Monarchs and Milkweeds

I hate growing milkweed plants. Well, it's not the plants I hate. It's the sticky orange aphids that always seem to infest milkweed plants that I truly loath. And "infest" is not hyperbole; in fact, it probably understates the problem.

But after hearing about the collapse of the monarch butterfly population on the west coast, I figured that, once again, I must get over my aversion to pulsing, brainless orange bugs and plant some milkweeds.

So this summer I researched which species of milkweed are native to my area, and planted Narrow Leaf Milkweed (Asclepias fascicularis). In a pot, and far away from any other plants that those orange buggers also might want to colonize. And each time I water the milkweed, I always wear work gloves so that I can smash, smush, squish and squash them into oblivion. A festival of murder and mayhem every two or three days. All without getting my hands dirty.

And the payoff for all this hands-on grossness? Three days ago, I found the first little monarch caterpillar munching away. It's a little late in the season, but maybe s/he can pull it off. And if not this season, no matter. There will be more chances next year because this time around I won’t give up on milkweeds and monarchs just because of some icky-sticky orange bugs.

On a Pedestal

Tiles ready for installation

It all started in ceramics class. Or maybe it all started with a mosaic flower pot which needed to stand a little taller. Or maybe it doesn't matter how it started, it was a silly idea, regardless.

But I designed and made, underglazed and glazed, these blue tiles to cover a 12" square cinder block (yup, a simple-pimple cinder block). I made a few extras, just in case. And then a few tiles actually did go missing. Disaster planning in action.






It didn't take long to tile the block, just a little patience to allow the first ones to set up before moving  on to the other sides. And grouting was pretty darn easy, too.

Installed

Installed & Grouted

And then it got a bit harder - which planter gets the privilege of the high seat? I had originally thought of the pedestal for the gold "Egyptian" planter. But the new blue and red one looks pretty good up there, too.

No doubt it will all come down to the lucky vegetable or plant that gets to live in either of the pots.

The Year of the Eggplant

Who would have guessed? Around here, it is rarely warm enough to be a good year for eggplants. Or peppers. Or some years, even tomatoes.

Credit global warming, and a new (to me) variety - Little Fingers.  Although, truth to tell, some of them got pretty big, hiding under those spreading leaves. But I think they tasted just fine even in the larger sizes. Grilled, as Baba ghanoush, as however you prefer.

Now some people claim that you can grow these babies in containers and yes, you can. But they better be large containers - although the eggplants are small, the plants themselves are quite bodacious.

Citizen Science Project: Raise Heirloom Beans

Tarbais Beans

By now, everyone has heard about heirloom vegetables, seed banking and the future of life on this planet, right?

So this spring I stumbled across a website - A Bean Collector's Window - and discovered an amazing world of beans, beans and more beans. Better still, for a very nominal price, you could buy these rare, unique and possibly soon-to-be-lost bean varieties that your or somebody else's grandmother grew. Grow them yourself and you can become your own little seedbank - a truly unique item for the resume.

Or even better than better still, you could sign up to grow a variety (or more) for free. And in return, all you have to do just that - return a handful of bean seeds. You get to keep the rest of the crop and eat and grow them again and again and, and, and...

What's the catch? I'm not sure there is one. You get beans, the beans get grown and then preserved for another 4 - 6 years, and the Postal Service gets a little bit of business. Heck, if you choose to grow two or more varieties, you may select an extra packet of beans, also for free.

Luckily for those of us with small yards, beans need very little isolation to maintain seed purity. In my case, I grew our favorite Fortex pole beans (Phaseolus vulgaris) in the front yard along with the tepary beans (Phaseolus acutifolius). Different species, so no hanky-panky.

Something to consider for next year - the beans, I mean.

Orange Tepary Beans

When Life Gives You...

Yes, we do have a lemon tree, so we know what to do about that. But what about all the other stuff that is bursting out of the garden?

Tromboncino Squash & Blossoms

 
The cucumbers? Well, since I planted them for the neighbors and my best guy (although my best guy is out of town this week, so he's no help), I can give many of them away.

The zucchini? Ask first. Apparently it is not politic to drop off zucchini on someone else's front porch without warning. But when I have asked, pretty much everyone has accepted.

And those overlooked items, such as squash blossoms? A delicious luxury, if you are willing to put in the work to turn them into food. Not likely, knowing my neighbors.

So, I have been experimenting with stuffing them with ricotta and tarragon pesto. I don't fry them, but dipping in egg, rolling in bread crumbs and baking at 400° for 10 minutes turns them into a very tasty dinner. As is giving them a rough chop and adding them to nearly-set scrambled eggs (like I said, my best guy is out of town). And tomorrow I will simply let the bees have their way with them.

Luckily, the lemons are still green.

"Let's Talk About Ice Cream!"

