Spring marches on

I flew back to northern California the other day after a whirlwind trip back to Nebraska. As I exited the airport I was immediately struck by the floral smell in the air. It was humid and sticky in Nebraska, as it always is in the spring and summer, but here the air was crisp, and so fragrant! I looked around but could not see where the smell was coming from. Flowers begin blooming here in March or so and continue on until the heat of summer and dry season. Each bloom marks the seasons for me. The Camellias and Wisteria are the first to bloom sometime in March, then comes the Lemon Bottlebrush tree in April and May. But it is the bloom of the Magnolia tree that amazes me most year after year, and it signals to me the end of the lush spring and an ushering in of the heat of summer.

We have two Magnolia trees in the yard. I was curious and did a little research about them. I am guessing ours are the magnolia grandiflora species--that is, the Southern Magnolia. Magnolia trees are ancient; they have survived ice ages and continental drift, and have been around for over 20 million years! They existed before bees, and the flowers developed to encourage pollination by beetles.

Their flowers are short lived, so I take the time frequently to stand and admire them before they disappear. A couple of weeks ago I noticed one of the two trees in bloom already. It stands near the garden bed, and as I was tending my garden I noticed things were dropping like rain onto the ground around my feet. Curious about this, I glanced up, hoping it was not a bird! I was amazed to discover that the bees were busy around each blossom, and as they dove into the flower, they would throw down the stamen to the ground below. Soon enough the flowers will disappear, their leaves will be all around the ground, and we will once again be cursing their cones all over the place. But for now, for these brief few weeks, I stand in awe of this ancient, magnificent tree species with its flowers that span the size of a small dinner plate.

Eggs-a-plenty!

Lately I've been mulling over the idea of raising chickens. Not so much for eating, but for eggs. We have a chicken coop in the back of the garage already, but it has been abandoned for several years. I've been told that raising chickens is easy, and I know it's not against the law here because people all around the neighborhood have chickens, goats, cows, horses and other farm animals. My friend has chickens, and I hit her up from time to time for eggs. Her hens are allowed to roam her property, so the eggs are free range and absolutely delicious. Their yokes are a much darker yellow than store-bought eggs.

Lately my friend has been telling me that one of her hens must be laying on eggs outside the hen house; she knew this because the hen, when she called for it, would come running from behind the garage when all the other hens were already around her waiting to be fed. Yesterday she went out to the area she suspected the hen was laying and underneath a junk pile she found 60 (yes, that's SIXTY) eggs! Now, you would think that all these eggs must have gone bad because the hen(s?) had been laying there for quite some time. Apparently, however, there is a way to determine whether eggs are bad or good.

To determine whether an egg has gone bad you simply have to follow these steps:

1. Fill a bowl with cool water.


2. Gently place the egg into the water.


3. If it drops quickly to the bottom, and lies on its side, it is fresh.


4. If it drops to the bottom, but stands on end, it's still okay to eat, but it needs to be consumed soon!


5. If it floats to the top of the water, toss it--it's a bad egg!

My friend said out of the 60 eggs, she had to toss only a dozen! I was the happy recipient of two 18-packs of these eggs, so I had to experiment to see for myself. Though many of the eggs pointed upward (still okay to eat, but an indication that they're a few weeks old), several were still fresh. I boiled up a dozen of the pointer eggs--eggs that are a little bit older are easier to peel than fresh ones.

After this experience I'm beginning to eyeball that chicken coop with renewed interest!

Gramma's Recipes

Some years ago I stumbled on an old cookbook among my mother's things. It was tattered, torn, and falling apart. Yet, within the book were pages of recipes, many handwritten and food-stained. The handwriting I recognized from old family letters as that of my great-grandmother's. I instantly latched onto the book and held onto it as a cherished family heirloom. Today I was thumbing through the book, and thought I'd take the time to share one of the recipes with you. It is one which maybe we all need to rely upon in these dark economic times:

Economy Cake

Put 1/2 cup sour milk, yolk of 1 egg, 1/4 cake Baker's chocolate in double boiler. When melted and smooth add 1 tbsp. butter 1 cup sugar 1/2 cup sour milk 1 tsp soda 1 1/2 cups flour. Use white of egg for frosting.


That's it. No directions necessary as any good housewife worth her weight knew how to process this recipe!

If you try this recipe, could you please comment and let me know how it went?

