Fun with Saran Wrap

Yesterday I was looking at blue sky and sunshine, why I even had to wear my shades. I was basking in the warm sunshine while I sipped my morning latte by the pond. Sigh…

It was a good day to do little seed harvesting for next year's garden. I clipped some seed pods for the Cupids Dart. I just love this plant. It was the most wonderful royal blue flush of flowers and then the seed pods looked so cool afterward. I kind of hated clipping them. I also collected some Candy Tuft seeds. Those little babies have been blooming all summer long. As a matter of fact even though we had excessive heat and drought everything in the garden really bloomed like gangbusters all summer. I will never use anything other than manure and leaf mulch. Best stuff ever!

I also clipped the last of the lavender and swooned. Now don't laugh at me. O.K. you can laugh at me, just do it so I can't hear you. I have never understood the attraction people have to lavender. I didn’t like it in the least. Apparently I have never actually smelled lavender. Nor have I been anywhere near real live lavender. I had only smelled it in those chemical cream factories with the wispy feminine labels they call lotion; when in fact it is more like French fries calling themselves French cuisine because they're French fries. There is absolutely zero resemblance. The fact that I did not know this tells you just how new to the plant world I am. I’m a tad embarrassed. Say, did I mention that I grew these little scent angels from seed? No? Yes!

Then we decided that it was time to cruise up the road a bit to our favorite “tractor with a wagon full of corn for sale on the side of the road” market for some fresh and I mean fresh, corn. We have one more week of corn from these guys for the year. I plan to buy enough to fill up the trunk and the back seat. I love how diverse the regulars are that come to this place every year. I also get a big kick out of seeing the new people because I know that when they get their fresh off the farm corn back home and take their first bite they are not going to know what hit them. We all buy corn in the grocery. I buy corn in the grocery and usually it’s pretty good. This is different. This corn bursts in your mouth like sweet summer sunshine in a delicious candy coating. You can smell the earth in the kernels, taste the sun sugars in the juice and smell the summer heat coming off the husks. I know those new people will never look at grocery store corn the same way again.

Next we decided to visit one of our local wild apple trees. The apples on these trees are not the best. Well they really aren’t good at all. The GOOD ones are coming up here pretty soon and we'll make our trip out for those but, we these for the horses and they love them. Tucker, the brown one, he starts to drool and lick his lips when he sees me with the apples. He gets very exicted. I have learned to step back a bit when I feed him these so I don’t get horse slimed. It can be quite disgusting. Jack has a little more dignity but you gotta watch your fingers.

I then decided that the new side deck was finally ready to be scrubbed and stained. Of course it had only been build last summer but you know, you can ever be too quick to take care of your new and unprotected deck wood I always say. It had been a lovely day all in all. All except that little business with the scrub brush and bucket of course.

While we frolicked in the summer sun there was a dark and ominous cloud lurking nearby that would soon spoil our fun. No, really. There was a dark ominous cloud nearby. It was coming from Alaska and it was freaking cold and wet. We did a 30 degree spread from last week to this one. My last and final act of the day was one of defiance. Of course my husband laughed so hard he almost fell over when he saw me. Why you ask? Well, because I did this:

Yes, that is Saran Wrap. So what? Haven’t you ever seen roses in Saran Wrap before?

A trip to Bountiful... aka Skagit Valley

There was rain again last night. Leaving the day full of sunshine and blue sky it waited until early evening to start. This morning it was clear and beautiful again with the gentle summer temperature the Northwest is famous for. We took a little drive up North to the Skagit Valley today. It is definitely one of my most treasured places to visit. I feel incredibly fortunate to live close enough for an easy drive through some lovely back roads that wind around McMurry Lake. That name of course always triggers my memory of the old TV show My Three Sons with Fred McMurry and the opening credits with the cartoon shoes. I just can’t seem to edit it out of my head. It doesn’t take away from the beauty of the lake but it does add a little humor to it.













Skagit Valley, Washington is one of the most fertile spots around. In the spring it is bursting in techno color with fields of vibrant and richly colored tulips along with bright sunny daffodils. Painters and photographers follow the field hands as they harvest the colorful rows. Tourists swarm the roads and fields, the clicking of so many cameras creating a buzzing sound as memory cards are filled with abandon.

