A Garden Moment

For the first time in several years we have garden. Granted, it’s small, but still, it’s a garden. We have harvested two batches of spinach and the snow peas are starting to really show up. The broccolis have heads and the tomatoes are starting to form tiny green fruit. The bush beans have a way to go yet, but no doubt they too will have their day.

Here I am in the garden with Ursa, picking snow peas. It's a wonderful thing. Ursa concurs. I caught her pulling a snow pea off the vine and eating it. I’m sure she has done this on more than one occasion!

We've had bumper crop of yellow irises this year. They came from California, brought to us by my mother. Over the years the original clump has been divided and divided again until now we have them all over the yard. Behind them is another row of snow peas.

This is a Columbine with a happy bee gathering pollen and nectar. I had to wait for her to appear as she completely disappeared into the flower.

And here are Rose Campions. In the back is another clump of yellow irises.

The Flowers

by Rober Louis Stevenson

All the names I know from nurse:

Gardener's garters, Shepherd's purse,

Bachelor's buttons, Lady's smock,

And the Lady Hollyhock.

Fairy place, fairy things,

Fairy woods where the wild bee wings,

Tiny trees for tiny dames --

These must all be fairy names!

Tiny woods below whose boughs

Shady fairies weave a house;

Tiny tree-tops, rose and thyme,

Where the braver fairies climb!

Fair are grown-up people's trees,

But the fairest woods are these;

Where, if I were not so tall,

I should live for good and all.

Tagged!

I have been tagged! I've heard about being tagged, but this is my first try at this game. I hope I can follow the rules, which are:

1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people and post a comment to Vijaya's blog once you've posted your three sentences.

The nearest book happens to be Oscar Wild: Complete Short Fiction. On page 123 we have the story "The Devoted Friend." (Hmmm...coincidence or cosmic forces at work?)

Here are the three sentences:
It was a very wild night, and the wind was blowing and roaring round the house so terribly that at first he thought it was merely the storm. But a second rap came, and then a third, louder than either of the others.
"It is some poor traveller," said little Hans to himself, and he ran to the door.

I hope these next five people will forgive my impertinence for passing the tag on to them.
Susan at: Susan Sandmore
Donna at: wordwrangler
Angela at: Making Sense of Life
Janelle at: writermorphosis
Peta at: Peta's Journal


And, I have learned something: how to post a link to other blogs!

Stan

It’s my Sweetie’s birthday today. He’s as handsome as ever and doesn’t look a day over 50! (And I’m not telling how old he is.)

He’s a good man, Stan is. Honest, loyal, generous, thoughtful, smart (even if he doesn’t think so) and most importantly, loving. He showers all of these wonderful qualities on me, for which at times I do not feel deserving. I’m blessed to be so loved.

Here he is looking thoughtfully out into space. This was taken at least five or six years ago. There’s the hint of a long strand of hair escaping.

And he grew it out just for me. A few years ago he cut it off because it got in the way of his working on The Car. I completely understand. Nothing like getting a pony tail caught up in the wheels of a creeper! OUCH.

Here he is working on The Car, a ’57 Chevy. He’s getting close to starting the engine! He’s done most of the work himself, learning as he goes. He’s had to think outside the box on more than one occasion. He’s managed to solve every problem that has come up. When he wants to learn something he reads, he asks questions and he picks people’s brains, then he reads some more. He refuses to give up.

Here he is making cuttings from a plant. For 18 years he grew plants, mostly herbs, for wholesale. He taught himself how to do that too. Except for helping his dad out in the garden when he was a kid he didn't know anything about growing plants. By the time he "retired" from it last year, he had two greenhouses on the back half of our property. He grew beautiful plants that were as near to organic as he could get without being certified.

As might be expected, our yard is full of plants and trees. We keep adding more even though we

really don’t have the room, yet somehow we

always manage to find a spot.

Stan likes to read, car magazines and science fiction mostly. But he reads lots of other stuff. He likes to star gaze and will stand outside on a cold winter’s night with the binoculars looking for star clusters. He likes to keep food in the bird feeder so that we can sit on our porch and watch and listen to our feathered friends. He eats most anything I put in front of him. He helps A LOT around the house.

He’s my Sweetie and I love him.

Happy Birthday, Stan.

Tatting

One of the things I do besides writing is tatting.

Tatting is an old form of lace making, made on one's hands using a shuttle wound with thread. I don't know much about its history. But it's old. Some say it goes all the way back to ancient Egypt. Other's, that it's a more recent development, two or three hundred years old. The "golden age" of tatting was during the Victorian Era. Because it is time comsuming, it was mostly the well-to-do ladies who tatted. They would gather for tea and, like a sewing or quilting bee, sit around, drink tea, talk and tat. Women would even take their tatting to church with them during the long Sunday services. It is a hand-craft that, compared to crocheting or knitting, is small and easy to carry around.

Basically tatting is half-hitch knots, like macrame. Fishermen who knotted nets using large shuttles may have been the original tatters. Unlike crocheting and knitting when you make a mistake you can't simply rip it out. You either have to untie each knot or cut out the mistake and start again.



Tatting isn't really difficult, but it does take time to produce a small piece.



Wherever and however it started, tatting makes a lovely delicate lace with infinite variations. I had my one and only tatting lesson when I was in my early 20's. A woman (who I thought was old - she was probably as old as I am now) showed me the basics of holding a shuttle and tying the knots. I never did anything with it until about four years ago. I taught myself what I know from books. I consider myself still a novice; there are techniques I have yet to master, patterns that are still too complicated and difficult for me to follow. But, what I do make I enjoy making. And, once a month for about 7 months out of the year I take my "stuff" to a craft show and sell it. I make enough to "feed my habit," in other words, enough to buy more thread and books.



Me with all my STUFF! I have greeting cards, book marks, edged hankerchiefs, earrings, necklaces, hair barrettes and a christening gown, to name a few items.










A Bible marker - I make these in many different colors
















A peacock book mark



















A seahorse book mark - I also make book marks that look like a pig, butterfly, alligator, snake, swan, snail and lion