Vicki Lane's Blog, page 52

At Last!

I planted these daylilies four years ago. Their first year, they didn't bloom but that was expected. The second year, they were inadvertently whacked down by a weedeater. The third year, they came back from the roots -- no bloom. But this year, at long last, we have blooms!

I truly didn't know what to expect. I remembered they had been rather pricey specimens whose pictures in a daylily catalogue had compelled me to add them to my collection. I've been watching the buds swell, eager to see what it was I'd chosen.

The purple centered lovely with the ruffled edges is pretty spectacular. But this deep rose double bloom is, I think, my favorite of the two. 
I'd love to get more and more and more daylilies, but the truth is, I should thin the ones I have. Not an easy task.
These days, I force myself to throw the daylily catalogues into the recycling without a glance.

 

A Visit from My Local Book Pusher

                                                                             

         

 For the past several years, Allegra and I have done book swaps. Great bulging shopping bags filled with books we think the other would enjoy change hands and we have lunch and talk--some about the books but more about the current state of politics and the world.

The recent haul included Absolution, which I picked up somewhat at random and was at once captivated by the setting: Vietnam, 1963, and then by the protagonist--newly wed Tricia whose attorney husband is 'on loan' to navy intelligence. This is before actual war breaks out. There are military advisors but the families of officers and civilians like Tricia's husband, live in secure compounds, enjoying a luxurious life. 

I too was a newlywed in 1963 and the mindset that Tricia has, as well as the social expectations are all so familiar. 

Tricia is swept up in the wake of Charlene, who is trying her best to 'do good.'  And underlying all of this is the question of American meddling in another country.

Charlene and Tricia are compelling characters and the descriptions of Saigon and the countryside are beautifully done. 

I found it to be compulsive reading--highly recommended!

My next choice from the bulging bag was Good Night, Irene, a novel based on the experiences of the Donut Dollies, a Red Cross corps formed to bring a touch of comfort to American GI, sometimes frighteningly near the frontlines.

Set in 1943 (another significant year for me as it's when I was born,) the novel follows Irene and Dot and a changing cast of Third Girls as they (wo)man the unwieldy Clubmobile throughout wartime France, dispensing hot coffee and donuts (fried fresh in the Clubmobile!) as well as their smiles and cheerful flirtation that are the real comforts.

Holding those smiles is hard as they encounter increasingly dangerous and heart-breaking situations. But their strong support for one another sees them through the worst of times. It's a fine testimonial to friendship, without ever getting soppy

It's a terrific war story--told from a female perspective and with a long overdue look at the heroism of women. 

The writing is beautiful, poetic and moving--when I finished to book, it was hard to return to the here and now, so caught up in the story I'd been.

Another winner and another highly recommended.

                                                                           

Sunday Surprise

Arum dracunculus, aka Voodoo Lily and some other names I won't mention for fear of Auntie FB getting offended. Very hardy--I planted the first one probably twenty years ago--and pollinated by flies, drawn to its strong odor of carrion.
Every garden should have one--at a good distance from the house.

 

A Hello Kitty Day

I spent the day at Meema and Grumpy's on Friday and I showed Meema the library book about Hello Kitty and her grandma and told Meema we would have a Hello Kitty Day. 

I drew pictures of Hello Kitty and her friend.

And Meema did one of Hello Kitty's grandma.

Hello Kitty ad her grandma had a picnic but it wasn't lunchtime so we watered the plants outside instead. 

I wore my Pinky Princess veil,

So did Bailey but she didn't like it.

Next, Grandma taught Hello Kitty to embroider.  So Meema drew my name JOSIE on a piece of cloth and showed me how to follow the line. I chose pink thread for the J and the S and the E and purple for the O and I.

Sewing is not easy and once I stuck myself with the needle. But I pretended the needle was a dolphin, leaping up out of the cloth and then diving back in.

I took a break after the first two letters but later I finished the whole name. Meema is going to make it into a pillow for me and then we'll take another picture of it. 

I have some more ideas for embroidery and Meema is going to show me how to make a flower.

Then we made a cake! It has three layers and we swirled food coloring into them. I picked out the colors and did the swirling.

That was fun!

Meema made the chocolate icing, and I licked the bowl. I also put on the sprinkles, lots of them.
And finally I got to eat a slice. Plus I took home half of the cake for Mama and Daddy.


