Forum Holitorium

Month: June, 2015

Zucchini Season is Open

To my surprise, the friend whose garden is hosting our two zucchini plants informed us that one zucchini was ready to be picked. Though I had already marveled at the variety of local vegetables and fruit already available at the farmer’s market last Saturday, the thought hadn’t crossed my mind that our plants might also have reached that point. We have planted very little this year, trying to use up our stockpile of seeds and limiting ourselves to what we eat the most. None of the carrots and only one of the radishes we planted from seed grew. Two bean plants survived a slug attack and are now finally working their way towards the sky. We bought two young zucchini plants at the annual plant market at the end of April, and there were three others going to town when we picked the first Cocozelle von Tripolis (Cucurbita peop var. garomontiina), an Italian heirloom variety. The striped fruit keeps with the color scheme of the week: greens of varying shades in a scarf I just completed. The lace pattern is called old shale, a Shetland pattern reminiscent of shells (shale = Shetland dialect pronunciation of the word shell).

There has been much going on lately with unexpected and troubling news arriving from many directions. In the end, all you can do is enjoy what you have and try to reduce suffering and share happiness. Beautiful sunny weather was undercut by a few dismal grey rainy days. Good for zucchini, but poor for our spirits. In the midst of one of the downpours, I spotted a bee on its back on the patio. Frantically waving its legs, it couldn’t get out of a pool of water. TC is an incorrigible insect rescuer. He brought it to a dry place next to the door and got it back on its feet. Unfortunately, when we checked back on it a few hours later, the bee had stopped moving. Even though it didn’t save the bee, I feel the gesture was important. We did what we could.

The cycle of life goes on. Our agapanthus is channeling its energy into a lone bud that will blossom in the near future, reminding us of Portugal and our honeymoon, which will soon be three years ago. I hope that buds are appearing all around you, ones that produce blossoms that are a balm to your eyes and bear delicious fruit that bring delight to your palate.

Refugium

I am dreaming of the day that I have a house of my own, one where I can step outside into my yard and not be seen by my neighbors if I so choose, where I don’t have to repeatedly clean up plant material falling from the neighbor’s patio above onto my own, where the cell phone conversations of others do not rouse me from the delicious indulgence of an afternoon nap, and where the stink of perfume does not invade my bedroom when I want to open my window to start my day listening to the birds singing. Edible bushes of savory, raspberries, and blackberries will array the perimeter of this delicious space of my own, and a wind chime will hum in harmony with the wind. Someday.

The multiple strawberry plants in pots and the large planter are now yielding fruit. The Mara des Bois, a smaller French variety, is my favorite kind of strawberry, a concise burst of flavor. During my absence of nearly a month, the herbs and berries continued to grow. The only vegetable I am trying in pots this year is Swiss chard, and the three tiny plants I left in mid-May are now ready for larger pots of their own.

The second brood of tit birds (Parus major) nesting in the pine tree next door are growing too. We can hear their excited chatter each time mom or dad returns to the birdhouse with a juicy green caterpillar hanging from its beak. The first brood left the nest mid-May. Flying for the first time is tough, calling for good coordination as well as good navigation skills. One tit was baffled when it flew onto our patio, falling between the strawberries and the rue. After hopping around and chirping for help which never came, it managed to find its way to the bushes into which its siblings had already flown.

Besides listening to birds and watching the plants grow, I am reading the book Refuge: An Unnatural History of Family and Place by Terry Tempest Williams. Williams recounts the experience of watching her mother die of cancer and the waters of Great Salt Lake rise and flood a wildlife refuge dear to her over the same period of time. One question she asks herself in the book struck me to the quick: why do we distract and excuse ourselves from our own creativity? Why indeed? Why such a long season of silence with this blog? It is not from a lack of ideas or inspiration.

The needles keep flying, nonetheless, and I continue to gain ground on meeting the knitting goals for 2015 I made in a post earlier this year. Of the six sweaters I set out to knit, two are finished and one simply needs to be stitched together. Of the twelve pairs of socks, four are finished and a fifth is nearly half done. The Lake Michigan jacket below kept me warm along its shores over the past few weeks. Now it’s time to turn to projects of cotton and linen more suited to the burgeoning summer here in Graz.

Take refuge in your creativity and enjoy the company of considerate neighbors!