July 29, 2008

Sitting here eating my summer everyday breakfast - a tomato sandwich made on this incredible 8 grain bread from COSTCO, a little mayo and a sprinkle of pink Himalayan sea salt. YUMMY!!! Time for some catching up on my blog in between shopping for … golf clothes on line.

So I get a text message on Friday from Andy that says “appointment tomorrow at 11 a.m. any conflicts?”

Naturally, I am thinking HE has a catering meeting and I will have the morning free for me.  When the Valentine pink and white golf bag got loaded into the back of the Pilot Saturday morning, I knew sumpin’ was up.

He bought me an hour golf lesson with a local lady golf pro and guess what - (ACK) in that hour, I learned I was doing just about everything wrong despite that I was hitting the ball. Grip - wrong. Stance- wrong. Feet placement - wrong. Posture - wrong. Attitude - FABULOUS! Pastel colored golf balls - chi chi.

I had always envisioned golf as this mindless game of smack the ball, pitch the ball, unsandtrap the ball, putt the ball, curse at the ball, retrieve the ball from the water, drink beer, smoke a cigar, curse at the ball, drink more beer, forcefully become the designated driver of the golf cart because of too much beer…

This is what our guys DO when they are together. I feel like a get a girls insider scoop here. Kinda like all the boy locker room talk you can handle for 5 hours, in an idylic setting surrounded by lush grasses, tall trees, and freaking “who put THAT there” sandtraps. And while I am snarking — POISON IVY in the woods has GOT TO GO. Scratching …….

Learning that golf is as much a mind game as it is a hand to eye coordination and sometimes just plain dumb luck game.

Back to lesson - Chris (the pro - petite, thin as a rail, dressed in cute golf wear, about my age) asks me what kind of shape I am in. Well, I powerwalk, I am pretty flexible, I am in great shape … let’s do it. Translated - I am 46. I can guarantee I have NEVER used the muscles you are about to put into play. I am going to be in serious pain, but I will not cry until tomorrow morning when I am getting out of bed. What you may see is a smile, but underneath, my body is writhing in pain and you’ll never know it. This coming from a 8 year vet on QVC who has smiled through a bad burn from lifting a hot pan without an oven glove, a bloody spitting hand wound when a wine opener malfunctioned and stabbed me and got stuck in the palm of my hand, drippy hot flashes on live TV … and there’s too many to write about.

To abbreviate this challenging lesson, golf is not about grabbing a club, teeing up a ball and swinging and praying it moves. That was the OLD me.  The 4 step and wing it me. Cuteness and cold beer got me in the game.

The new me paid attention to everything out of Chris’s mouth. The NEW me now has about 150 steps to hitting a ball the right way and I must put each one of those steps into high gear in under 30 seconds lest I hold up the game.

Oh, and I CANNOT just use my driver for every shot except putting. There is a reason why I have a pink and white bag filled with Andy’s old set, because each club has a purpose. ( I am not fond of ANY iron.)

Steps to golfing -

1. Pick the proper club

2. Tee the ball up right. Geez, can I NOT just push the tee into the ground and top it with the ball?? NO. There is a science to tee-ing up.

3. Hold the club right. Proper fingers aligned and tucking into each other parallel to the shaft.

4. Align body askew left of ball. Club slightly angeled.

5. Butt sticking out about 4″ inches into imaginary wall.

6. Chest slightly bent and angled.

7. Chest up.

8. Chin slightly up.

9. Eyes on ball.

10. Feet right width apart and perfectly parallel.

11.  We are using ARMS people - not whipping our bodies like we are chopping wood. The force is in the arms.

12. Think straight pendulum swing. (I played softball for 18 years. This was tough. The softball player in me has to let go of the notion that I am swinging straight across to kill a ball. That is all my poor, aging bod knows … tough habit to break)

13. Arms pulling club up the right way. EYES ON THAT BALL!!!!!!!!!!!!Swinging down the right way to make perfect contact with ball and follow thru, bumping the hip stage left and bending right knee into left leg at knee while keeping left leg straight, follow thru with club behind head.

