Saturday, April 18, 2009
It's Muddy Hands Day!
At last, warm enough, and unobstructed time enough in one long stretch , to do some major gardening today! And , believe me, I am not a pretty sight on such days, but i am pig-in-the-mud happy....no Martha Stewart, casual clean and hair perfect gardener am I ...the downer and muddier and wormier I can get, the better I like it...and as exhausting as my methods are (one does burn calories planting and playing around in the soil), there is no place I would rather be....I remember so well the times when Paul and I would buy 40 or 50 plants at a nursery or market, go home and in the pouring showers, plant them in the beds we had so laboriously dug out of the stony soil of Upstate New York...we used to call the hundreds of stones we had to wrest the soil from "Putnam County potatoes"...a local label...and if it was raining too hard, either Paul or i would hold an umbrella as a shield over the other...and into the soft, wet, maternal soil, we would gently insinuate each baby plant...the feeling of warm Summer wetness everywhere on and around and in some cases in my body, was ecstatic...i remember once thinking I WAS an earthworm....(rather a morbid thought)...in any event, i have since learned that planting in the rain is not all that nutritious for the plants themselves, as the rain waters dilute and soften the soil in ways that were not good for the establishing of the root systems,etc....but right then, I could have cared less about the science...i was into the sensuous art of it , the feeling of it , not the fact....and , on sunny, rain-free days, working for hours under the sun, over the hard-won beds at the Upstate House, i also remember loving the taste of my own soily sweat....sunburn, dirt, salty sweat, Miracle-Gro and small plant life...I was one with it and felt somehow home. Nope...no Martha Stewart I...and i wore the very oldest and shabbiest of my clothing...clothes out of which mud stains were destined never to disappear after my hard use of them. Ah the golden days of discovering gardening for the very first time: and that brings to mind Cleveland.
Yes...Cleveland...I had gone to THe Cleveland Playhouse, at the sweet but ill-advised request of a then friend to be in a re-mounting of QUILTERS, and Paul had just bought the glorious house Upstate. He made me promise , when I accepted the Cleveland job, to read all I could while I was away on the subject of deer-repellant planting and what things to plant on the steep sides of a pond, since the newly acquired Upstate House had both a large deer population And a pond with steep banks! I said i would become the perfect gardener while away.
Little did I know that the wonderful town of Cleveland had an extraordinary Horticultural Society? And that that very Library, gorgeously stocked with books on every known gardening topic and lovely people to guide me to them, would become my refuge when the strains of working on that particular production got too much to bear. The Cleveland Gardening and Horticultural Society and the astonishing Rock and Roll Hall of Fame...well, those two places saved my life that particular cold and eternal Winter.....i read and read and read, books on deer-repellant plants, on soil conservation plants, ...i learned for the first time that deer hated BTS: Bad Tasting Stuff, and that if they were hungry enough, they would eat it anyway...i volunteered to work inn the gardens at the Society whenever the terrible Lake-effect weather allowed, and at the end of my time there, they gave me an honorary pin and hat of the SOciety, and I wear the hat to garden in still. I took notes daily, like the most avid student...I learned for the first time that plants and flowers were my friends, when people were not.
I had a great Cleveland experience, totally unconnected to the theater, and when I think of gardening, Paul, plantings and escape into nature, I remember CLeveland. I also took home flats and floats of wonderful plantings they cleaned from their extensive gardens and put them on the banks of the pond Upstate....in that small way, Cleveland became a part of my life forever, I guess. And i began to understand the metaphorical connection between gardening and Life.
Speaking of Life, gotta go buy a baby shower gift for wonderful friends expecting their first child...more later.
Yes...Cleveland...I had gone to THe Cleveland Playhouse, at the sweet but ill-advised request of a then friend to be in a re-mounting of QUILTERS, and Paul had just bought the glorious house Upstate. He made me promise , when I accepted the Cleveland job, to read all I could while I was away on the subject of deer-repellant planting and what things to plant on the steep sides of a pond, since the newly acquired Upstate House had both a large deer population And a pond with steep banks! I said i would become the perfect gardener while away.
Little did I know that the wonderful town of Cleveland had an extraordinary Horticultural Society? And that that very Library, gorgeously stocked with books on every known gardening topic and lovely people to guide me to them, would become my refuge when the strains of working on that particular production got too much to bear. The Cleveland Gardening and Horticultural Society and the astonishing Rock and Roll Hall of Fame...well, those two places saved my life that particular cold and eternal Winter.....i read and read and read, books on deer-repellant plants, on soil conservation plants, ...i learned for the first time that deer hated BTS: Bad Tasting Stuff, and that if they were hungry enough, they would eat it anyway...i volunteered to work inn the gardens at the Society whenever the terrible Lake-effect weather allowed, and at the end of my time there, they gave me an honorary pin and hat of the SOciety, and I wear the hat to garden in still. I took notes daily, like the most avid student...I learned for the first time that plants and flowers were my friends, when people were not.
