And introducing...my first spring flower of the year!

(It's the same flower from a different angle. I was just really excited.)

Divide and (not quite) conquer

Today was one of those February days in Portland that teases and titillates.

Sunshine!

60 degrees!

Singing birds!

Goodness, it must be springtime!

Okay, not quite. But we're getting close. I acquired my first purchased flowers of the season, 2 sweet primroses from my grandfather. After he divided them from the tray this afternoon, he rushed me out the door because he wanted to make sure they would make it home without dying, because I insisted on putting them in a temporary container that was too small, and which he insisted on loading up with potting soil.

"Papa, I'll be home in half an hour, they'll be fine."

"Well...alright. But go right home and plant them."

(Please don't tell him I stopped at the market for dinner ingredients. He might stroke out.)

A side note on my grandfather and flowers: Since my grandmother passed away last year, he has been almost religious in keeping with many of the gardening practices she kept. For instance, the strip along the driveway must be planted with the correct color of geraniums. And the section under the eve on the south side of the house must be planted with the correct number of begonias. I'm not even kidding.

Since the weather was so nice, I thought it wise to take advantage of it and work on a project and not just sit inside, fold laundry, and watch bad television Law & Order on TNT. It was imperative that I dig up and divide up my dahlia tubers this year. By the time I got around to it last year, it was too late and the dahlias were already sprouting up.

Oh.
My.
Stars.

Let's not skip a year again, k? Out of the 11 different tuber masses I dug up, no fewer than 5 of them had to be put into full-sized paper grocery bags for temporary storage. A couple of them were even double-bagged for safety reasons. My point is (in case you're lost): I have many, many dahlia tubers. And we're running out of space in our garden beds right now, until we take out more lawn and the crappy shrubs I don't like. Luckily, I seem to have many friends in town who are not only willing, but excited to take some off my hands.

I expect in a few years, I will be getting an email from these friends asking if I'm in need of dahlia tubers. What goes around comes around, I guess.

Waking up again

Yes, it's true I've been away from my blog for awhile. Between the busy holidays at work and my tendency to hibernate afterwards, I took an unplanned break.

So as much as I procrastinate when it comes to actually dealing with my yard, I have really loved looking through the seed and plant catalogs I've been receiving lately. By temporarily suspending reality, I can browse all of the pretty new plants and flowers and think about what would look great in the yard. Never mind that we are currently out of space for planting (until we finish the planter boxes in the backyard.)

Please join me on my journey through Pretendsville:

One of the new catalogs I've started receiving is Annie's Annuals and Perennials. I really like how you can browse by flower color as well as plant type. And the Annie's Favorite's section is fun. Even though she specializes in California native plants, there are plenty of options that will work for my climate.

One of my favorite companies is High Country Gardens. They specialize in xeriscape, or "water-wise" plants, meaning once the plants are established, they will need very little water.We ordered some of their pre-planned gardens, the Xeric aroma garden. This is only the second year we've had it in the ground, so it still looks fairly sparse, but it already looks good. I love all of the plants in the bunch, but I think my favorite of them is the ornamental oregano.
It reminds me of hops flowers. And the way the plants were packed for shipping was ingenious. In fact, one of the salvias was blooming when we unpacked them!

And, of course, you all know I love Dahlias. I haven't ordered any new ones, and I may not this year. That whole nonsense of nowhere to plant them yet. Not to mention I need to divide my existing dahlia tubers, which will yield even more. So maybe I'll get some new ones next year.

Thanks for joining me on my travels today. I promise not to be gone so long this time!

I'm pretty sure that--somewhere, somehow--my Nana is laughing at me

In true holiday form for me, I decided to make something last-minute in the kitchen.

My grandfather has been feeling particularly lonely and blue lately, so I thought a batch of his special fudge Nana used to make him would be in order. I remember as a kid being fascinated by the fact that Papa had his own special fudge that would sit in a covered candy dish on the side table next to his rocking chair. I always thought it was disgusting--dark, dense, and on the bitter side. Why would anyone eat that when they could have some the other fudge, the "Fantasy Fudge", that was basically brown-flavored marshmallow fluff. That's really what it's called--"Fantasy Fudge"--I didn't just make that up.

