Feel the Passion

Tonight I can feel a burn in my muscles and on my skin. I "farmed" off and on all week and spent all day outside today. Off course there is more to do, but for now I am happy with the progress I have made.

Spring is definitely here. Nights are already a bit warmer and our monsoon season has passed. We may have a few more sprinkles before the last of our rains, but by and large we can't expect more until next winter. Since we won't have rain, our irrigation system is crucial. Our former gardener helped me with it on Monday, but it needs more work. I've never had the patience to try to figure out how to fix the problems - until now. I am determined that I will learn how to make the repairs myself. I don't need a new project - but I don't like to be at the mercy of others. So... we'll see. I'll report. I should add that I am constantly trying to reduce the amount of water we use. Hopefully the front landscaping will need water for just another six months. All the plants are native and after they are established will survive on winter rains.

And since spring has arrived and it is on my mind, I'll share an essay I wrote years ago. My daughter said I would change my mind and that after I lived here a while I would feel California springs. Well, I do. And I enjoy spring here. I do notice more flowers blooming and I do feel the thrill of it. But....it's still not like spring in South Carolina.

So here's "Feel the Passion:"

Ah! Spring! My early ones in South Carolina meant shedding the dreaded undershirts we wore in winter and making pretty dresses for Easter. In our finery we lined up in front of the azaleas for Mother to take pictures of Weeza, Margaret, and me. Spring meant finding vinegar scented Easter eggs hiding in the already green clumps of grass. Of course it also meant jellybeans in baskets and the revival we all feel that time of year. We could soon look forward to outdoor picnics and cook outs, trips to the beach, and the scorching days of summer. Spring breezes swiftly propelled us into warm days that soon turned hot. Most of all, it meant flowers with their fragrance and giant bursts of color that transformed our landscape into a fairyland.

As a teenager, I spent my favorite spring afternoons walking through Timrod Park with Patty Ruth and snapping pictures of the incomparable azaleas and dogwood. Sometimes spring meant rides along the Florence beauty trail with Mother or my friend, Linda, and later, boys. Each year bright yellow flowers splashed our beds as the daffodils and forsythia popped open. Redbuds turned our world rosy, and the dogwood blossomed to add a shimmery effect to it all. I remember rocking on our front porch with our old tabby, Taffy, just trying to take in the warmth, fragrance, and beauty of it all. You see, South Carolina does spring right - with passion.

Maybe you don’t know that if you have always been there. If you have left for a time or moved there with unsuspecting eyes, you know it. One recent year in Florence, my friend, Naomi, and I remarked that it certainly must be the finest spring our Creator had ever presented. Yet we knew some who didn’t seem to notice. How could that be? We were broadsided every time we walked out the door.

Well let’s compare. Spring in Wisconsin means that in two months the snow will melt, finally, to reveal lush greenery at the end of May. Why when we celebrated the Vernal Equinox there, we could count on another month of cross-country skiing along the trails behind our house. While we shivered in that climate, Mother enjoyed taunting me with photos of her gardens in full bloom. Agony!

Naomi says spring in Ohio means you wear heavy winter coats over Easter dresses and emerge from all your wraps like butterflies from cocoons. Because you refuse to wear big snow boots, spring means melting rock salt stains on patent leather shoes. Nothing there, according to her, resembles spring until the lilacs and peonies bloom in June. “By then,” she says, “they are so tired of holding their breath all winter, they manage to last only two weeks, for heaven sakes.”

Spring in south Florida comes gradually. Already warm days become a little warmer, and year round flowers continue to bloom. Though you know hot days are on the way, the passage is almost unnoticed. Spring in Indiana means the last frost date will arrive soon, and seeds can be sewn in a month or so. Pretty tulips pop up, and a few dogwood bloom, but Indiana just doesn’t provide much display. One April my friend, Mary, invited me to look for wildflowers sure to be blooming in the woods along the back roads of Brown County. A whole group of friends donned warm jackets to walk, with great anticipation, down the wooded paths. What! Is this what we traveled an hour to see? With tentative faces and just bits of color, tiny little flowers peaked from the undergrowth. I had to laugh. If you are from South Carolina, that is not spring.

In California, spring comes in quietly, almost unannounced. It means the days will be drier and the nights warmer, but, all in all, one might have trouble knowing the season has changed.

Spring should not limp in, it needs to come in with a showy vengeance and make my heart leap with the thrill of it. It does that in South Carolina. Step outside. Take a deep breath. Look around, experience the wonder with new eyes and feel the passion of your spring.

36!