I had a great Cleveland experience, totally unconnected to the theater, and when I think of gardening, Paul, plantings and escape into nature, I remember CLeveland. I also took home flats and floats of wonderful plantings they cleaned from their extensive gardens and put them on the banks of the pond Upstate....in that small way, Cleveland became a part of my life forever, I guess. And i began to understand the metaphorical connection between gardening and Life.
Speaking of Life, gotta go buy a baby shower gift for wonderful friends expecting their first child...more later.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Grey Skies Smilin' At Me....
....nothin' but grey skies do I see...yet another day of rain here..and whereas I am fully appreciative of the fact that our fields, flowers and farms need this water (and in fact there has been so much rain, that according the weather news we are in the surplus column for rainfall after too long a time of drought) I still feel under the weather this day....probably several reasons for that...
A marvelous - and I do mean delicious and interesting - dinner party last evening at the home of Linda and David W....out at their gorgeous home on Holston Lake...this home is particularly gorgeous because David's hobby (he's so good at it, it's rather humble to call it a hobby),is woodwork, and home construction,etc. And what they have done to this already charmingly "seated" house on a hill overlooking verdant farm fields and gentle hills, is so perfect and warm and charmingly detailed, it was a pleasure to be there, from the moment we walked through the doors. It had begun a drenching downpour of springtime rains by the time we were on our way out there, and though it is also springtime warm, the evening had the feel of early Fall about it, and a blazing fire was there to greet us immediately on entering their stunning living room. And the rest of the long, well-fed evening took its cue from that evident warmth and glow.
A marvelous - and I do mean delicious and interesting - dinner party last evening at the home of Linda and David W....out at their gorgeous home on Holston Lake...this home is particularly gorgeous because David's hobby (he's so good at it, it's rather humble to call it a hobby),is woodwork, and home construction,etc. And what they have done to this already charmingly "seated" house on a hill overlooking verdant farm fields and gentle hills, is so perfect and warm and charmingly detailed, it was a pleasure to be there, from the moment we walked through the doors. It had begun a drenching downpour of springtime rains by the time we were on our way out there, and though it is also springtime warm, the evening had the feel of early Fall about it, and a blazing fire was there to greet us immediately on entering their stunning living room. And the rest of the long, well-fed evening took its cue from that evident warmth and glow.
Delicious wines -a variety of them - scrumptious foods (they do this hors-d'oeurvres of warm marinaded olives sprinkled with orange zest and rosemary...astonishingly tasty and intriguing to the tongue...and the beef bourginon was astonishingly , ravishingly delicious. And a great Port with dessert, which consisted of ripened pears, stilton cheeses and chocolate macaroons!
Yummy! Such a well-fed evening!
So I am probably feeling the depressive effects of all that delicious wine!
Because I do feel rather low today: the world looks sort of shabby and grey..and my thoughts are much the same shade of shab.
Can't help it....it happens. But right now I am sitting in the dark brown leather chair with Cyrano at my feet , and we are watching the Avian Cafe 's bluebird customers nibble away at the seed in the feeder. It's a gorgeous sight: the dark pink of the weeping cherry blossoms punctuated by the electric blue glide of a nibbling jay and the startling red shock of a hungry cardinal....and now the sun is shining! YAY! Perhaps it will shine Easter into existence tomorrow. What a nice tribute. Bluejays and cardinals, when perched in the cherry tree together make a glorious summation on behalf of Springtime. I sit and wait for such pictures to compose themselves. I pray it adjusts my attitude and spirit.
Every so often, what we humans endeavor to accomplish both eludes and discourages me. Because we so often so very far off the mark....off goal....mired in drudging exhausted plodding, with edges blurring and minds numbing. Yellow leather gloves, cheerful and unexpected, are what is needed. Something to awaken the tastebuds for life, to shock the sleeping brain awake to possibility. Possibility. That's what is lacking lately. Oh GOd, there's another bright red cardinal...with that cunning little black bandit's mask on his tiny beaked face....he's very happy eating from the perfectly hung copper birdfeeder!
I'm rambling....perfectly fitting, considering my mood.
