It’s Raining Men…..

Well, no. But it’s raining which is making me mouth “Hallelujah”.

It’s been quite a while of no rain, and a high level of fire danger here in the south.  So, at 3am…the patter of rain, and a few flashes of lightining are welcome….so welcome.  The air smells good, vital, fertile, and I can only imagine what it is doing for my small garden.

I left “French Cuisine For All” outside yesterday, along with the wicker and cushion chaise lounge, but I can retrieve it when the sun comes up.  I made a cassoulet yesterday….white beans, a large ham bone, onions, allspice, garlic, broth, parsley and put it all in a heavy, cast iron lidded pot into the oven for 6 hours at least.  It was wonderful and so easy.  Slow and low cooking and I didn’t disturb it except to check the level of liquid.  Husband, dogs and a few cats gave it ‘paws up’.

I’m still lurching around with the vertigo, but I think I am turning the corner on this stupid ailment.  My stomach is pretty messed up, though, and I can’t keep solids down for long and live on Glucerna, Boost and a random Coke.  My husband is doing the lion’s share of grocery shopping, stopping every night after work, and this is such a help.  He also fills the dishwasher, attends to the cat litter and dogs, and I wonder how long I can keep this help going?  LOL!  No, I rather be doing this myself, because when I can, I know I am back to normal. 

This spring is so beautiful, and I am so sorry that friends like Margie Chester, who died in Novemeber, are not here to see it. The roses, regardless of the lack of rain, have popped out in glorious splendor, and the new David Austin roses are looking just about to set blooms. The blackberries are plumping out, looking so promising, and the blueberries are doing the same.  This is quite the miracle to me as I do nothing for them except pick and eat each year.

 The tomato seed ( I figured out what I planted.)…Brandywine…..I over fertilized with chicken manure, but they have finally ignored my overfeeding and are growing surprisingly well.  The 9 hens I have are producing eggs, too many for us to use, unless we find some new dishes, and the wet “French Cuisine For All” should help  when I dry it off.  So far, we give the eggs away, husband gets one omlet or so a week, and I generally don’t eat eggs.  The dogs do, and though I have tried to keep the new pup from raiding the henhouse (Daphne has already killed my beautiful white hen) I am giving them an egg every once in a while.

I have a stack of chores to do, lists of them, and await the day when I can do so without lurching around.  I think the rain will help, dissolving that nasty pollen that seemed to start this Spring of my Discontent.

Lady Nyo

–

BLACKBERRY WINTER

It is Blackberry Winter

One last shot across

The bow of an emerging Spring.

–

Winter does not play fair.

It will not give up the ghost

Exit with a dignified bow

Preferring to show its rotting last tooth.

–

The blackberries are blooming

Frills of white collars surrounding

Kernels of lusty fruit,

Fruit black as midnight

Sweet as a baby’s kiss,

Unavoidable staining of hands and mouths

To be shared with a snake or two down below.

–

The Easter planting is done

The earth knows Winter’s game

And blankets seed

With dark, moist soil

Cozy enough to shelter tender life.

–

We will make blackberry wine

From Blackberry Winter.

The present chill will

Sweeten the fruit

And we will give a toast

To Winter’s frayed glory.

–

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2012