Misadventures of the Monster Librarian

"But now in September the garden has cooled, and with it my possessiveness.  The sun warms my back instead of beating on my head ... The harvest has dwindled, and I have grown apart from the intense midsummer relationship that brought it on." -  Robert Finch  Stumbled upon this quote, and was struck dumb with a sadness I feel for the garden I once had. I love our cozy little condo--we spent so much time during our courtship there; it was a place of refuge when I was tired of library life in Ohio; it's our first home as a married couple. But, our condo has no space for a garden, and this makes me sad.  I think of the hours of time I spent on my knees planting, pulling weeds, picking produce. My garden was often one of the few spots were I went to feel alone in a community of 100 people; the place where I had the silence to day dream. I miss the day dreams dreamed there because the day dreams of 20-something me are so different than those of 30-something me. *sigh*...

Hydrangea, drying and changing to blush. A little tomatillo, never quite developed, skeleton-ing itself. The other day I walked to gather what was left of my tomatillos before the frost set in. Along the way I saw many reminders of the summer; flowers preserving themselves: hydrangea drying, transforming from a creamy white to a blush; leggier flowers dropping petals and leaving seed pods to hang precariously, a promise of later heirs. Then there were those too small to make it, shocked by the cold, caught in a gasp; plants like the tomatillos, those not picked in time now dry, skeletal reminders--a ribcage with a heart still remaining. Looking at these things, I wondered at the beauty that is hidden in everything. What is special about us that we don't always notice?

I was supposed to sit in bed all day and read, but nagging at me were the three flats of tomatillos, the pounds of tomatoes, the 4 (LAME!) squash and the bag of beets. Don't even get me started on the buckets upon buckets of Farm apples in our walk-in fridge (that is Sunday's project). So I: hunched over the sink and scrubbed tomatoes in cold water for what seemed like hours; roasted tomatoes with garlic, chipotle, chili pepper, green peppers, cumin and chili powder; cooled; blended with red onions, lemon juice, salt and red wine vinegar; canned salsa peeled and scrubbed tomatillos; pureed and drained off excess juices; mixed with garlic, chipotle, chili  cumin and chili powder, tons of red onions, lemon juice, salt and red wine vinegar; canned salsa washed, halved, oiled, salted, roasted, gutted seeds and salvaged stringy strands of spaghetti squash, bagged and froze boiled, cooled, skinned, sliced and pickled beets Then I pondered the one green tomato I left on the count...

Yesterday was day 2 of my 3 day weekend and I had almost no plans, and yet, I find that these are the kinds of days that fill up so quickly. I had a scheduled dental appointment and had arranged for my friend Yannick to come along in case they gave me laughing gas and I needed a designated driver; the procedure wound up being fast and gas-free, so we found ourselves with no agenda. "Have you ever been to Taft Farm ?" I asked. "NO?! Than we MUST go get doughnuts and cider...and birch beer!" (I must point out that when I have particular cravings, I MUST have that thing RIGHT THEN!--it was one of those mornings...I was feeling a little cavity-free giddiness). So we found ourselves at the lovely Taft Farm, oggling the squash being carried outside in huge crates; eyeing the cherry tomatoes; marveling at the many local products. We left with two birch beers, two doughnuts, a bag of beets and frozen portabella mushroom/carmelized onion ravioli for me and a little box ...

I love my morning walk up the hill to the Kitchen, the moments which belong to only me. We've replaced sweating in the Kitchen's heat with sweaters in the morning. The summer is ending. All the signs are there and obvious, if you're watching for them as eagerly as I am. First the trees, the weaker ones are already dropping off their leaves, or losing some to all of the rain. A blush of color has appeared in the mountains, so slight that I wondered that it hadn't been there all summer. Next the garden with this seasons' delayed tomatoes now fat and ripe and pungent and delicious in everything. A fridge stocked with purple peppers, cucumbers, the last of the deliciously sweet carrots, summer squash and zucchini, basil, broccoli boxes taking over everything, cauliflower, kale, chard, scallions, shallots, eggplants upon eggplants upon eggplants until I can't think of eating more eggplant parmesan! Falls' squashes are fattening themselves daily; delicata'...

Last night I had another great summer dinner (the menu similar to the best summer dinner #1), something I looked forward to all afternoon while I was working at the library. In what seemed like no time Jay was firing up the grill; I was snipping Swiss rainbow chard and picking tomatoes; RugbyGirl was stopping by to drop off beer; Sierra was pouring drinks as I chopped chard, onions and garlic; TSO and Brett were arriving. It's these simplest of simple moments that I cling to; pray that these are the moments I remember years from now; hope that when most things fade, I will have these nights. I want to remember how we didn't even notice the warmth from the stove-top as I par-cooked the potatoes --theses summer nights are getting cooler; remember the feather-like weight of the chard in my hand, how the stems fought against my old, dull knives; remember the smell of the grill, the sound of the cicadas; remember that familiar feeling of being comfortable with the people you are...

