Elimination

Sometimes too much is, well, too much.

Louise and her friend Lori came over to my garden expressly to rape and pillage, but only in the friendliest of ways. Lori recently lost her garden to a divorce and I am all about helping women to get their gardening mojo back after something as undesirable as a divorce and all of the financial set backs that go with them.

So I let go of a lot of day lilies, silver king artemesia, catmint, campmanula glomerata (clustered bell flower to those who flunked Latin), Egyptian onion, echinacea, my beloved Coronation Gold yarrow and on and on. Although Lori drew the line at hosta.... "I like everything but hosta" which sounded suspiciously like Tigger announcing that Tiggers like everything but thistle.

Where I am going with this is that I am always so selfish about my plants. I have a hard time digging, dividing and then giving away. Just ask my boyfriend. I won't even let him cut flowers from the garden. But after letting go of some of my plants I was surprised that my garden didn't look denuded. As a matter of fact, It looked refreshed and even under control.

I took the hint so the next day I moved a few ladies mantle and hostas from the front of the house to a new garden, ripped out some egyptian onions that were in the wrong place. It felt less packed in and the individual plants were allowed to shine.

So many gardeners fall in love with this plant and that plant and cease to see how they work together. Plants are stuffed in where ever the fit. I am slowly creating swathes of certain plants to make a larger visual display- meant to be seen from the distances that my yard offers. It means eliminating things that don't live up to their promise or don't look good or just look too meager. It is a lesson I occasionally brush up against in the rest of my life too.

In the words of a Scottish museum guard to me after I elbowed my way to front of a line (unknowingly)- "Bash on, lassie. Bash on." And don't forget to let go.

Time For A Tune Up

Sometimes when my dog is walking it looks like his front tie-rods are shot. Do cars even have tie-rods anymore?

Falling Off the Wagon, So To Speak....

If you need some great photos to illustrate this post- go here. But I suspect this is an image we all keep deep in our minds... right next to nude celebrities.

For almost ten years being a celiac has defined my life, or at the very least defined my diet. I have been unable to eat wheat, oatmeal, rye, spelt, barley or any of the other grass based grains. Admittedly I am self diagnosed... but only after multiple specialists either gave me a perfunctory once over and announced IBD or others who ran me through a battery of upper GI's and any other humiliating probe they could think of before shrugging their shoulders and saying "IBD." Cutting gluten out of my diet had given me the greatest amount of relief from my symptoms.

In mid-April I had yet another major (for me) medical crisis and had to have a tooth pulled. The tooth had grown into my sinus where it had caused an infection in my jaw. There was a good chance this had been an infection for quite sometime. Within days I noticed that things were, shall we say, quite regular. Over the years I had experienced occasional, albeit brief periods of digestive normalcy but to experience such an extended period of things working as the textbooks say they should - unheard of!

Days, weeks and then months passed without terrible pain in my stomach. My curiosity piqued I tried a bagel. I waited 4 days. Then I tried another. Still no problem. Since then I have tried any number of things which usually have me running in the other direction- pasta, bread, cookies.

We have started incorporating wheat products into our evening meals.... and one of those meals I have dreamed of for years is Macaroni & Cheese. This is a lowly pleasure from childhood- neither fancy nor precious. It was served frequently but was always welcome. Tonight the boyfriend & I made it together....

It has been so long since I cooked anything like this I have forgotten how it is made. He definitely had his ideas about how it should be done. While there is no such thing as bad Mac & Cheese- there are only degrees of goodness, I have a fondness for my mother's way of cooking everything to just shy of burnt. The top should be very crunchy and the brown of mahogany. The interior should be thick & cheesy.

I think gluten/wheat does not agree with me 100%... sort of the way I get canker sores if I eat too much citrus, but it is definitely back in my diet. I think I shall start experimenting with the best Mac & Cheese Evar'. The better to sooth my dainty stomach.

If Some Is Good, More Is Better

I have addressed garden ornamentation recently so I thought I would write a little ode to my boyfriend's style of ornamentation.



