheeping around my head while I sit on the patio
2. The sprinklers going on at night
3. Henry and his gang charging around on their bikes, yelling through the neighborhood
4. My waterfall trickling down the rock (i.e. working)
5. Deschutes Cascade Ale being poured into a glass
6. The ballgame, especially if my team is winning
7. A distant lawnmower on a Sunday afternoon (not too close to annoy)
8. Kids splashing and yelling at the pool while a lifeguard whistles
9. Brined, butterflied, barbequed chicken sizzling on the grill (recipe upon request)
10. The ice cream truck, playing "It's a Small World" -- well, maybe not so much.

OK, your turn to play: add some more!

Top Ten Tues: summer rerun edition

OK, so now it's August. I've blogged about my feelings about August previously, but this year it feels a little different. Summer came so late to Central Oregon that August is feeling like July. The town is praying that summer will stick around later than usual, which means no snow til November, please.

I was reading old posts and realized something profound: the reason this blog has gotten boring (in my opinion) is that life is pretty boring right now. No agonizing break-ups, no major surgery, no work drama, nothin' but good times. No complaints, but no inspiration. So I'm taking a blogger's perogative and rerunning some previous stuff.

So, what we eat in the summer. Recipes upon request. This list does not include the standard chicken/fish/shrimp on the grill that we have regularly. This is when I'm cool enough to cook and have the urge.

1. ratatouille with couscous
2. fish tacos
3. french potato salad
4. linguine alla vongole (clams to you)
5. greek salad - hold the bell peppers
6. gazpacho with shrimp: ditto
7. killer shrimp (stolen from the LA diner of the same name)
8. salad nicoise
9. the humble fresh tomato parsley parmesan omelet
10. grilled eggplant with soy sauce

I just realized that I've been making these same dishes for years. We don't eat beef, pork or lamb so it can be a challenge to come up with new menus. What do you cook when it's hot?

 

 

slap-happy summer

Note: I'm leaving this post up until I get some responses! Summer memories, people!

Up in our neck of the woods, spring came slowly and haltingly this year. It's always slower than everywhere else in the country, it seems, but this year was the coldest, wettest I remember. Summer finally showed up about July 5, and it's been truly lovely. Not too hot, until last weekend. And then the mosquitoes hatched.

The entire town is complaining - it's the number one comment on Facebook this week.

From our local news station:

Four Rivers Vector Control officials say the mosquitoes are overwhelming this year.

"This year we found that everything we looked at was hatching out all at once," said Four Rivers District Manager Chad Stubblefield. "In some places we even found 500 mosquitoes to a dip cup full of water."

You know it's bad when the westside Safeway (the big one) is SOLD OUT of mosquito spray. Really. The shelf was empty yesterday. I had to get some weird left-over brand. Hope it works.

On another summer note, it's been hot and even muggy with thunder and lightning. So it feels like a perfect time to play cards. Didn't you play cards in the summer growing up? War, Hearts, Rummy, Crazy Eights, I Doubt It, Uno?

Henry and I have different tastes in card games. I like a strategic game like gin rummy and thought he'd enjoy a simplified version of rummy for kids. He likes something called "SWAP!" which involves a lot of switching colors, swapping hands with the other player and slapping the discard pile.

So, we sit around these evenings, slapping mosquitoes and slapping cards, enjoying our Oregon summer and making memories. What are yours?

the old and the new

Jicama days

First of all, it's pronounced hee'-ca-ma. Not hick-a-ma, like hiccup. Everyone corrects me but I'm right about this one. Irritating. It's Spanish, people!

Anyway, it's a big root.

I first encountered jicama when we lived in Mexico City during my sixth grade. The jicama man would push his cart down the street, and we'd run out and buy a slice with salt, lime juice and chili powder on it. Now that I think of it, that's a pretty odd thing to sell from a cart, as it's about the easiest thing possible to prepare other than peeling. 

So that's how I prepare it, accompanied by a cerveza, chips and salsa. Perfect on a hot summer night like tonight with the ballgame on.

a bald eagle kind of evening

For further proof that I'm not always a sloth, Henry and Dana and I loaded up the canoe yesterday at 5 pm and headed to Sparks Lake for an evening picnic. It was a perfect little excursion.