Now, as an adult, I really appreciate his kind. Sure, it's still sugary, but I like dark chocolate better than milk chocolate. So when I was down visiting last week, I pulled out Nana's old recipe box and copied down the recipe for "Jackson's Fudge", as she had written on the card.

Side note: Anyone who has ever looked at old recipes from family members can tell you that often these recipes aren't complete or even precise. You are as likely to find "a handful of flour" on the ingredient list as you are to find an ingredient list without cooking/baking instructions following it. The latter was true of this recipe, but a quick search on the internet solved the dilemma. Thanks, Al Gore!

So I set to making the fudge last night. I had even bought a candy thermometer so I would know when the temperature reached "soft ball stage." But dang it, it never got hot enough, it just kept boiling and boiling...and boiling, until the moisture had nearly evaporated. A quick test using the "old-fashioned" method of putting a drop of the fudge in a dish of cold water told me that it had indeed reached soft ball stage. But probably 10 minutes earlier. It was most likely closer to hard crack stage when I tested it (and not that kind, either. At least I could have sold some of that to make a bit of cash.) So I immediately pulled it off the heat and added the butter and vanilla, during which the fudge started to set up and I had to scrape hard, dried up chocolate stuff out of the pan and spatula. It definitely still tastes fine, but it's dry and crumbly.

Papa's not getting any fudge this year.

By 'Spirit' do you mean Bourbon? Yes, I've got some.

I had every intention of calling off Christmas this year.

Obviously, my years in retail have jaded me just a little bit to the joy I used to find in the season.

But far beyond that, my grandmother--who passed away in March--was one of the biggest fans of Christmas I have ever met. Not Christmas as in Christ's birthday (I would characterize my family as largely atheist), and not Christmas as in super-tacky lawn/outdoor decor like those ridiculous inflatable snow-globes people have in their yards or a plethora of lights that light up the neighborhood even on the darkest of nights.

Nana's decorating consisted mostly of the same decorations she'd had since my mom and uncles were small--never-burned wax candles and figurines--and the collection of ornaments she had collected over the years that were always perfectly arranged on a perfect Noble Fir tree. In fact, the trees she selected year after year were so similar to each other, it prompted my cousin when he was younger to ask if the tree that was currently up and decorated was the same one she had the year before.

One tradition my grandmother started when my older and younger cousin and I were young was to buy an ornament for us every year. She continued to do this for her 5 grandchildren until last Christmas. The oldest one I could find was from 1976 (I was 6 years old.) In my adult life, I have only had a Christmas tree a few times, but have found ways to display my fairly large ornament collection either on wreaths or wires strung across a mantle.

This year, I resisted the spirit of Christmas as long as I could. The other night, though, I was at the store and saw 15' cedar garlands for sale, which I envisioned out on mantle with some decorations nestled in and others hanging from the wire The Husband put up a few years ago.
The result?




Speaking of The Husband (who I might not categorize as someone who gets in the spirit...) surprised me a couple of weeks ago by having me come home to this:

The Lazy Gift-Giver

It's true. I am lazy in other aspects of my life, not just when it comes to my yard. My friends and family might argue that my sometimes-physically demanding 40-hour-a-week job allows me to be lazy. I just hate that excuse.

When October rolls around, I start to think about all of the crafty things I could make as gifts to give out to loved ones in December. Yes, start to think. And then my work life gets crazy-busy, and the next thing I know, it's the beginning of December. And I realize the liqueurs and infusions I want to make should have been started in September, the solid shea butter I haven't ordered yet for various beauty projects will take a week to get here (to say nothing of the time it will take me to make the products once it arrives), and I really should have started making the candles back in October since I only have a few molds. And to be honest, sometimes I don't get my inspiration for my craft projects until after Thanksgiving.

Luckily, there are other people to make cool things and are willing to sell them. There's Crafty Wonderland, and all of the great independent shops all over Portland where industrious and creative people sell their labors of love. And have you been to Etsy? Be careful, it's addictive...if I could pass off some of the great things I've bought there as my own, I would.

So a big THANK YOU to these people for saving me this holiday season.