In summer the fields come alive with all manner of crops to many to number. Grape and berry vineyards mingle with corn and potatoes, alfalfa and brussel sprouts. Fresh seafood is sold from wooden shacks and vans along the roadside and it is actually fresh seafood since the valley blends right into the bay at La Conner. The wonderful little town of La Conner is an entirely different post all together.





In early fall trucks with wooden slatted sides make camp along the edges of the farms to sell their harvest. Loyal patrons eagerly fill their bags with "Sweet corn, five for a dollar." My favorite spot sells roasted corn and hot dogs with a soda on the side. Driving through the back roads at this time is my favorite because of the wonderful farm houses that glow with fires in the hearth and the scent of hot cider mingling with burning leaves in the crisp autumn air.


With winter the valley is full of the most amazing array of birds you have ever seen. Snow geese descend like a blanket of snow on the fields and fill the sky like a blizzard. Great blue herons and bald eagles are so plentiful they are pests. Harriers, hawks, owls, and so many other species of birds I could never name them all reside in or migrate through the valley. There are designated viewing areas where you can actually find yourself swept up in a swarm of birds as they gather and swirl lifting up into the air making your heart race and your head swim with the excitement.

I love this little valley with its fertile land and collapsing barns. I love the commerce it produces and the families that make it work. I love the smell of the soil and the warm sweet aroma of hay. Ok, the cows can be a bit pungent but that’s what automatic windows are for.

There is something that sinks deeper than words can illuminate about a land that is teaming with life. It is something that reverberates deep within the soul and stirs the very DNA of you. On the surface it may appear to be lacking the vibrancy and urgent energy of the city but on closer inspection it is quite the opposite. A fertile land teaming with life is a cauldron of activity. There is incredible energy and activity creating entire universes within those little green sleeves. If you can consider string theory in physics for a moment you’d be amazed at the incredible amount of vibrating of energy that surrounds us all in a living and breathing environment. If you listen close enough I think you can actually hear the corn growing.

Farming The Past

There is just something about farms and country that puts you back in place with reality. If you can slow down enough to listen you can hear the corn stalks rustle, you may even hear them growing. To touch the worn wooden rails of this foot bridge seemed to turn the entire world into sepia tones and overalls. The past seemed to ignore the present and instead it haunted the future. It made me long for a world whose light was already fading when I was only a child.

For a few years when I was quite young we traveled the U.S. back roads and towns. Small towns and farm communities, we stayed in some, just passed through others. We ate in diners and greasy spoons, shopped in five and dimes and mom and pop stores, while I took in Americana from the ground up. I was closer to the ground then. I saw things differently.

I spent a lot of time looking out of the windows as we traveled along. I saw a lot of farms and ranches; I saw old homes that came right out of Steinbeck’s “Grapes of Wrath” and a few people who looked like they hadn’t quite yet. In the Midwest the cornfields seemed to engulf the car as we tunneled between the towering green stalks. The big sky of Texas was a landscape unto itself with giant fluffy clouds that looked like ghostly herds of buffalo. All in all I don’t think we missed a single state within the continental U.S. Some we simply passed through and some we lived in for a time. A winter spent on a Reindeer farm in South Dakota, another on a secluded lake in Minnesota, travelled the haunts of Billy the Kid, Jesse James and others. It was America and it was before the world had moved on again.

I developed a deep appreciation for the land, for nature and for straightforward people. My love of these things is not nostalgia for an innocent or carefree childhood. Mine was nothing of the sort. It comes from finding peace and comfort in those things when I needed it most. There is something deeply nourishing that comes from living closer to the land and in rhythm with the earth.

Now don’t get me wrong I love my 4” heels and a shiny fast car to take me where I can happily plunk down $4.50 for a Venti sized latte` no whip. I also like getting the dirt under my fingernails and laying in a field of tall grass with nothing but the sound of cows and blue sky above. I like my swanky art openings, sipping wine and pretending to know what I’m talking about. I also like coming home to house warmed by wood that we cut, hauled and split ourselves. These things keep me grounded and remind me of who I really am. They remind me that I am human, both uniquely fragile and powerful.

All the photos here are my own and from the places I frequent. Surprisingly the shot of the classic pickup was not staged. I just got super lucky! That was one beautiful truck and if I hadn't felt like such a voyeur I might have tried to get a closer shot of it. That cream and golden hay color are my all time favorite.