Henry showed off his mad canoeing skillz and Dana and I went along for the ride.

And to top it all off, we watched a bald eagle watching over the lake all evening. 

The drive (26 miles one way) was so lovely that we did it twice, as somebody forgot his water shoes at the boat ramp and we had to go back and get them. We did the math in the car and yes, that was 104 miles. Very peaceful wilderness miles, but still...

S'mores

We've got a thing for s'mores around here. For those of you who never went to scout camp or just arrived on this planet, a s'more is a graham cracker sandwich made with a melting marshmallow and piece of Hershey's chocolate. You're supposed to toast the marshmallow on a stick over coals, but nuking the whole thing in the microwave works in a pinch.

Controversies surround the proper toasting technique. I prefer the perfect golden melting perfection achieved through careful patient toasting. Then there are those philistines who like to immolate their marshmallow into a flaming sugar inferno, which not only tastes burnt but causes cancer. Seriously.

I bought s'more makings for our family gathering last week and we enjoyed watching three 20-somethings turn into 11-yr-olds again along with the actual 11 yr-old in attendance. My cousin Rafe had the toasting technique down - I was quite impressed.

I also learned that it's really hard to shoot a pure white object next to a pure black object with a point-n-shoot camera.

artsy

life in the south

Well, hello there, y'all (spoken very slowly). Sorry I've been out of touch - I've been on vacation at my parents' in North Carolina and the outside world has kind of faded away. Maybe it's the humidity, maybe it's the south, maybe it's because I don't have my computer, but I never seem to be able to post from here.

Things move slow here, including me. It's hot and muggy. And even when it's not hot it's muggy. I'm always amazed at the humidity, coming from the high desert. It's like living underwater. Everything is limp. Paper, clothes, cereal, my brain, the cat. With the notable exception of my hair, which is having a party all by itself.

Plus I've been busy. We've been cooking, hanging by the pool, knitting, comparing mosquito bites, making huge pots of food, buying groceries, cooking more food, pulling weeds, discussing dinner, cleaning up after dinner, marveling at loathsome bugs, writing shopping lists, reading, making lunch, watching soccer and tennis, stopping at various farm stands for more vegetables, sewing, going to the supermarket and oh yes, cooking. See? Way too busy to blog.

How does anything ever get done in the south? I'll post after I get home and dry up.

When bikes attack

Well, summer has finally arrived here -- it's been two nights since we've had to turn the heat on. The local visitor bureau has determined that cyclists are the niche of choice for its marketing efforts and the streets are jammed with fiercely lycra-clad racers as well as a more casual wheeling crowd. There also seem to be a lot more young adults on little bitty bikes in my neighborhood as well, which was recently explained by my neighbor as being due to a rash of DUI's at the end of the school year. At least they're only behind two wheels now vs. four.

I have a bike. I bike downtown, to the store, to concerts etc. I don't do it a lot, but I can. I've mentioned my deficient cycling skills here previously, which I blame on the geography of my childhood home, growing up at the top of a long, narrow, winding hill with poison ivy in the ditches, ducking out-of-control suburban station wagons driven by moms hopped up on caffeine and late to the PTA meeting.

However, I've gradually realized that something more nefarious is going on.

Bikes don't like me. They sense my fear and it turns them mean.

When I'm around them they tend to jump out and attack my legs, leaving scrapes and bruises even when I haven't tried to ride them.

I'm not exaggerating. This was recently witnessed at the farm stand when a strange bike bit my shin. I had my hand out for it to sniff and everything. I hadn't even made eye contact.

My current bike is a gentle old nag who is pretty kind, though it's been known to throw me at intersections. And when it smells alcohol on my breath (say, after concerts), it likes to buck and rear, then stand by and snicker. I can show you the scars.

Loose morels

Morels are a type of wild mushroom that grow in the Northwest in the spring. Their flavor is deep and mysterious and substantial, and they look really cool too, like little alien coneheads.

There's an underground culture of mushroom pickers here in Central Oregon who jealously guard their picking spots, so really it's easier to pick them down at our local farmstand. Adam gets them from a picker on his way back into town every day, and sells them dirt cheap. 