California Dreamin'

Well, school is finally done for the semester and I have so many things to do that I've been putting off! I spent some time today raking up some leaves that we abandoned a month ago, and taking them to the burn pile in the back yard. As I was burning the rubble, I began to think about all the lessons I've learned since I moved here to California. I guess that thought popped into my head because I was considering the fact that three years ago I had never gathered sticks and leaves with the sole purpose of disposing of them by fire, unless you count the many campfires I've had. I recall a decade ago being proud of the fact that I got up early once during a camping trip and started the fire all by myself! And here I was today, by myself, standing by a burn pile that I created, I managed, I saw through.

Our lives are full of lessons. One thing I've realized these past few years is that we are constantly evolving as human beings. New challenges come our way, and how we rise to meet them is what creates the person we become. I guess I never embraced those opportunities in years past, but I enjoy discovering what I am capable of, how I handle things, and most importantly, how I can stand on my own two feet and still get by.

As I was waiting for the fire to burn out, I decided to work a bit in the area nearby. It was at this point that I realized that my "voice," or, my "brand" for this blog could include observations of living in Northern California. I was born in Oregon, but I was raised in Nebraska, and consider myself a Midwest girl. On the Great Plains we have few trees--the grassland goes on forever. When I moved to Northern California three years ago I had only ever been to this state three times before: twice to LA and once when my family drove down the Oregon coast, through the Redwoods and over to Reno before heading home. So life here provides new experiences for me daily, and new opportunities for observation.

It is mid-May now, and summer is coming on us hard here in the northern part of the Great Valley. I live just outside Sacramento, on the verge of the foothills of the Sierra Nevadas. Our weather here is much like the weather is in the Mediterranean. Just down the street from me used to be (before urban sprawl got the better of it) several acres of olive trees. There was an olive ranch there at one time; now all that's left is the house and a few small groves of trees. I had never seen an olive tree before I moved here. The climate here, while second nature to many, always takes me by surprise. This weekend, the middle of May, the temperatures will be over 100 degrees. Granted, this is about 20 degrees over the normal range, but it's not uncommon. To me it is a reminder of the summer to come--hot and dry as they always are, but full of new adventures and wonders to take in.

More of life's little lessons

It's been a month now since I was cleaning out my garden space and planting seeds. My vision of a garden bursting forth with new plants by this time has not come to fruition, and has been peppered with few successes. I am a little disgruntled by the very few seeds that have germinated, and even more so with their very slow growth. As I was reviewing my post about the seeds I planted, I do realize that most of them have produced a few plants each. By now I have several (albeit tiny) basil plants throughout my garden. I have a few borage plants growing, and some nasturtiums. I see some of the cosmos flowers are doing well, too. The peppers are very slow, but some are coming up, and the lettuce, onion, garlic, zucchini, and squash are flourishing. My tomatoes, on the other hand, are another story entirely.

The other day, as I was huddled over my plants (as I do multiple times a day), I realized that gardening is a reflection of life itself. Seeds of thought, of action, of hope need proper germination. The right temperature, humidity, and light will either bring a seed to life, or it will lie stagnant in the soil and wither to nothingness. I find myself nurturing these little plants, feeling a love and passion for each. I want them to grow, not only for myself, but for the energy I have tranferred into each one of them. They each are a reflection of myself.

I was accused of loving my plants to death, scaring them because of my hovering. I suppose there is some truth in that to those plants that didn't make it, but for those that are struggling to survive, I say my love is what keeps them going. I nurture them as I try to do with my children. I suppose I liken these little plants' physical needs to my own children's emotional needs. Some would also say I hover, and mother my children to death, but I see myself as a protector of their emotions, helping them develop and mature into fruitful adults.

I remember one time when my son, who is now 19, was only four years old, had some emotional upheaval happen which brought him to tears. At the time we were visiting my in-laws; my husband's step-father said to my son, "Boys don't cry!" and made him feel even worse for feeling the way he did. Where does this notion come from? Why is it we stifle our sons from feeling anything and then expect them to be compassionate, loving adults? How can we expect our children to feel anything at all if we do not nurture their emotions?

I suppose, as with all things, there is a balance. But when it comes to tending my little plants, coaching them, nourishing them, and nurturing them, I won't give up. Not even when they've grown up and produced little fruits of their own.