14. OK, now you can look to see where the ball went.

I was so nervous with this gal, though she was really a patient and sweet teacher. Might have been Andy standing behind me mumbling things like “oh ya … good luck getting her to change THAT one…” OR “see, have I not been telling you that for weeks?” Followed by “pay attention, princess, that is important…”

SHUT UP!!!

They tape you swinging so you can see what you are d0ing right/wrong. I have to say, by the end of the hour, if you had put me in a cute little pink golf skirt and a matching polo, shoes, socks and visor, I would have been mistaken as an LPGA pro.

 Hehehehehheheehehe.

A storm precluded me from practicing on the range after the lesson. We am scrammed for the car and headed home .

The big test came yesterday. We were set to golf with three of Andy’s buddies (where are the girls??? I have NOT seen a girl on any course yet…) at a local public course. He informs me one hour prior that we are now going to an exclusive club and I needed a golf outfit. ACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Panic shopping in Green Hills smack dab in the middle of NOWHERE PA. We got to a Boscovs and he gave me 10 minutes to find golf something. I hated ALL of it. NO skorts. NO polos. I looked HORRIBLE in all of it. He is pulling these shorts off the rack and shirts I could not get over my head. We settled for these bermuda-type brown striped shorts and a sleeveless white polo tee that actually matched my baseball hat and shoes.

How did I golf???

I was a hit and miss. I felt a great deal of pressure to perform, given he coughed up a $100 bill 2 days before for an hour lesson. Mind you, I had never golfed prior to this year. EVER. This was my second time out for 18 holes in a week. In a nutshell, Andy is a pro. He has been golfing on teams since high school and college. He golfs in bare feet. He rarely has to search for his ball. And, painfully, he remembers every stroke I take at each hole so when scores are recorded, anything over 8 has become his favorite number for me.

“She had a one 175 yard down the fairway, one 150 yard onto the green, and 6 tries at a putt,” OR “First ball in the lake, second ball in the lake, third ball in the lake, fourth ball we set past the lake, fifth ball in the woods, sixth ball in the tree trunk in front of where fifth ball landed, seventh ball on the green, eighth ball putted off the green, ninth ball one foot from hole, tenth ball putted 10 feet past hole …”

I either smacked the crap out it or it rolled off tee before I could swing. I lost my favorite pastel pink ball in the woods.

But I hit it. And the lessons helped me so much. I may not be able to get it on the green first time, like Andy, on a par three, but I wasted less time then the other 2 guys searching for balls that were sliced into the woods. There were some great holes on this course. I like the ones where you tee off standing at the top of a huge hill and the ball has nowhere to go but high and straight - no rolling. I hate the holes where you have to golf UP a hill. You hit it and it rolls down right back at you. I am also NOT fond of lakes or any water, especially water in sand traps. Double yuck!

There were holes when I hit better than the guys. Yep, I spent my time smoking a cigar while they hemmed and hawed searching for their tiny white balls. OK, so I did not inhale!

THIS is what guys DO when they are gone for 6 hours or more. It takes 4 plus hours to shoot 18 holes with golf carts. 2 hours until you get to the 9th hole where, if you are nice, the guys will give you 10 seconds to use the ladies room while they reload beer at the clubhouse.  Andy goes in the woods.

I am liking this game waaaaay too much. I just spent $200 on landsend.com buying golf clothes.

Next year, I get sponsored! Stay tuned!

ml

July 26, 2008

Randy Pausch died. He is the Carnegie Mellon professor who was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer 2 years ago and his final speech to students became a world wide inspiration.  Now, he’s gone … every day I would check his webpage for updates. The past few weeks there were none, so I suspected the end was near.

What an amazing way to go out, eh? Just an ordinary man with a simple message that lit hearts around the globe on fire. Simple enough - be grateful for what you have and take time to enjoy the life that you are given. Find your mission and do it. Perhaps his mission did not transpire to the end, and yet it was a fete accompli for sure.