His ornamentation philosophy runs towards those things that move and thus scare away vegetable & fruit predators ... like these saber tooth Cedar Waxwings that think domesticated strawberries, which are in a convenient patch, are much easier hunting than those little, indigenous ones that are spread hither and thither over our acreage.

This is the strawberry patch which has a spinning poly-Cardinal and a poly-Peacock that sort of limps as it lost a few tail feathers. The garden also has two dangling, plastic, spinny things and a faux owl. As you can see we have also posted Henry out there to work for his dinner by keeping any marauding chipmunks at bay.


The boyfriend's other penchant is for gargoyles. These serve to keep out the evil spirits- both in general and for the gardens. We have them inside the house too. Actually the big guy in the patch of Campanula Glomerata is my personal gargoyle purchased pre-boyfriend so clearly I also felt a need for a little spiritual look out.

Poor, Poor Peonies

When flowers only bloom once a season, albeit for two weeks, they become a much anticipated event. When something interferes with the annual bloom, it becomes a source of despair.

This spring several of my peony plants developed buds that just stopped growing and then proceeded to dry up. Sometimes whole plants were affected, sometimes just portions.

My hunt on line indicated two possible causes. One is botrytis blight, but that supposedly affects the whole plant. My peonies only have affected buds.

The other is a condition called bud blast. This can be caused by a couple of things, but the most likely cause of my problem is that we had frosts up until late-May. This can interfere with the growth of the bud.

I suppose it is better to suffer the Horseman of the Apocalypse Death than the Horseman of the Apocalypse Disease.

Night Out

I don't go out very often- for various reasons. Chief among those reasons is that I always have my dog with me and if it is too hot or too cold I can't leave him in the car. I don't do this often so I don't feel too guilty about abandoning my little muffin to the privations of a 4 seated vehicle with complete protection from the elements and any marauding tigers.

After the last opening at my gallery Michelle and I stepped across the street to Hermanos for a nibble and a tipple. There was a big Don McLean concert at the CCA and it is motorcycle week in NH so service was mighty slow. It took forever to get a drink and even longer to get some nachos, but, you know what? I didn't care. Michelle & I had a lot of catching up to do. If they had served us any faster we wouldn't have been able to drive home.

We laughed, we gestured, we made fun of each others flaws, we used improper language and we laughed some more. It is good to do that once in a while with a female friend. I think both of us needed to leave it all behind for a few hours.

Then we made our way back to our cars. Michelle was shocked at Henry's level of neediness after a two hour break. There was whining, crying, jumping & licking. He wouldn't get out of my lap. It is a level of neediness that I wouldn't tolerate in any other being. Michelle took a picture of our reunion... and then a few of her pocketbook. She is so arty.

Only Skin Deep

Perhaps rummaging around in my closet and finding a clay facial that was a gift from my sister Reta or perhaps it was another day of rain that inspired me to a day of self enhancement. Or perhaps it is the total neglect that I call my beauty regime that has forced me to spend a little time on myself. Whatever.

So this is the pore refining mask. It is some kind of diatomaceous earth that you mix with water and then slather on your pores, but not on your eye pores. They are very specific that it stay away from them, otherwise you can't see the stuff refining your other pores.

You don't really need to see the stuff working because you can feel it working. As it drys into a hard mask your lips are no longer able to move and your whole face starts to itch, but scratching just yields fingernails full of green clay. It must be working because it is uncomfortable. Another whatever- but I do think the green enhances the blue of my eyes.

Then on to my toes. It is probably better to have no polish than to go so long between touch ups that the outer two toes are missing most of it. While some might see this part of a woman's toilette as a bit of floofery, it is a must for a gardener if you plan to wear any sandals during the summer. Nails are permanently stained and dirt has gotten embedded so far underneath them that an orange stick must be employed to remove it. After the through cleaning I put on a couple of coats of OPI Outdoor Aphrodisiac. You can barely tell that I am a farm girl... just don't get too close. Yeah- I mean you, over there- with the foot fetish.

And voila! One beautiful girl... well maybe those legs have got to go. I can't think of a less flattering angle to photograph your legs from.