Thirty-six years ago, Papa and I promised to stay together for five years. We just weren't really sure about the life commitment thing.

Five years later we forgot. The time passed without notice.

And now thirty-one more have zoomed by. And here we are.

To celebrate, we spent the perfect day: family, gardening, a wonderful dinner - out this time. Just one dessert tonight.

The weather was perfect. My yard looks great. I planted more herbs.

Our present to each other - but mostly for me, of course - was a new tree and three shrubs, new mulch, dirt, the herbs, etc. Love it. Pictures later.

Tonight I can hear the surf. Life is good.

Time to tread.

Just Awful:)

Tonight was gourmet club. The host couple always prepares a main dish and whatever side is served in the main course. The three other couples provide appetizer, salad, and dessert. And everyone brings a bottle of wine. OK, I said always. Sometimes we do things a little differently, but tonight was accidentally outside the norm. The appetizer person thought she was to bring dessert. So we had TWO desserts. Isn't that awful? And they were both very good.

But I took just the best salad in the world. OK, I am bragging. But I say so and the other three couples said so. Greens from my garden, fresh steamed beets, apples, goat cheese, and an orange mint vinaigrette. It was really great. Oh, I forgot the toasted walnuts. Yum.

Another example of me not taking a camera so you could see:(

Today

Today was just a beautiful day. Sunny, seventies. I slept late and then worked in the garden until 1:30. Picked up kids, went for a nature walk with neighbors. Later, had champagne on the patio and then yummy leftovers. As Roo would say - it was just the best day ever.

Mondays

I know Monday has a bad rep, but I am beginning to love Mondays. Some of mine are free of obligation, others are very busy.

A month or so ago on a free Monday, I twisted Papa's arm to go to our local farmer's market with me. He seemed uncomfortable with the whole process, but loved all the loot. He might have enjoyed it a little more the second time. Then the next week I had to spend all Monday afternoon in meetings, and, amazingly, he offered to go solo. I don't think he wanted to face Monday night without fresh salmon and good veggies. His grilled salmon is really good. Or maybe he just knew I would be happy?

Today, little Roo was puny and stayed with me. Papa went to farmer's. So tonight we ate our wonderful grilled salmon, steamed fresh white beets, sauteed kale from our garden, and salad from our garden. Oh, and cheese grits - that's polenta for those of you who don't understand grits.

I am happy. And we have more for tomorrow:)

PS

I've already posted tonight. But as I began the PC shut down process, I realized that a Ken doll has been adding to the inconvenience of trying to read my monitor around and between my cat's ears.

Not wanting to deal with putting Ken away (the Scarlet syndrome has been over riding my usual need for order), I pushed my chair back and ran over two naked Barbies and a pile of clothes for same. And purses, and shoes, and blow-up furniture.

And then I thought of Roo and smiled.

I turned to read the words I've written on large, lined, bright orange sticky sentence paper. They are stuck to my studio storage baskets and read: I like ants! Let's get ants. Let's pet the ants. Oh! Do not pet ants! Draw about ants. Tell me about ants.

And then I remembered the ant farm I've just rid of dead ants and the frog habitat with a live froglet lining my kitchen counter - along with ant farming tools. And I thought of Buddy and smiled.

I am so glad I am a grandmother. Just had to say that before going to bed.

I'll clean it all up tomorrow.

Yes to Dessert

I know it doesn't make sense; I know it is insane. But I just rewarded myself for several pounds weight loss with dessert. Doesn't sound all that bad until you multiply that by three.

We were to take dessert to my friend's house on Wednesday night. She was making dinner, we handled dessert. So I made delicious strawberry napoleons. And of course I soaked the strawberries in Amaretto. Well, of course. But see, the problem is that the recipe made enough for six servings instead of four. And even then some of the cream filling was left over. So we ate the dessert at my friend's house on Wednesday. Nobody left even a smear of cream or chocolate or a crumb of pastry. I would have taken the other two servings to the friends, but I hadn't decorated them. They weren't pretty. Very naked. So those two servings called to us, haunting us all day on Thursday. We ate them last night, leaving the little bowl of cream filling, a little chocolate sauce, and a few strawberries in the fridge to drive us both crazy. So tonight? I sliced and soaked the strawberries - Amaretto of course. I put them into two little ramekins and topped them with the cream filling. Then I spiked the chocolate sauce and topped off our little parfaits. They were small.

So I figure that life is too short not to sin sometimes. Furthermore, it would have been a sin to waste all that fabulousness. Yes? Oh my gosh! That dessert was so good. I may like it even better without the pastry. But now it is all gone. I no longer must suffer the torment of temptation.

