

The other great gift of Memorial Day weekend (besides and abundant crop of asparagus) is the perfume of autumn olives that fills the air. It is an aromatherapy for the soul. When will blogspot invent “scratch and sniff”?
Pullin' weeds and pickin' stones We are made of dreams and bones Need a place to grow my own 'Cause the time is close at hand ~ David Mallet


The other great gift of Memorial Day weekend (besides and abundant crop of asparagus) is the perfume of autumn olives that fills the air. It is an aromatherapy for the soul. When will blogspot invent “scratch and sniff”?
paint all those little red dots again. Timing the tomatoes is trickier this year because I will be away for 5 days next week and can’t decide whether to put them in ground before I leave or after I return. The wind has been fierce, and I only have wall-o-waters for six plants.
them in the ground, not in beds and they are so marked by the letter "A" on the garden plan.

This lobster pot on the porch has filled with water. Can you see it splashing from the rain?

Looking out the front door through the gauze of rain sheeting the glass.

Rain splashing on the deck.

rain dripping from the gutters

and there's more on the way
It is trying to eat our house. The branches don’t reach for the sun … oh no … they reach for the house. It’s as though they are drawn to cedar shake shingles as some exotic delicacy.
high in the wheelbarrow.
The vegetable garden is under renovation and it is a delightful new design. Beds are mounded, pathways are lowered and filled with wood chips, and there are two “meeting circles” within the garden where the children in the summer program will gather right in the heart of the garden. There is a welcoming, enveloping circular design to the entire garden. I did my part by weeding an overgrown spinach bed.
that I met the critters that would help to fill my freezer this May. There are two sheep breeds, Icelandic and Navajo-Churro. The Icelandic flock had just finished its lambing season with the exception of “Izzy” who seemed to be waiting for the full moon or some other natural force to help her out. The chickens being raised for market are a cross between Barred Plymouth Rock hens and Cornish hens. They are pasture raised and move about the field “Salatin style” in portable poultry structures that allow them to forage on fresh grass and bugs.
I had never taken notice of the shadbush until last year. April and May in my “other life” were spent focused indoors. Sadly, I barely knew there was a natural world out there as I prepped my students for their AP exams. But last spring at Walatoola I saw my first “serviceberry” and when I arrived in New England I was delighted to find one blooming on my own property. The folk etymology of serviceberry which is the preferred name in western Virginia comes from the American pioneer experience that when these came in bloom the land had thawed sufficiently to bury those who had died over the winter. Here in New England we call them shadbush because they coincide with the shad run.
Whoops! Since 3/4 of my radius is ocean, looks like I’ll be eating lots of fish and seaweed. So the logical first stop was at the local fish market. I asked the owner what was caught within a 100 mile radius. I can eat local scallops, squid, clams and lobsters. And from the fish tray I can eat monkfish, cod, yellow tail flounder and regular flounder. But there’s lots in a seaside fish store like mine that doesn’t meet the local standard. Shrimp, salmon, tilapia, mahi-mahi, grouper, sword, and tuna are all from distant waters. Even bluefish and striped bass, two local staples I have caught myself in the summer, are too far south this time of year.