Labels: Barter Musings, Springtime in Virginia
Friday, April 10, 2009
Behold!
".....it is the Springtime of the year...over and gone is Winter's gloomy reign!"....words to an old Passover song i vaguely remember from religious school at The Temple on Peachtree Street in my hometown of Atlanta. And it's melody stays with me as well, from a childhood spent in the synagogue choral group...we used to take the bus from school (elementary ,I think) and stop at he CrossRoads Restaurant across the street from the Temple and buy white cardboard boxes filled with freshly cut French fired potatoes, drown them in spicy red ketchup and secretively nibble them in the sanctuary balcony when we were not practicing...i remember the salty sweet taste of those hot snacks like it was yesterday. ...the start of a life-long love affair with potatoes. A religious experience.
Today is Good Friday....exactly why it is good eludes me, as the entire tale of Jesus Christ is so filled with excruciating blood and sorrow and pain...Passion, indeed....but the best part of course is that renewal thing I wrote of a few blogs ago: He rose on the third day, and that is enough good for sure. Anything that comes back to life after seeming dead as a doornail...well: let's paint some eggs pretty colors to celebrate that!
THE PASSOVER BUNNY
‘Twas the night before Easter,
And as was the habit,
In the deep hours of morning
There sat an Old Rabbit
On the floor by the firelight,
Cloaked in his myst’ry.
Again he had come
To set straight Springtime hist’ry:
“Yes, it’s true, though you may think
My mission quite funny,
I’ve come to tell tales
Of THE PASSOVER BUNNY !!
A creature far dearer than chocolate or honey:
Yes, the Passover, Passover , Passover Bunny!
What we think we know now
Is all hogwash and syrup,
Misconceptions begun back in First Century Europe
When the Saxons loved Eastre,
A goddess so raucous,
She fertilized Spring as a sexual caucus!
And since her pet animal was a large Hare,
The legend of “the Eastre Bunny” starts there!
But the truth is –
A truth that will make your hair curlier-
Is that Spring Rabbit honors began so much earlier!
Let me take you back now to the hot desert sands,
Back to Egypt, the home of the Pharoahs’ vast lands:
We all know Egyptians then worshipped the Cat.
(Tho’ we rabbits could never quite understand that.)
But suffice it to say that mankind has its habits,
And the Hebrews more wisely gave honor to Rabbits.
More wisely because we are not only cuter,
But we have a biology far more ‘astuter’!
Because we are lagomorphs ,
Superfetation allows us two litters at once –
No vacation!!
We are, oh, so unique, (it’s great fun), also useful,
Historical too, since we’re here to be truthful.
Y’see, it’s how we came , as part of the story
To hop down the path of old His’try’s long story:
For, when the mean Pharaoh turned Jews into slaves,
To move all those rocks, we hopped out of our caves;
While Jews sweated by day, to set each stone in lime,
Bunnies came out at night, to help them save time!
We willingly chained our soft selves’ into gangs,
Got the Pyramids built! Thereby History hangs!
And when we ran short of our own Bunny Power
Wondrous superfetation made more in an hour!
We worked side by side with the Jews we respected,
And, as a result, we’re forever connected!
With Moses we exodused,
Helped him part the Red Sea,
Bunny-hopped through the desert,
Our mespocha , all free!
Now you ask yourself why doesn’t Hist’ry record
Bunnies’ fabulous deeds?
Now I don’t want you bored
‘Cuz this poem runs long, but to be really frank,
It was those thoughtful Jews that we have to thank.
For in telling of feats both Human and Bunny.
They played ‘round with Hist’ry,
Did a trick or two, funny:
They decided to take all the weight on themselves,
Thus assigning the Bunny to Obscurity’s shelves.
For they knew that if people began to think Rabbits
Could lift heavy loads, they’d develop bad habits
Of working all Bunnies right down to the bone!
And they wanted all Humans to leave Buns alone!
They wanted us free to be furry and sweet,
To spend time being fertile and lucky of feet!
So to pay Bunnies back for our help so well placed
Our part in the story’s been all but erased!
AND FOR THAT WE ARE GRATEFUL,
For, you see, it’s sublime
To be given the gift of both leisure and time
To further our furriness, make pretty eggs,
Oh that’s right, Chickens do that,
And there’s no time to seg-
Ue into that story…
Next year I’ll do that:
I’ll tell you the story of The Big Easter Hat
And how it turned out that the Bunnies’ decor
Made of chicks’ ornate eggs
Had folks begging for more.