So now I want someone to absolve me. Please. If you do, I will make spiked strawberry napoleons for you.

I did walk tonight - and have every night. Is that enough penance?

Must I confess that I ate a pastry at French class this morning? That I supplied? It was my turn. Oh dear. But it was breakfast. I saved up.

Role Model and Other Assorted Thoughts

I'll get to the role model part in a minute. First I have to say that I had five hours worth of meetings today. That may sound awful, but I am thrilled. A project my committee worked on for many hours was totally supported by our board today. If I were a little more agile, I would dance a fancy jig. Happy happy happy.

The next thing I want to share about my happy day is that when I returned from all my meetings after 5:30, Papa had shopped the local farmer's market for fresh wild salmon and assorted veggies. He had also been to the grocery store for items he couldn't buy at farmer's. He had the salmon ready to go on the grill and had picked lettuce from our garden. He had even washed the lettuce.

He poured wine, I chilled for a few, then put asparagus on to roast (with tangerine olive oil) while he grilled. I made salad. Poof! We had just about the most delicious meal I have had in a while - or at least in a couple of days - he grilled chicken just a few days ago. Anyway - it was all pure pleasure. And we have salmon planovers for tomorrow night - probably will serve that with fresh beets. Yum.

OK. Now to the role model. An artist in our art association currently has a show up in a downtown gallery. I figured she had to be at least eighty; I met her son when she was featured artist at our gallery and he looks like he may be close to sixty. So it figures. Anyway, her artwork looks current. It is abstract. Not one of her pieces looks like it was painted by a little old lady. Furthermore the woman dresses with class. She does not wear old lady pants or doily collars. Or polyester anything. Her gait is youthful. She attends our meetings. She serves as docent in our gallery. We worked together there a few weeks ago, and we talked nonstop all afternoon. She is interesting. The only clues to aging are her cute little eyes, a few little age spots, and the fact that she didn't always hear what I said. But I don't hear well either - so that is no biggy. I had to repeat just a couple of times. In our conversation, I discovered that she has a website and aggressively markets her work. I know that she travels some.

Friday night I stopped by the reception for her new show. It ran from six to nine. When we arrived shortly after eight, she was still standing (in pretty red shoes on a concrete floor) and talking to guests. Her face was bright and her discussion lively. She looked adorable - and, as usual - classy. Her hair is stylish, though snowy white. At that reception I found out that she is 87. Oh, my.

So she is hands down the winner for my new role model. She is amazing. If I can't match her, at least I have something to aim for.

Enthusiastic Encaustics

Our Enthusiastic Encaustics show opened at the San Luis Obispo Art Center last night. About twenty small paintings make up the exhibit in the tiny upstairs gallery. I discovered earlier that they hung my diptych incorrectly and thought I was going to be really upset with the way it was hung. Actually, it looks OK, but it doesn't make a lot of sense. At least one viewer noticed and figured out how the diptych was supposed to be arranged. I overheard.

Overall I am happy with the show and hope we will have more.

Of course - no camera:(

Roo often says no, but usually not in defiance. Over the years, if one of the grandchildren were to say no in response to my request for action, I would likely remind him/her that "you don't say no" to Gaga or most other grown-ups - in a pleasant way, of course. And they usually then do what I have asked. Roo usually complies, sometimes begrudgingly. Buddy looks crushed to have been reprimanded.

So late Sunday afternoon, Roo, Buddy, and I were crowded into my laundry room, a closet, really. It is quite small. I was folding clothes, Buddy was rummaging through a stash of salad containers and boxes (I save them for him.) to find one that could serve as a lizard habitat, and I think Roo wandered in to be with everyone.

Because I had a little pile of Roo's clothes ready to pack, I handed them to her and asked her to take them to the living room and put them by her duffle bag. "No." I asked again. "No." Well, hmmmm. I don't usually let her get by with that, but I knew she was very tired and hungry. And I didn't want her to be grumpy for the last hour or so of her visit. We had had a grand time and I hated for it to end on a sour note. So I thought a few seconds then quietly said, "Roo, I am going to give you a pass on that today. I think you must have forgotten that when I ask you to do something, you need to do it. Next time you come to Gaga's I want you to remember that." I felt like I had caved, but maybe not totally. So Roo prissed out of the laundry closet. I kept folding clothes and Buddy kept plundering, at one point muttering in disgust, "This is just a one person room." In a few seconds Roo reappeared. "Actually I decided I wanted to take my clothes to the living room." I was amazed.