summer — Page 4

Lemon Verbena

June 24, 2010 by The Noisy Plume

Today, between a visit to the chiropractor (same old problem of displaced ribs…yes…feeling better now thank you), an excursion for a bundle of packing tape, watching the dogs race around the dog park, photographing and listing new pieces, washing the dishes, seeing a house guest off and weeding the rose garden,

I stopped over at the nursery to pick up a new mint plant.

I already have a mint plant. It’s Moroccan mint and it’s only half as potent as I’d like it to be. In point of fact, I like it less than the wild mint that grows around beaver ponds or Northern bogs. It’s good stuff but it’s somewhat less robust than a good and gangly chocolate mint plant growing in the back yard. So I snaggled one of those for myself and while strolling away from the herb section at the nursery, I keeled over when I caught a whiff of something divine and when I figured out what it was that smelled so luscious, I brought it home as well:

It’s lemon verbena.

It smells like the wings of angels.

And I love it.

I will name it Millicent and concoct teas and potions with it

and together we will be two very happy things that belong to the green

and bow down to the ether. Gladly.

I’ve been thinking, quite a lot, about why on earth I enjoy gardening so well. Let’s face it, it’s hard work. There’s always something to be thinned, weeded, watered, hoed, staked or harvested. There are pests, deer, rock chucks, rabbits, bugs, Penelope and the chickens who will want to eat it first. The sun tries to burn it up. The wind tries to blow it all down. The hail tries to bruise it to bits and pulverize it to smithereens. Once you start a garden, it doesn’t end until it’s finished producing or the frosts come and slay it stealthily and quietly with icy fingers in the night under the light of the Big Dipper.

Unless you live somewhere tropical, it all seems rather futile (excluding perennials). Doesn’t it?

But then this evening, whilst sitting in the rose garden, watching the sun drop down, and moving with the motion of a quiet summer breeze I realized I garden because it feels good to be part of the growth of plants. They need me and I need what they produce whether it’s food or beauty. I crave it. There’s a healthy and symbiotic relationship between my garden and I. A give and take, for certain.

Plus, when things are really bolting and looking brilliant, here at The Gables, it’s so satisfying to sit on the front porch with a book and a cold drink in the dawdling evening light while listening to strangers comment on the beautiful and darling little home of mine as they walk past with their dogs.

Satisfying indeed.

So I guess what I’m saying is,

if you can,

whenever you want,

do come on by for lemon verbena, raspberry leaf and mint tea

in the evening sometime.

Penelope will delight in keeping your lap warm

and we’ll delight in watching the sun swing West

before the sky opens up and the stars rain down.

Filed Under: garden, plume gables, summer

For the Sweet and Refined Tooth:

June 21, 2010 by The Noisy Plume

Behold!

The Rosemary Lemon Shortbread Cookie

You’ll need:

2 cups flour

1tsp sea salt

1 cup of unsalted butter (room temperature)

2/3 cup of sugar

zest of one lemon — Please find something nice to do with the rest of this lemon, there’s nothing half so glum looking as a lemon without it’s skin.

1/2 cup of finely chopped walnuts –If you want to pulverize them, that’s fine too.

3tbs finely chopped fresh rosemary — I love cooking and baking with fresh rosemary, it’s somewhat like cooking or baking with a tiny spruce tree and we all know how I dearly love spruce trees…

To do:

Whisk flour and salt together in a medium bowl. In a separate bowl cream the butter until light and fluffy. Add the sugar and lemon zest and mix again. Add the flour mixture, nuts and rosemary and mix until combined.

Turn the dough out on to a lightly floured surface and shape the two discs, wrap in waxed paper (What’s the American term for this stuff??? It’s on the tip of my tongue…) and chill for an hour or so. The cooler this dough is, the easier it is to handle. Roll the dough out to 1/4 inch thick and use a cookie cutter to cut various shapes from the dough.

Put these cookie cuttings on a cookie sheet and bake at 350F for 10-12 minutes or until their little bottoms begin to brown. Cool on the cookie sheet for 5 minutes before transferring these gems to a wire rack for complete cooling.

Jillian Notes:

1. When it comes to shortbread, DO NOT skimp on the butter. There will be regrets.

2. Frankly, I like my shortbread thicker than a 1/4 inch so I roll to 3/4 of an inch thick before cutting.

3. If you play it straight when it comes to cookies, a simple round shortbread cut out will suffice but I like eating star cookies. I get to chomp off the arms of the star, one by one, and then at the end it’s rather satisfying to pop the star heart in my mouth. It’s the sweetest way to torture a cookie.