 

New Neighbors

When I was Josie's age or a bit older, we lived on a block comprised of new houses and vacant lots. And houses under construction. Often, after supper my family would stroll down the block and, if a house was being built and had not yet been dried in, we felt free to wander through it, speculating on what these rooms, now just spaces defined by 2x4s, would become. If roofing was underway, my little brother and I would collect those little tin circles that went under the nails that held down the tar paper. Treasure!

That was then. Today, and here in the country, I wouldn't dare to wander onto a building site, knowing how folks who move here value their privacy.  But I must say I'm fascinated (from a distance) by what is going on next door
They border us on the lower part of our property and we can see (and hear) big doings in the area below the main house. It adjoins one of our pastures below the pond (see hay ring above,) and crews of workers have been busy most days, all day until dark. They've cut and dug up and burned the bamboo a previous owner planted and are constructing what looks like a corral for buffalo.

Asking around hasn't revealed much. I don't know if the owners have moved in or what their plans for the property are. Mention was made of the large workshop being converted to a barn and caretaker's quarters, which sounds like they won't be full time residents.
Raising horses, perhaps?  Rodeo broncs or bulls? Or buffalo or ostriches or zebus? Time will tell. 
Meanwhile, I'm loving the look of the log wall, punctuated by old metal wagon wheels. 

 

Summer Solstice

 Marking the longest day, celebrants gather round the traditional solstice bonfire in hopes of foiling evil spirits and ensuring a good harvest.

(Photo by Justin S.)

In Extreme Heat . . .

 . . . dogs may melt.

Meema Strikes Out

 

Josie's dad was always a great one for arguing, so much so that we often told him he was perfect for a legal career. Actually, one of his teachers, noticing the same talent told him the same thing-- "Justin, you'd make a good lawyer."
The reply was quick and not very polite."Mr. ___, you'd make a good truck driver." 
Yesterday, Josie was scheduled for a dental procedure in the afternoon, and I was to take her in to Asheville to meet her mother. Thinking it would be a thoughtful thing for the child to show up with clean teeth, I proposed several things.
It did not go well. Here's the series of texts I exchanged with Josie's mom:
Josie says that after her appointment, she's coming back here. Is that correct?
No. It will be dinnertime when we get home
I thought so but she was so sure
She doesn't like to be wrong
Tell me. I was trying to get her to brush her teeth with a new (adult) toothbrush, and she said she wasn't allowed to use that. Tried to get her to floss. Also the wrong kind of floss. Asked her to rinse her mouth at least and she said the dentist said sink water was bad for her teeth.
She went and got water from the kitchen (sink) and rinsed
I triedAlso we had the wrong kind of mouthwash
None of that is true LOL
I had a feeling but it's too hot to argue
I don't blame youOften wrong but never in doubt

Forty Years

                                                                                                                                                                           

Our little south-facing shed greenhouse has been an ongoing pleasure. It's been used mainly to overwinter things like lavender, rosemary, and bay, as well as various tender potted plants.

                                                                                     

In the early years, we attempted to grow tomatoes out of season but the results were pretty tasteless. For several years I grew Japanese cucumbers on trellises and they did quite well--till the year that something ate all the seedlings.  

                                                                                      

 
Now the deep soil bed is home to a Brown Turkey fig tree that seems to like its environment very well--I had to prune it back severely last fall to keep it from global domination.

Last fall I brought in a pot of dill and, to my surprise, it did well and provided me with fresh dill weed for my scrambled eggs etc. all through the winter and spring. It's looking kinda sad now, but I have two pots of dill on the porch, waiting to come inside in the fall.

When we first began to talk about adding a greenhouse using sliding glass door panels for glazing, a friend scoffed. All the homemade greenhouses he'd seen, he advised us, tended to self-destruct after about five years.
Well, it's true the little ventilation windows are getting a bit funky. (A fall project for John in the workshop.) But the date of construction, according to the record etched in concrete inside, is 1984. Forty years! 
(Bozozo Construction was the name of John's short-lived, ad hoc construction company that was hired to remodel a restaurant into a health clinic. Bozozo was what a very young Ethan called bulldozers. And the motto of the company was We're All Bozos on This Bus (cue Firesign Theater.)

For All the Good Fathers