My kind of hipster: socks and sandals
Fifty-Something Fashion Sense: A Socks-and-Sandals Guy
Homegrown Video: How Does My Garden Grow?
Homegrown Video and What’s in my Garden
Having discovered the video setting on my point-and-shoot camera, has emboldened me to embrace my inner Scorsese. I fear my first attempts are home-movie bad, but bear with me and I know I shall offer a future directorial debut worthy of your viewing. For now, here’s the homegrown, hand-held tour of my vegetable garden, where every take is an outtake. For now I’ve listed the varieties below (since my memory eluded me during taping):
Row 1
Row 2
Row 3
- Potatoes: Red French Fingerling
- Potatoes: Makah Ozette (local heirloom)
- Potatoes: Russian Banana Fingerling
- Potatoes: Satina
- Potatoes: Yukon Gold
Row 4
Row 5
Row 6
Row 7: Tomatoes
- Anna Noire
- Azoychka
- Carmello
- Gold Medal
- Green Sausage
- Indigo Rose
- Juliet
- Milano
- Old German
- Pineapple
Row 8: Dry Beans
Row 9: Summer Squash
Row 10
Row 11
Row 12: Winter Squash
Row 13
http://www.tallcloverfarm.com/1005/fortex-best-mess-of-green-beans-growin
Snapshot: My Favorite Face of Summer
“Summer is the time when one sheds one’s tensions with one’s clothes, and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit. A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief that all’s right with the world.” -Ada Louise Huxtable
When my friends Leo and Caedmon shared this photo of their daughter, I smiled from ear to ear, and thought, this snapshot of Tenzing embodies all I love about summer: freedom, sun, food, joy, discovery and being a kid again. It doesn’t hurt that Tenzing is the cutest backyard bathing beauty west of the Cascades (and the girl knows how to eat a melon). Thank you, Leo and Caedmon for sharing your ray of sunshine with the rest of us.
Lazy Days of Summer: A Progress Report
Don’t laugh, but today we will likely break a heat record somewhere in the low 90s. Too hot for Tom or the shade, I plan on cooling off in Puget Sound, where I will go from tenor to soprano in mere minutes. Nonetheless, it is a sweet, sweet plunge. Summer is a celebratory event around here. Islanders practically panic over getting the most out of a day. Whether checking off a chore list, stopping to smell a few roses, or getting out for a beach walk with friends, a warm sunny summer day on Vashon is a treat to be savored. You don’t want to miss a minute, so let me share a few snapshots and my modest progress report before I head to the beach.
Keeping Up With My Favorite Octogenarian
Cutting the rug (make that the pavement) with my Mom at Vashon’s Strawberry Festival Street Dance
I’m a proud on-the-precipice-of-geezerhood, optimistic 55-year who can seize the day just as passionately as the next guy, but when it comes to my Mom (youthfully over 80), I have met my match. The weaker sex she is not, able to tackle any task brought before her (in addition to her own priorities), my mother is the energizer bunny in an argyle sweater and with a beaming smile.
The best berry-pickin’ Mom a boy could have.
My mother’s recent cross-country arrival to the Pacific Northwest was marked by a three-hour flight delay, which caused us to miss the day’s last ferry (at 2:10 a.m.). I told her I had booked a room as the next ferry wouldn’t leave West Seattle for another three hours. Without missing a beat, she suggested I save my money and that we could just sleep it out in my truck on the dock. Let me tell you about my 23-year-old Mazda truck. With over 235,000 miles on it, nary a nook nor cranny is without dog hair, nor a surface not perfumed by bulldog farts and bad breath (the dogs’). My truck would be better used as an isolation chamber to make terrorists talk, than as a crash pad for a loved one. I vetoed her suggestion (which was a tough sell), and we got some shuteye in a charmless ‘hotel’ near Sea-Tac airport, where a surly staff did their best to make me want to reconsider my truck camping option.
We made it home early in the morning of the same day, and my Mom didn’t miss a beat. A doer with a capital “D,” she doesn’t like to sit idly by, but rather prefers to have a project planned or to lend a helping hand when the need arises. As we drove up my lane, I could sense she was formulating her mental to-do list. By the time my sister arrived a day later, a plan of attack had been hatched, and this army of three was preparing for battle, battle with weeds, brambles, dirt, tarnish, clutter and disrepair (as well as my earlier lack of interest).
In mere days, my pantry reappeared organized (and accessible), my silverware shone brightly, my raspberry patch was liberated from weeds, (sorry about the nettles) and my freezer found itself full of freshly-baked date and banana nut bread. Needless to say during the next week, all things sparkled, from light fixtures to a grateful son. Tall Clover Work Camp was in session. (Apologies to my vacationing sister, minimal hammock time this year.)
A rare moment when the two hardest working women on Vashon took a break.
For a woman who’s been through so much in the last several years, she presses on with grace, kindness and generosity. She makes me and my brother and sister proud, then again, she always has. Thank you Mom, and thank you Linda. Your help was so appreciated and your company so beloved, but be forewarned, on your next visit, I’m instituting mandatory afternoon naps for anyone over the age of 50.
Me and Sis, in the arms of our angel, 1957. (Our dear brother arrived a little bit later.)
Lawn to Meadow: Gardening on the Wild Side
Lawn to Meadow: A Lovely Transition
While my gardens have never been manicured, I did find myself instituting design ideas and practices based on urban and suburban experiences, conformity and aesthetics. (When in the city do as your neighbors do.) When I moved to the country, I relocated some now-evident and misguided gardening protocols, and acted as if I was still cultivating a small city yard, when in fact I had about one acre of ornamental garden space around the house.