But for now I shall leave you, with goodies to taste,
As you ruminate over old History’s waste
Of a tale rarely told, of the Jews’ friends so sunny:
The rare humorous Tale of
THE PASSOVER BUNNY!!’’
Evalyn Baron - Easter 2007
(read aloud to the pretty strict rhythms of "Twas the night before Christmas..." this 2007 poem of mine tells you a little known story of the bunny/chicken Passover/Easter legend! ENJOY!)
Today is Good Friday....exactly why it is good eludes me, as the entire tale of Jesus Christ is so filled with excruciating blood and sorrow and pain...Passion, indeed....but the best part of course is that renewal thing I wrote of a few blogs ago: He rose on the third day, and that is enough good for sure. Anything that comes back to life after seeming dead as a doornail...well: let's paint some eggs pretty colors to celebrate that!
THE PASSOVER BUNNY
‘Twas the night before Easter,
And as was the habit,
In the deep hours of morning
There sat an Old Rabbit
On the floor by the firelight,
Cloaked in his myst’ry.
Again he had come
To set straight Springtime hist’ry:
“Yes, it’s true, though you may think
My mission quite funny,
I’ve come to tell tales
Of THE PASSOVER BUNNY !!
A creature far dearer than chocolate or honey:
Yes, the Passover, Passover , Passover Bunny!
What we think we know now
Is all hogwash and syrup,
Misconceptions begun back in First Century Europe
When the Saxons loved Eastre,
A goddess so raucous,
She fertilized Spring as a sexual caucus!
And since her pet animal was a large Hare,
The legend of “the Eastre Bunny” starts there!
But the truth is –
A truth that will make your hair curlier-
Is that Spring Rabbit honors began so much earlier!
Let me take you back now to the hot desert sands,
Back to Egypt, the home of the Pharoahs’ vast lands:
We all know Egyptians then worshipped the Cat.
(Tho’ we rabbits could never quite understand that.)
But suffice it to say that mankind has its habits,
And the Hebrews more wisely gave honor to Rabbits.
More wisely because we are not only cuter,
But we have a biology far more ‘astuter’!
Because we are lagomorphs ,
Superfetation allows us two litters at once –
No vacation!!
We are, oh, so unique, (it’s great fun), also useful,
Historical too, since we’re here to be truthful.
Y’see, it’s how we came , as part of the story
To hop down the path of old His’try’s long story:
For, when the mean Pharaoh turned Jews into slaves,
To move all those rocks, we hopped out of our caves;
While Jews sweated by day, to set each stone in lime,
Bunnies came out at night, to help them save time!
We willingly chained our soft selves’ into gangs,
Got the Pyramids built! Thereby History hangs!
And when we ran short of our own Bunny Power
Wondrous superfetation made more in an hour!
We worked side by side with the Jews we respected,
And, as a result, we’re forever connected!
With Moses we exodused,
Helped him part the Red Sea,
Bunny-hopped through the desert,
Our mespocha , all free!
Now you ask yourself why doesn’t Hist’ry record
Bunnies’ fabulous deeds?
Now I don’t want you bored
‘Cuz this poem runs long, but to be really frank,
It was those thoughtful Jews that we have to thank.
For in telling of feats both Human and Bunny.
They played ‘round with Hist’ry,
Did a trick or two, funny:
They decided to take all the weight on themselves,
Thus assigning the Bunny to Obscurity’s shelves.
For they knew that if people began to think Rabbits
Could lift heavy loads, they’d develop bad habits
Of working all Bunnies right down to the bone!
And they wanted all Humans to leave Buns alone!
They wanted us free to be furry and sweet,
To spend time being fertile and lucky of feet!
So to pay Bunnies back for our help so well placed
Our part in the story’s been all but erased!
AND FOR THAT WE ARE GRATEFUL,
For, you see, it’s sublime
To be given the gift of both leisure and time
To further our furriness, make pretty eggs,
Oh that’s right, Chickens do that,
And there’s no time to seg-
Ue into that story…
Next year I’ll do that:
I’ll tell you the story of The Big Easter Hat
And how it turned out that the Bunnies’ decor
Made of chicks’ ornate eggs
Had folks begging for more.
But for now I shall leave you, with goodies to taste,
As you ruminate over old History’s waste
Of a tale rarely told, of the Jews’ friends so sunny:
The rare humorous Tale of
THE PASSOVER BUNNY!!’’
Evalyn Baron - Easter 2007
(read aloud to the pretty strict rhythms of "Twas the night before Christmas..." this 2007 poem of mine tells you a little known story of the bunny/chicken Passover/Easter legend! ENJOY!)
