Me and my garden

One of the things Grant suggested I do over this weekend without him was to get some stuff for the garden. This is not to imply that he is lazy and doesn't want to help with the garden, but rather that, since we wouldn't be up at the boat this weekend, it would be a good time to put in some new plants.

One of the shrubberies we planted last fall didn't make it through the giant pile of snow that it lived under all winter long, so I had a bit of a hole in my front garden. I considered just digging up one of the hostas I have in the back yard, but I thought I would check the nursery for some inspiration first.

Inspiration did indeed strike, and I bought a rose for the front. It's a pretty floribunda called Little Darling. It is a yellow-peach-pink rose and it looks very healthy. I hope it will get enough sun to bloom well. In addition to the rose, I got a peony bush. It will go in the back. Once again, I hope it will get enough sun to bloom those fabulous fat blooms. I had never seen a peony before coming to Canada, now I love them.

I also picked up some alyssum, impatiens, dianthus and cosmos to fill in some of the gaps that the dying tulips left behind. I also got some herbs: oregano, basil and rosemary. And I bought 4 small tomato plants!!! All are now in pots and I am hopeful that I can keep them alive long enough to be able to eat them all up.

Now, I know enough as a gardening to know that in order for plants to do well, they need good soil. I also know that around my townhouse we have the crappy heavy clay soil on top and the hard-packed-god-only-knows-what's-down-there dirt from the construction. So I bought some good compost/manure to amend the soil in the areas I am planting. Which led to another problem--what exactly am I to do with all the lousy dirt I shovelled out to make room for the good stuff? It's a problem.

I think I will let Grant deal with it when he gets home.

In which I am a gigantic geek...with vodka!

It is quite possible that I am the only person on the planet who finds herself thinking as she drives away from the comic store, "I have 2 Buffy comics and 3 Serenity comics, a house completely to myself for the night, and a whole bottle of vodka. Could life get any better?"

Then again, perhaps not.

Why Lost rocks my world

I decided to post this before watching the season finale of the Best. Lost. Season. Ever. ---just in case it disappoints me.

I own a fair number of DVDs. Many of my DVDs have special commentaries on them, which I understand are full of interesting facts, insights and wacky humour. Most of the time. I never listen to the commentaries. Why? Because when I pull a DVD out of the case, it's because I want to watch the damn movie or show or whatever! And if the producers of said DVD have decided that the commentary is soooooo important that it requires reducing the volume level of the actual production to a point where I can only see actors' mouths moving, I get really annoyed.

That is why Pop-up Lost is quite possibly the best commentary ever created. Lots of fun facts, references to past events, hilarious asides and absolutely no interference with listening to Kate and Jack whine. And every word spoken by Sayid is there in all its dulcet-toney glory. If they release the entire series on DVD, I will buy it, but only if they give us the Pop-up option.

My mother turned 85 yesterday. A few weeks ago, her friends in Tucson threw her a surprise party right before she left to return to the Bay Area for the summer. Then, on Sunday, my sister had a little get-together party for her at a restaurant. The guests included my sister and her husband, my nephews, my ex-husband and my former in-laws (all of whom we still consider family). As my mom raved to me on the phone about how special her day was, I found myself tearing up, because... dammnit all...I wanted to be there too.

I love my life here in Canada, but sometimes it is really hard to have left a life of 40 years 3,000 miles away.

The root of the mystery

In my produce box this week, I received some large, whitish root vegetables with whom I am not acquainted. I suspected that they were turnips, then further investigation suggested they might be rutabagas. Even further investigation revealed that rutabagas are turnips! Who knew?

Anyway, the next challenge is how to prepare them. Luckily, my supplier has a recipe search engine that provides many recipes for many vegetables. I have only used one of them so far, for the bok choy, but that was a definite success, so I trust them. Conveniently enough, many of the recipes involve other vegetables and fruits that came along with my rutabagas; yams, carrots, and apples. Some of them involve maple syrup, too. Yum.

I doubt I will get to making anything from my rutabagas until next week, because Grant is leaving on Wednesday for Quebec City (which, incidentally, is where my rutabagas are from. Which also makes me wonder how committed my supplier is to the concept of "local", but that is another question for another day.) But one of the advantages of rutabagas (and most winter vegetables) is their ability to be stored. So store them, I will.

In the meantime, if you have any killer rutabaga recipes to share, please do so!

Reality check

As mentioned previously, I have been on a kick of reading about food and eating. This weekend, I finished reading Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, which chronicles her family's year-long effort to eat food entirely produced locally, most of which was grown in her own garden, chicken and turkey yard. I had already been inspired by The Omnivore's Dilemma to search out sustainable farm operations here in my neck of the woods, but Kingsolver really got me thinking. I even tentatively tested Grant.

"What if, instead of a cottage on the water, we retired to a farm and grew our own food?"

The answer was an incredulous "Ummm, no?"

Which is wise, because one of my failings (and I have a few), is a general lack of the work ethic and patience necessary to a real gardener. Every year, I plant pretty plants in my home garden, usually of the floral or shrub variety, and every year, the weeds enjoy relatively free reign in my plot of earth. I just don't have the passion to spend endless hours digging and tilling and weeding, even when it means beauty and/or food. The likelhood of successfully growing my own food is marginal, at best. This summer will mean a pot or two of herbs, nothing more. I really do accept this.

So, mostly, eating locally means it's me and the farmers' markets. But Kingsolver has made me realize that there just might be some things I could do all by myself. One is to take all the produce I can buy in summer and can it for the winter. Tomatoes, pickles, chutney...all of these are within the realm of possibility. All I need is a weekend or two...and maybe a friend to do it with.

But the thing that really fired my imagination is making my own cheese. Apparently, homemade cheese is significantly less lactose-heavy. I might actually be able to consume ricotta again! And make my own cream cheese and mozzarella. Cheese! I could make cheese!!!

Honestly, if I can make candles, I should be able to do this.

Ummm....yum?

One of the suggestions that my doctor gave me when we discovered I have osteoporosis is to eat sardines. Apparently, they are the single most calcium-laden food out there. So I decided last time that I was at the store that I would pick up a can. Now, when I was a little girl, my dad regularly snacked on sardines and saltines and I developed a bit of a taste for them. So, I figured, "Why not?"

Sadly, my house is currently saltine-free. Still, I opened the can and grabbed a fork. After I finished the first little fishy, I added some salt to the sardines and they weren't terrible. Still, I doubt they will be a regular solution to the calcium thing. Especially since I am completely positive I will be unable to get my husband to kiss me for several hours, if not days.

Okay...

Either Blogger hates me, or some of the people I regularly read have suddenly decided to moderate/and or delete my comments. Please reassure me that you haven't suddenly decided to shun me.