I have been speaking his final words for decades … we are all here for a reason - figure it out! Piece together the puzzle pieces of your journey and you will have it. There are no accidents - EVERYTHING happens for a reason.

ml

July 25, 2008

I finally made it through 18 straight holes of golf today - 4 hours worth of bedlam - really good stuff. Me and three guys - again - and it is funny because while these guys can slam the kajeebies out of the balls and get just about every shot impressively up in the air and able to travel a great distance, seems as if little ol ME was the only one who consistently kept the ball on the fairway. No woods. No roads. NO looking under hedges.

I can keep up with them. I am swinging and missing less and less. I am leaving a lot less divets and I discovered it IS best to not try and kill the ball. Oh, and I wore Liz Clairborne red gold outfit today for the first time. NO running capris and t-shirt. I looked like I was out for the LPGA circuit!

So who got the best shot??? That would be ME. Hole 16. Using my P pitching wedge I lobbed it up over a hill and onto the green and before you could say “Holy Moly” my ball hit the flag and fell into the hole. My first par! I also hit it 150 yards over a lake and onto a green from the “boys” markers.

And, I learned that beer is good at 9 a.m.

ml

July 24, 2008 

I am learning how to golf. Not REALLY by choice.  It was more like, Valentine’s Day of this year, a pink and white golf bag with a bow showed up in the middle of my great room. Complete with a lady’s DRIVER.  (and not for a limo in the driveway.)

Andy golfs … very well. In fact, he has been golfing most of his life and on golf teams for high school and college. Woopie. He wants me to learn so we can spend that quality time together - translated “if you don’t golf or at least make an attempt to golf several times a week, you gonna be one lonely chick until winter.”

I tried golfing when I was younger. In fact, I come from a golfing family, as my Uncle Frank was a golf professional at a country club in Ohio and later in life he bought his own course up near Lake Erie. I had ample opps to learn the sport, it just put me to sleep. I preferred rowdier, busier sports like volleyball, tennis and softball. Move, move, move … run, run, run. Golf … bend knees, cock head to view pathway, hold club, swing club,  either miss ball or whip a huge chunk of grass into mid air and watch ball drop 5 feet in front of you. I vacillate between those two.

Can one golf without lessons? Sure you can. You swing. You knock it a few feet. The guys take off in the golf carts without you, swigging beers and smoking cigars,  while you are expected to keep up while running ball to ball across the fairways. You move your ball out of water. Out of woods. Out of trees. No one is keeping your score. You make up your own rules as you go along.

As a girl, you get to tee off from the red markers - typically a few yards away from the boys and allegedly puts you into their game. So, technically because you are given a head start you should be able to keep up.  Basically, the only thing I can keep up with is the beer drinking on a hot day. I don’t care for beer, but when it is 110 degrees in the shade and you are being forced to keep up no more than 20 over par at each hole, swigging cold beer becomes a survival tactic. By the 5th hole, I am pretty well wired and a joy to behold.

I have yet to figure out what makes golf so alluring. You do the same thing over and over for 18 holes.  The guys swing - they either high five a good drive or make excuses - bad wind, wrong ball, poor placement of trees, what idiot put a lake there, a flying bird got in the way, you in the sand, man. Need more beer.

And they can pee in the woods behind trees of their liking. Girls have to hold it for nine holes at some courses.

I am surprisingly good at golf. I would be better if I had lessons OR if Andy would take the time to give me some feedback other than “You took your eyes off the ball… swing like a pendulum … how hard it that? NO, you cannot use your driver for everything … drink more beer. It’ll help.”

I am a hit or miss. It either flies a long way or it falls off the tee before I even have a chance to hit it.  And water? Forget about it. I had one great shot at a lake recently. It was a huuuuge lake. There was not a chance in hell I was going to get a ball that far. I basically told the three guys I was golfing with that I had two choices - either drop 12 balls into the water and we could all laugh it off and I  could stop now OR I could just go straight to the green and put from 25 feet…”

Andy : “You get your butt to the lake’s edge and smack that ball into the geese on the other side.”

You can guess what happened.

Sorry geese.

I have lessons waiting. I am going to work at the game. I am resolved to make it my own with Nancy Lopez pink clothes, pink club covers, pink balls … Pink makes everything wonderful.