4. Lastly, have you ever eaten a frozen shortbread cookie? Well it’s delightful and refreshing, as cookies go and since it’s summer, it might be one of the best ways to eat these little beauties.

While I whack away at business this morning I’m taking two of these dandy little cookies with a glass of flowering tea. I’m so refined, I’m like a brick of gold.

Bottoms up, sweet bluebirds!

And happy first day of summer to you of the Northern hemisphere!

Pop into a frock, put some flowers in your hair

and love the light!

PLUME

PS And WHERE oh WHERE will you watch the sunset from this evening?

Filed Under: cookies, recipe, summer

Fragments of a Summer Afternoon:

June 21, 2010 by The Noisy Plume

Summer has arrived at The Gables! I love the in between months, spring and fall. Their titles are apt and in those seasons when the world is rolling into the living and the dead I feel so energized by the changing everything. This said, one of the loveliest things about spring is the way it feels like we’re all waiting for summer. Gauging the advance of hot weather by the height of the tulips and the greenness of the growth that surrounds us. There is the slow watch of unfolding spring bulbs into tulip, crocus, hyacinth, amaryllis and then eventually poppy, iris and allium.

The slow pace of spring is gradually and fiercely gorgeous .

Then one morning we wake up and those spring beauties have faded away like macarons in a French patisserie window and the curtains of our worlds pull back to reveal summer standing in full glory with hair to her waist and sandals on her feet. She is hot, bare armed and about to toss lightning bolts and singing rains from her fingertips.

How sudden.

How sharp.

How simple.

She hit the switch and the world is made of

the fragrance of clematis, the taste of popsicles and the swing of croquet mallets.

God bless that summertime.

She always arrives just in the nick of time.

This afternoon I have spread a blanket out on the lawn, beneath the plum trees, in the cool of dappled shade. It’s windy. I’m listening to the voice of air as it speaks through the trees. Air is nothing without a vessel with which to make itself known. I know it is because I hear it combing through the stature of the blue spruce, elm, catalpa and plum trees. I know it is because I hear it moving bird song with it’s muscle. I know it is because I can watch it push at the world around me, symphonic, as though it has the hands of a conductor and the music is for the making. I know it is because I feel it passing over my skin and smoothing running fingers through my hair.

I cannot taste it unless it carries dust into my open mouth

nor can I smell it until pushes the scent of lilacs up against my ol factory senses.

I cannot see it unless it’s controlling the world

around me (for all things must bend to the wishes of the wind).

I cannot understand it unless I watch it manipulate my environment.

This is what I’m busy with today.

I’m understanding the wind.

A beautiful Sabbath to you all.

I hope you found rest for your souls.

The Plume

PS I know there have been plenty of creature photos lately so if you loathe creatures, my apologies, certainly! I’ve been photographing the beasts a plenty for RW namely. He reads this blog by phone in his smokejumper bunk house. I know he misses our beasties and am trying to help take the edge off with the odd handful of images of our fur and feather babies as often as possible. If you’re fit to be tied by all the fur and feathers just do slow blinks while you’re scrolling through my blog and I promise you’ll nearly miss it all!

PSS

The new neighbor is moving in. I was taking out the compost while he was unloading his truck. I’d have stopped to say hello but he had a phone growing out of his head. On the seat of his truck was a taxidermied duck in a glass box. Now read my tea leaves please — what on earth could it mean?!!

Filed Under: idaho, plume gables, summer

Summer Begins

May 15, 2010 by The Noisy Plume

I don’t judge the start of summer by any particular date or outdoor temperatures. Nor do I claim it begins when my tomatoes are of a certain height or when the raspberry patch reaches a certain level of prolific productivity. It does not start, for me, on some lingering solstice when the sky spins with an eternal twilight and the thick scent of wildflowers on the mountain slopes makes my lungs slow and romantic.

I mark the start of summer when he leaves.

It ends when he comes home.

I just sent him to Winthrop, Washington to attend 2010 smokejumping rookie training — to jump out of air planes and fight forest fires. I just sent him on what might be the adventure of a lifetime and quite possibly to the most difficult physical (and mental) experiences he’ll ever have in life! But I won’t be outdone in this realm and I plan to have my own adventures this summer. Lots of them. My head and heart are in excellent spaces, I’m feeling light as a feather.

I stake my claim on this season
and will draw from it
only the
very
best
good.

Bon voyage, best friend and lover.

My heart is steadfast.

And I believe in you.

Wish him luck!

Send him positivity, prayers and strength!

See you about, chickadees!

Filed Under: fire fighting, smokejumping, summer