Most every week I go on a walk with my friend Kathy at Mountain View Cemetery. And sometimes when we're lucky, our friend Eve will join us as well. As we walk along we talk about the usual stuff - this and that, that and this, and the state of our lives and the world. Unfortunately, we somehow can't always avoid the awful "news" that spews from Mr. Trump's mouth.

So when it gets really bad, some one or the other of us will pipe up, "Lets talk about ice cream!" and the subject will move on to a less painful topic.

But as long as we're talking about ice cream, I do have a list:

My top pick probably is the buffalo milk soft serve ice cream at Palace Market in Point Reyes Station. Now I don't even really like soft serve ice cream, but this stuff is absolutely the best. So take your favorite Point Reyes hike, and then indulge yourself. It can really be that simple.

I recently discovered As You Wish Frozen Yogurt on Solano Ave. in Albany. I doubt it was the most wonderful frozen yogurt ever, but oh, the Dulce de Leche. That was wonderful. I think they rotate flavors frequently, so I guess I'll just have to take my chances on future visits.

And then there's the perennial favorite, Ben & Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk®, enjoyed at home with family and friends. Or maybe just with Princess on your head.

Paella Valenciana: The Next Generation

When you are lucky enough to spend a college semester in Spain, not only do you get to study hard, but you also have the privilege of travel. Our nephew Ian was very lucky, indeed, to spend time in Santander, and then visit quite a number of Spanish landmarks, as well as make longer forays to Italy, France, Germany and Portugal (I think I got this right).

Santander is bang up against the Picos de Europa, a most dramatic mountain range for hiking and climbing. And it's also located on the Camino del Norte (Northern Way) of the famous pilgrimage route. So for those, like Ian, who enjoy cultural experiences and outdoor activities, a semester in Spain sounds pretty darn wonderful. In this instance, I'm ready to acknowledge that "envy green" is a color I recognize.

And then there's the eating adventures to consider. Not only fabulous Spanish cooking, but also some cooking of your very own. Like Paella Valenciana, for example.

Yup. Ian decided that he would try to produce a traditional Paella Valenciana. Why not? In his own words:

"It turned out great! My only problem was that the rice was still a little soggy, I either added too much stock or not quite enough rice... Either way, it was still delicious. I had to skip the snails too, while I am personally a huge fan some others sadly objected. Next time I think I can pass it off as true Valenciano! Pictures below of course."

He is studying to become an environmental engineer. On the other hand, I personally think that he may want to consider a career as a food stylist.







Photos Courtesy of Ian Cullings

San Diego for the Day

Balboa Park in San Diego is really quite special - great architecture, scads of museums (I think my favorite is the Timken with its gallery of Russian icons), interesting gardens and fun, quirky activities. I mean, where else can you visit "houses" of 30+ countries hosted in little historic cottages?

And in the newly expanded Japanese Friendship Garden, three baby Black Phoebes, clearly just out of the nest, quietly, very quietly, waited for a parent to show up. Hopefully with lunch.

What could possibly cap that?

Perhaps a double rainbow with dinner?

Front Yard Sleepover

It's nearly nine o'clock in the evening and do you know where your male bees are? Unlike the females, they don't have their own nests.

Well, some of my guys, and I think that they are members of the long-horned tribe (Melissodes) have tucked themselves in for the night - hanging on tightly by their mandibles (they don't actually have teeth).

In which sweet bower, you might ask? The purple Scabiosa anthemifolia, also beloved of butterflies and my young neighbor, Tessa, who comes over on a regular basis with her very own pink scissors and cuts a bouquet for her mother. Yes, of course she always asks first.

One bloom, one bee, you might think, but this flower (on the left) actually has a second bee, very snuggy, tight and barely visible on the left side.

For crying out loud, if this gets any cuter, I'll have to invite myself over to Tessas' to read Goodnight Moon.

We Love Mrs Collier!

Whoever Mrs Collier may have been, if she even truly was a real living person, her name lives on in this wonderful heirloom sweet pea. And everyone who lives on my street just adores her namesake.

Most people believe that sweet peas (Lathyrus odoratus) are native to Sicily and the southern Mediterranean area. But once the British, especially one Scottish nurseryman, Henry Eckford got involved with breeding and hybridizing this little wildflower, sweet peas have spread around the globe.

As an old-fashioned variety from 1907, Mrs Collier retains that deliciously strong fragrance that some newer sweet peas have had bred out of them.

Now I for one wouldn't trade away sweet scent. And I don't think any of Mrs. Collier's new local fans would either. We prefer to stick our noses in our own flowers and let those plant breeders mind their own businesses. Although in all fairness, as well as selecting for size, color and disease resistance, contemporary breeders are beginning to pay more attention to fragrance, too.

Sweet pleas prefer cool weather, so plant the seeds in the late fall or early spring. And keep picking the flowers - a real hardship, I know - because the more you pick, the more the plants will produce flowers until hot weather finally knocks them out for the season. Trust me, there will be plenty to share.