Fore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ml

July 21, 2008

Miracles DO happen. Andy hooked up a hose somehow and I can now water all of my 50,000 plants in 1/100th of the time. Ya!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have had a few days off in a row and, of course, I am spending most of my free time up at the Green Hills Farm doing my best to weed, sort and triage assorted plants. We are heavy into full growing season now and although we have held tight to our vows to maintain, maintain, maintain, other things get in the way of continual progress ~ children, work, golf, fellowship … and my need for a few hours of air conditioning every so often. Back to the “city.”

I try so stoically to NOT let the heat get to  me, but it is hard. I will not go into the garden without wearing long pants and I have some comfortable pink oversized cotton pants that are not too hot. I like to sit or kneel between rows to weed and there are just too many bugs of every shape, color and size to go nekkid on the legs. I get bit to a pulp WITH long pants on! Lately, I am barely moving and the sun is beating hot on me and the sweat is pouring off.  And the skeeters are nipping and the biting flies are biting and the gnats are buzzing in my ears and sticking to my sunscreen and lipgloss.

Yes, it WOULD be easier to go to the supermarket and buy all of this produce, but can I tell you how GOOD it tastes? It is fresh and pure. There is no refrigerator aftertaste. It is ripe and crisp and if things like cucumbers even make it to the fridge for a chill, even better on a hot summer day. We eat sometimes as we pick. I sware, Andy is part gorilla!

Today it was an all garden lunch. I picked a huge head of napa cabbage and a small head of red. A couple of walla walla onions, tomatoes, including a couple of yellow pears,  and a good handful of basil. I prepped the cabbages and tomatoes on my Zyliss mandoline. Cabbage and onions were tossed with a chilled light poppyseed dressing. Tomatoes were sliced and sprinkled with fresh chiffinade of basil and drizzled with greek olive oil and sea salt and pepper. I made Andy some onion flatbread sticks and we had a feast ~ watching the news and sitting in front of a window fan.  We had golden raspberries for dessert.

Later I found that Andy had planted a rubber copperhead snake in the cooler and I screamed bloody murder and no one called 911! That was followed by a huge, hairy black spider that crawled out of a chair cushion on the deck.  And a green cricket in the daisies. I had never seen a green cricket. Very cool.

(I put the snake in the shower for him to find later. No response. Arg……………. he will take it and put it in my bed at some later date.)

Next few days are busy at QVC … look for me midnight Tuesday into Wednesday and at 2 a.m. and 9 a.m. that would be July 23. Next week is colonoscopy week. I will have some down time but be sure to check back in for my play by play on the procedure. My biological father has colon cancer. Time for this almost 47-year-old to get a base line. Not really worried they’ll find anything, but who knows.

Happy Wednesday!

mlk

July 18, 2008

I learned something remarkably quirky about myself today - I actually enjoy sweating.  A good thing to know given it is 125 degrees in the shade here today and double that in the Green Hills Farm Garden.

I decided to take my power walk early today given the predicted heat warnings.  You cannot miss me walking through this development. I am the one with the oversized t-shirts that leave me feeling less restricted AND the long sweatpants. Just cannot walk in shorts. Ladies, are you with me here? You get hot and sticky and the shorts just ride up your legs. ACK!!! When did my thighs start growing so close together?

I was out only about 10 minutes when the first drips hit me, rolling down my forehead and straight into my eyes, burning like crazy. Which I find rather daunting given that our eyes like salt. I trudged onward, handy microfiber kitchen towel in left hand to wipe my face every so often. Within 20 minutes, I was drenched. It felt good. Cooling. Body functioning as it should. Gotta be just losing toxins like crazy. Kept me going the full hour when I was thinking only of a long drink of water and air conditioning. Why is it that the real sweat comes when we get indoors? I think my office chair is still soaked from me plopping down to check e-mails.

Off to farm. No air conditioning in the home of our beloved Green Hills Farm - no central air, at least. 2 high powered units I got as TSVs on QVC a few weeks ago, but by the time we get indoors from working outside all day, sun is going down and we do not turn them on.  I do my best not to be a whiner, but sometimes, a girl in the mercy of menopause needs a blasting a/c unit with a fan kicker in front of it! 