Gardening Lessons learned

The Seed Saver seeds arrived and as I posted earlier, I eagerly planted as many as I could in peat pots to get a jump start on my garden. Here in Northern California we're still experiencing relatively cool temperatures. Highs in the 60s, with a few days in the 70s, and nighttime lows still into the 30s and 40s. Not knowing any better, I filled my little pots, set them in a tray of water and set them in the sun on a table near the garden. I watched anxiously and nothing happened. I watered and watched, watered and watched, but still nothing. After several weeks a few little brave seedlings began to emerge (not the 4-6 days most seed packages claimed!), and my peat pots began to get some green moss on the top. Jack so kindly pointed out that 1) you cannot drown the seeds and expect them to grow, and 2) you need heat to make the seeds grow. I was beginning to get so disheartened that all my efforts were for naught.

I must step back a moment and explain that this gardening venture is entirely new to me. I've never tended a garden of my own from start to finish. I've never tried to grow seeds, unless you count those elementary school lessons on seed germination. So this is all a new experience. What little I know, I've learned from books, or from sage advice from experienced gardeners.

Jack, in all his wisdom, found some building materials that were laying around the yard and bought some insulation, and built a box around my seeds to create a cold frame box to get those seeds started. He pulled out the excess water I thought was so necessary as he explained that damp soil works better than soggy soil. A few weeks ago he and I pulled down the greenhouse that I photographed for my previous post, and from that he salvaged a window that he used for the top of the new cold frame. Within a couple of days more seeds were popping out thanks to the warmth and the drying soil.



I did succumb and buy a few plants already started in a nursery. I bought garlic, a few onion sets, a couple of rhubarb plants, a horseradish plant, and a six-pack of Lobelias. Another lesson I learned was that the onion sets have multiple onions in each cell pack. I made the mistake of planting each bunch in one clump, but last night I took the time to dig them back up and separate each little shoot and plant them individually. I'll be digging up a lot of onions this fall!

As I discover the ways to live tight in tight times, I am learning how to make do with what materials we have on hand as much as possible. The cold frame box illustrates the ingenuity of utilizing scraps to make something new and useful with very little monetary output. Stay tuned for more on this topic, and the story of the creative garden fence pictured at the top!

Turning over an old leaf (several!)

If you've ever read The Secret Garden, you'll understand when I say I feel like Mary Lennox these past few weeks. I have been taking advantage of the 60-70 degree temperatures and unearthing a space for a garden. The idea has been lurking in my brain for a few years, but finally, thanks to my friend Carol's help, I am making headway toward a real garden. For the past few years I have primarily grown herbs in containers, with an unsuccessful attempt at tomatoes. The space I've been clearing was previously used as a garden but was abandoned at least five years ago, with some parts of the garden not receiving attention for a good decade. I've been hacking, pulling, digging, raking, and in general just clearing the space in which to grow vegetables.


I've been doing a lot of reading lately about organic gardening methods. A little more than a week ago we went to the Goodwill where Carol ran into the book Carrots Love Tomatoes. She and I had been talking about that book a few weeks back, so she got it and gave it to me. I've been pouring over it considering the benefits of companion gardening. I also started a compost pile where I am putting all the debris from my garden clean-up along with scraps (not meat) leftover from the kitchen. It won't be done "cooking" for a few months, but when it is, there will be some prime soil for future gardens!

In the meantime, as I've been raking out a very neglected section of the garden, I discovered some well-composted soil from years of leaves, sticks and dirt piled in the same area. I'll make use of that in my garden!

I was recently reflecting back to a time in the not-to-distant-past when I refused to dig in the dirt because "there are bugs!" and how I now boldly rake through leaves that just as well could have snakes, knowing that what I am doing now will benefit our grocery bill this summer.

I did go to Seed Savers yesterday and order several seeds. I may be a bit ambitious, but I'm trying to limit what I grow to those things I know we buy on a regular basis in the summer time. I have also been planting other seeds that I already had, and some I bought locally. So far I've planted:

• Basil


• Turnips


• Lettuce


• Green Onions


• San Marzano Pole Tomatoes


• Beefsteak Tomatoes

I'm waiting on the following seeds from Seed Savers, which I will plant immediately upon their arrival!

• 2 kinds of cucumbers: lemon and pickling


• Beets (Detroit Dark Red)


• 2 kinds of peppers: Hinkelhatz and Cayenne (I put red pepper flakes in almost everything I cook!)


• Purple Tomatillos--this is something I grew by accident a few years ago and we really enjoyed them!


• And 3 more kinds of tomatoes! Cherry, Black and Green

It may seem a bit ridiculous to have five kinds of tomatoes, but we go through a lot of tomatoes in this house. In the fall I will can tomatoes, tomato sauce, and salsa. I love canning pickles too!

Watch this space as spring progresses and see how my garden grows!