A butterfly on my neighbors' zinnias. I still can't believe I took this picture!                            "Miracle" Why, who makes much of a miracle? As to me I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky, Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of    the water, Or stand under trees in the woods, Or talk by day with any one I love, or sleep in the bed at night    with any one I love, Or sit at table at dinner with the rest, Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car, Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer    forenoon, Or animals feeding in the fields, Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air, Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so    quiet and bright, Or the exquis...

The HUGE rock that my neighbor Rick and I planted sunflowers around. My first batch of sunflowers. Gorgeous! A sea of cosmos (in front of the sunflowers). And because the Beatles are my favorite and sometimes looking at sunflowers makes me start humming this tune: THE BEATLES- HERE COMES THE SUN

Fruits of our labors Yesterday Sierra, Jay and I all wound up at the garden at the same time. We ate Farm raspberries, fat in their seedy clusters; admired and picked Jay's peppers and tomatoes; brushed dirt off of carrots and bit into their crunchy, sweet meat. Then we moved on to potatoes. Diggings up whites, reds and fingerlings Everyone should dig up potatoes at least once in their life. And I mean dig up by hand. There is nothing so satisfying as turning your two arms into excavating equipment; digging down deep past the surface, sun warmed soil, down into the cool, bug filled earth. As your hands drag back up towards the surface, like a swimmer coming up for air, you realize that without even knowing it, you've stumbled upon potatoes. Potatoes no bigger than a marble, huge ones, in-betweens, worm-bored ones. I dug up all of these fingerling potaotes! And as you dig you begin to salivate, turning into a Forrest Gump of sorts, now listing off every w...

I promise I am going to write about my vacation and post some more pictures, but until I actually have time (I am back to work in the Kitchen and also working 20 extra hours at the library this week!) I just wanted to share what's cooking in our Kitchen. The walk-in refrigerator at work is stuffed stuffed stuffed (things sound more fun when repeated, no?) to the gills with Farm veggies; sometimes we are even able to eat veggies which are still warm from the sun, picked minutes before brought to us! Life is good! Right now the gardeners are bringing us: chard kale broccoli cauliflower scallions cucumbers (green and yellow) summer squash zucchini lettuce greens basil a variety of herbs (coming to us from our Kitchen garden) I have also been donating tomatoes from my garden, my neighbor Jay's garden (while he's away on vacation) and Farmer MacDonanld's garden (because he doesn't like tomatoes! HOW!?) until the Farm tomatoes ripen. I wandered thro...

Today at tea snack we had our very own Farm cucumbers for the first time! I was in HEAVEN!! I am bumming that I may miss the first batch of Farm tomatoes while I am vacation, but rest assured that there will be millions for consumption when I get back! Also, in MY garden news: my cucumbers and tomatoes arrived in time for me to pick some, eat some and lament all the ones that will come to readiness while I am away; thankful for my small army of friends who is tending to things while I am away! Pictures soon! PROMISE! 

Part of what makes the best summer dinners is the food, but the other equally important part is the company. This past Wednesday Ian and Sascha (his gf and my Kitchen coworker), Jay and Pico came over for a grill out at my cabin; what came together was a Farm meal of cosmic proportions: marinated Farm ribeye (beef) steaks; potatoes, (white, red and fingerlings), garlic and onions from Jay's garden; lettuce greens from Sascha's garden; turnips from the Farm's gardens; cranberry lemonades with vodka from my refrigerator.  Ian oversaw the grilling, so the rest of us kicked back and chatted, enjoying the summer early evening. Everything was amazing! Here's how we made everything: Steak: Marinated for 5 hours in olive oil, soy sauce, lemon juice, maple syrup, oregano, rosemary, paprika, garlic powder, chili powder, salt and pepper. We didn't put anything on the steak after it was cooked (medium rare), the marinade left the MOST AMAZING flavor. Potatoes, onions...

We are in the garden season here at the Farm, but for whatever reason, we don't seem to be getting as many vegetables in the Kitchen this year as we did last. To say that I am bummed out about that is an understatement. Long gone and terribly missed are the asparagus of May and June--these days we are enjoying lettuce and mustard greens, kale, Swiss chard and bok choi, mung bean sprouts; carrots and turnips look and taste amazing this year; broccoli, cabbage, sugar snap peas and snow peas have all begun to make an appearance in the Kitchen, and taste so fresh and green that I am in complete ecstasy with every bite. Eating things that were picked just hours before is such an amazing gift. I am always absolutely astounded by the difference in taste between a fresh vegetable and a store bought one. People who "hate" veggies have never tried farm grown, hand picked, fresh veggies. There is no way that you can hate foods which taste so good! The greens taste as leafy ...