For some odd reason most morel recipes online involve saltine crackers, bread crumbs, or even corn flakes. All you need to do is saute them in butter or olive oil. You can add some shallots, parsley, garlic and lemon juice, a splash of white wine, serve them on toast or whatever. Or eat them with a fork right out of the pan.

The morels of the story

(Puns: the last refuge of lame writers.)

The year without spring

What's that white stuff drifting down through the sunshine out there? Volcanic ash? Really big juniper pollen? Why no, it's snow!

Yes, snowing on May 20th. Welcome to Central Oregon, on the High Desert. We're actually so used to it that it didn't cause much interest. And it is sunny, so it's not that bad.

Next it will turn in the space of a week to a hot dry summer. Our seasons change rather abruptly here. When I first arrived (15 years ago this month), I was so dismayed at the short planting season that I stopped gardening for a year or so. 

This is a post about the weather because the two other fascinating topics I thought up in the car have already fled my mind. Have I talked about how I have no memory? I can't recall. Anyway, I don't. Have any memory. I've tried to hide it for years, but now I just tell people straight out and I'm off the hook. Sort of a charming eccentricity, is how I like to see it.

And don't tell me to do crosswords. I've lost many precious hours of my life that I'll never get back puzzling over Sudoku squares. What worries me is that I still have 40 more years to go, if my parents are any indication. So please wear a nametag when you come to visit me in the old folks home. And when you run into me in the supermarket, it would help if you gently remind me who you are.

I'll post again when I remember those other two topics. I do recall they were really good.

Sure sign of spring: farm stand!

For those of you reading from below the 44th parallel, you must be wondering why we're still looking for signs of spring. Maybe it's the snow we had on Monday or the frost this morning, but we don't seem to quite be there yet. I'll take any sign that spring is returning to Central Oregon, and have spotted the best so far: the farm stand on my street has opened again.

You may remember my embarrassingly gushing post about my farm stand (I like to call it "my" farm stand, though I'll happily share it). But over the winter I watched concernedly while changes were happening to the closed stand. It was painted in bright yellows and orange, a new name was posted, the shack got a little construction work. It looked like new owners had bought it, and my heart sunk. 

Well, it's been open for a few weeks now and I've avoided it, afraid to see what out-of-town ag conglomerate had taken it over. (Okay, so I'm a little paranoid. It's my farm stand!) Yesterday on the way home from work I was hankering for a head of lettuce so pulled in and prepared to face reality. And there was my pal Adam!! I honestly can't tell you how relieved I was. It made my day.

It's now called Paradise Produce. Adam and a friend have leased some organic farm land and are getting serious about bringing in fresh-picked organic produce. As Adam said today, "We cut 20 head of lettuce this morning and it's all gone already!" 

There's a list of about 60 different products they're carrying.  The stand is mostly organic, and they've started a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture for those of you who avoid vegetables, and I'm looking at you, YrBigSis.)

I'm planning to volunteer my mad marketing skillz in exchange for peaches and tomatoes, so expect to hear a lot more about it.

Twelve kinds of tomatoes: I'm obsessed.

The most happiest day of the year

Um, no, not Easter. I like it and all, the bunnies, the chocolate, the jelly beans, the Easter dresses. In fact, here's me in an adorable Easter outfit from the distant past:

Am I cute or what?

Though apparently I'm indicating to my parents that my purse is empty. Always subtle, that's me.

Where were we? Oh yes, the most happiest day of the year!

That would be Opening Day! Of the baseball season! Today! Yankees vs. Red Sox at Fenway!

What could possibly be better?  Assuming the Bosox win, of course. It's okay, we got the whole season ahead of us. This is the year, hope springs eternal, we'll show them this time and all that. Everyone's an optimist today. Or tomorrow, when all the other teams start play. So, it's time to...

PLAY BALL!

Easter? So soon?

It's Easter! and you know what that means: time for my annual Easter joke. (I only have about four jokes in my repertoire, so by necessity have to repeat them.) I've been preparing for it all day (that's a hint).

Those of you who were reading last year, please stand back and let the new kids play.

Ahem. Here goes:

Q.  What do you get when you pour boiling water down a rabbit hole?

A: 

Got it? Written answer tomorrow.