Eight years later this aching gardener has figured it out. I don’t need to mow two acres. I don’t have to plant 50-foot perennial borders or elaborate displays of annual flowers. In fact, as seen in the photo below, I can mow the ‘sideburns’ of the drive and let the sidling wild things grow freely.
- July-August: let it grow, let it grow, let it grow
- September – October: mow down the dried vegetation, leave it in place, plant spring-blooming naturalizing bulbs
- November – January: let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
- February – March: Rough up some areas to expose soil, scatter wild flower seeds
- April onward: enjoy rampant growth and seasonal reinvention
- Mow needed paths through meadows or mow edges to neaten up the look
I believe the key to success will be mowing down the field in the fall and adding wildflower seeds and bulbs annually to establish some floral dominance among the grass and more invasive weeds.
Lavender Sisters Harvest Some Fine Friendships
Meet the Lavender Sisters
If Vashon Island ever needed a trio of fairy godmothers, I have no doubt the positions would be immediately filled by my friends Katy Jo, Merrilee and Dana, aka, the Lavender Sisters. Their respective lavender farms are nothing short of magic, magic cultivated by hard work, kindness and a generosity of spirit that never fails to leave me gobsmacked and asking for my three wishes.
This week the lavender harvest began, and as you can see the volunteers were all too eager to help the tireless trio bring their flowers to market, in this case Vashon Farmers Market and Seattle’s Metropolitan Market.
Rose (our favorite bouquet bunch runner) has a smile that can upstage any bouquet.
Don’t let the smile fool you; nicknamed “The Enforcer,” Rob was all about quality control, “tighter bundles, more lavender!”
Karen of La Biondo Farm gave us an idea. How about a calendar: Sexy Farmgals of Vashon!
Beauties (and the Beast) making play of work.
The sisters have a system, one where farmhands morph into a fine-tuned lavender harvesting machine: cut, scrape, bunch, band, and deliver. Basically farmhand one cuts the lavender from the plant, and hands it off to the scraper, who removes the lower leaves. That handful is given to the buncher who collects the cut lavender and evens out the stem bottoms. When the appropriate bouquet size is reached, the banding boss takes over and regroups the mass of stems with a rubber band. Up goes the bander’s arm like a posie-packing Statue of Liberty, which signals the runner to grab the banded baton and place it in a delivery bin filled with one inch of water. Teamwork makes quick work of a once laborious task.
And as for my three wishes, I consider them granted; cornbread, butter, and raspberry jam appeared on the snack table just about the time this farmhand needed a break.
Pickled Sweet Cherries…Who Would Have Thunk?
Makes 6-8 pints (approximately)
Ingredients:
- 3 pounds of firm sweet cherries
- 4 cups white or cider vinegar (5% acidity)
- 1 cup white sugar
- 1 cup brown sugar
- 2 teaspoons peppercorns
- 2 teaspoons pepper flakes
- 1-3 rosemary sprigs
- 1 bay leaf
- 1-2 cardamon seeds
- 3-4 cloves
- Wash, remove stems and pit cherries, set aside.
- In a heavy bottom sauce pan begin pickling syrup, add all remaining ingredients.
- Stir to dissolve sugar and combine ingredients.
- Heat to a low simmer for 5-10 minutes.
- Turn off heat and let it sit for at least a half hour. Let the herbs and spices do their thing to flavor the syrup.
- Fill sterilized pint jars with pitted cherries
- Leave one inch head space, but pack tightly. (The more cherries in the jar, the less syrup you have to use.)
- Strain syrup to remove seeds, sprigs, leaves and flakes.
- Bring temperature of syrup up to hot.
- Pour into jars.
- Leave 1/2 inch head space (air space between liquid and top of jar).
- Add warm lid, tighten.
- Gently place in a hot water bath and simmer for 10 minutes.
- Remove and let cool.
These cherry pickle poppers will mellow a bit if you wait a couple weeks before eating.
http://www.tallcloverfarm.com/6605/summertime-and-the-pittin-is-easy
A Front Porch Fourth of July
The Fourth of July crept in this morning under a layer of clouds thin enough to be dismissed by an eager sunrise. While the island still sleeps, I’m up with a British expat who needed to be let outside, but Boz assures me there are no hard feelings on this Independence Day.
Happy Fourth of July my friends! Here’s to embracing our differences and the freedoms we often take for granted.
Summertime and the Pittin’ is Easy: A Better Way to Pit Cherries
An inexpensive tool and better way to pit cherries
I’m no different; I gorge on cherries without regret, satisfied only when I’m convinced peach season has commenced. And because I like to cook with sweet cherries, I’m always looking for a better cherry stoner, the nifty little machine (and not woozy dude) that separates the pits from the flesh in an accurate and expedient fashion. Most pit-removing gadgets do little to dislodge the cherry seed and a whole lot to stain your clothes. Recently, I found my favorite new cherry pitter at our local island thrift shop. My latest find stands out as the best solution for under $20 (when new). In my humble cherry pitting opinion the Norpro Deluxe Cherry Stoner with Clamp
Here’s my video attempt at showing you how it works. Spielberg has nothing to worry about, and I promise the next video will be better. Friends commented and offered the following directorial advice while holding back (or not) the laughter: “Your head is huge,” “It made me slightly nauseous from the quick movement during filming,” and “Could you have used a nice tray?” These are points all well taken and to be remedied in my next video.
Cherries are in season…let the pitting begin!
Related: Norpro Deluxe Cherry Stoner with Clamp