Life feels so busy right now. I am almost there. I see the finish line. In just a few days I will be looking at the ocean, hanging with my family, drinking rum, and BE IN JAMAICA! I can't wait. So excited I can only wheeze out short sentences! Only a few more days of work. SO much weeding in my gardens to do before I leave. I need to pack! I have to clean my cabin for Ian , who will be staying there and using the space re-retreatishly while I am gone. Agh. I am so in vacation mode already that I don't feel like blogging. Hmm... Garden: Cosmos are up and fern-looking, no flowers, not even indicators that they are flowers yet. I am sad that the thought that the flowers may have their first blooms while I am away. Sunflowers (multiple varieties) are up and getting big! Tomato plants are behind where I thought they would be--due to weird cool, hot/humid, tons of rain, cool, repeat weather we've had lately? Praying the tomatoes and tomatillos don't fruit until I ...

The view of our gardens from the road Renegade spinach, gathered and now going to seed Broccoli, peppers and tomatoes--lots and lots My cucumber netting! The Farm's blueberries and raspberries The view into the woods behind our gardens A lovely blue skied May day The last of the lilacs before the flowers died off These are pics of my garden (area), which I took in May. I need to post newer pics as things are getting sun and rain and HUGE!

Ray Lamongtagne (one of my favorites), was on VH1 Storytellers this week and I was able to catch it today. Aside from his music, I love that Ray Lamontagne is painfully shy, but when he speaks people listen because he is so sincere. My heart swells with happy. Watch here . Today is my first full day off with no plans other than some tentative dinner plans. I was going to garden all day, but waking up to the pouring rain made me smile and know that now I can stay inside and read all day without feeling guilty! Here is some kind of lovely: "In the new garden, in all the parts " In the new garden, in all the parts, In cities now, modern, I wander, Though the second or third result, or still further, primitive yet, Days, places, indifferent--though various, the same, Time, Paradise, the Mannahattan, the prairies, finding me unchanged, Death indifferent--Is it that I lived long since? Was I buried very long ago? For all that, I may now be watching you here, this moment...

...is all over the place right now. Wanted to post a quick blog to say: I am playing on a co-ed softball team again this summer. I like the people I am playing with, definitely a lot nicer and less white-trashy than the team I played on last year. Third game tonight, we are 1-1 so far. I am loving being out in the sun and running around. Garden is GROWING. We are getting more sun and heat and humidity starting tonight, so the tomatoes are taking off. Still need to stake tomatoes, need to weed CONSTANTLY. Spent over an hour weeding TWO ROWS of flowers and around some sunflowers. Cucumbers, squash and pumpkins have all popped up, seemingly overnight. They are little green rabbit ears, flopped out on their mounds. I love this stage. It's easy to love, all I have to do is watch the plants grow. There is no endless picking and pickling or preserving of things yet. I complain, but I LOVE it. I do. So happy. Took some pics of the beginning of the plants, etc., will post asap. Still...

Today I planted 75 cucumber seeds, 25 spaghetti squash seeds, 50 pumpkin seeds (Howden for carving, Baby Pam variety for pies) and more sunflowers. Day two of full sun for both the plants and I; the former is doing well, withstanding the sun and the breezes well enough, the latter has become tan overnight (with tinges of red--ouch). Night rituals now include rolling down pant legs before coming into the house, shaking the dirt out of clothes creases; stripping down in my coat room and leaving gardening clothes and mud packed shoes there; satisfying cool showers where rivulets of brown water are chased away by skin-rawing scrubbing; homestyle manicures for blistered and camouflage-stained hands, mud caked nails. There is something so satisfying about gardening. Life is good. Still too tired for long blog, must go nap. Will share a funny poem I read years ago and found again today: "Attack of the squash people" And thus the people every year in the valley of humid July d...

Ok, I am no where near enjoying my tomatoes yet, but since I spent the entire day in the garden hoeing and raking and weeding and planting over 60 tomato plants and 17 tomatillo plants I have tomatoes on the brain: BLTs with tons of tomatoes, tomatoes eaten like apples, tomatoes with salt, homemade tomato sauces and salsas and...Anyway, photos soon. "Ode to tomatoes" The street filled with tomatoes, midday, summer, light is halved like a tomato, its juice runs through the streets. In December, unabated, the tomato invades the kitchen, it enters at lunchtime, takes its ease on countertops, among glasses, butter dishes, blue saltcellars. It sheds its own light, benign majesty. Unfortunately, we must murder it: the knife sinks into living flesh, red viscera a cool sun, profound, inexhaustible, populates the salads of Chile, happily, it is wed to the clear onion, and to celebrate the union we pour oil, essential child o...

Agh! Been so busy lately! Feel like I am in this constant, awkward dance which is work, water plants/pull a few weeds, work, home, bed, repeat, trying to fit in time to also hang with friends. I have been working my normal schedule then also working 15 extra hours a week at the library. I haven't had a full day off in over three weeks and I am starting to feel that irritable tug. I keep deep breathing and reminding myself that I am off for a long weekend over Memorial Day weekend when best friend K and her boyfriend Joe visit! Until then, the extra time at the library has been great, since they've begun training me in the local history department, and am learning tons of cool researching options for genealogy. This week marks 3 months since the tree fell on my cabin and HUZZAH the construction men finished this past Friday! Such good news to come home to after work! The time definitely gave me two things: A. many, many, many reminders reminders of the bonds of friendship; fr...