It was the hottest day EVER at the farm today. Driving down the long lane in I spied the long grass that needed mowing first. Ack. Side hills needed weeding. Ack. Perennial beds needed dead heading. Ack. Nary a breeze in sight. The house was remarkably cool inside. We have about 20 container gardens that needed a drink and both hummingbird feeders were dry. I was on my own today with Andy catering a wedding this evening.

I always triage first - figure out what needs watering the most and fill up my cans from the garage and carry them out. One by one. And I curse Andy for not letting me have a hose and I plan how I will get a full blown irrigation system installed for next year :).

We had about 30 grape tomatoes. A few huge zucchini - green and yellow. I picked 2 heads of napa cabbage and one red. Bunches of cucumbers, sad to see the vines wilting a bit, probably from beetles. I ate a handful of golden raspberries and carefully lifted leaves to spy for more baby fruits. We have at least 5 watermelon, a bunch of pumpkins, large and small.  By the time I got done picking the last few Walla Walla Onions, I was drenched again. I have to force myself to drink water, and with my recent bout of kidney stones, it is a must.

It was only a few hours of work today and off I took the bounty to Andy at work. His lucky guests at the wedding tonight are going to get organic produce.

Off to run for the night. On at 5 a.m. tomorrow. That means to bed by 8 p.m. and up at 3 a.m. A new job for me - Newport Desserts Cream Bars. They are so good I actually ordered them on auto-delivery BEFORE I was asked to be the relief guest if Chef Paul cannot make it from California. I am sure he is relieved to not have to get on a plane.

Thanks for stopping by. I am going to enjoy a quiet weekend. Not on again until next Wednesday at midnight. ya!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Make it a great one.

ml

June 21, 2008

Somebody stop me!!!Just when you think there are no more plants to be had, in comes the adventure. We have some wonderful family owned nurseries in Lancaster county, PA. That’s out in the land of the amish … a beautiful, inspiring blast from the past kinda place where you can get THE BEST of everything in between dodging the horse and buggies. My goal yesterday was to find a new batch of several crops that have been eaten and done … specifically, broccoli, cauliflower, arugula (Andy is obsessed with arugula, a spicy, peppery green that gets really, really HOT when it is overripe), and lettuces. Lancaster county did not disappoint. My favorite place has 2 locations, a few miles from each other - Ken’s in Intercourse and Smoketown.

We have transplanted well over a thousand plants from my former yard into the Green Hills Farm. We are also moving all of the great soil from the old yard ~ memories of two years ago when I had 20 yards of composted mushroom soil dumped in a mountain in the side yard thinking to myself “how much can 20 yards be???” I think I still have traces of the steaming manure in my gardening gloves!!!

It is a joy to grow. I love when my hands go into the earth and it crumbles. The soil on Green Hills Farm is very rocky and needs to be amended. It is a lot of work gretting a garden in place. We bought one of those giant double compost tumblers about a month ago as we compost everything. Andy owns a catering business and all of his scraps - about 5 huge bucketfuls a day - are turned into compost. We save everything from my house, too, and I eat a lot of veggies and fruits. Common scraps that would normally be tossed in a landfill nourish the earth. A good thing.

What’s next? Well, still have about a thousand plants to transplant. Andy’s dad is going to help me saw and point new tomato stakes. More seedlings need to be started. Welcome spring!!!

June 21, 2008

Somebody stop me!!!Just when you think there are no more plants to be had, in comes the adventure. We have some wonderful family owned nurseries in Lancaster county, PA. That’s out in the land of the amish … a beautiful, inspiring blast from the past kinda place where you can get THE BEST of everything in between dodging the horse and buggies. My goal yesterday was to find a new batch of several crops that have been eaten and done … specifically, broccoli, cauliflower, arugula (Andy is obsessed with arugula, a spicy, peppery green that gets really, really HOT when it is overripe), and lettuces. Lancaster county did not disappoint. My favorite place has 2 locations, a few miles from each other - Ken’s in Intercourse and Smoketown. I managed to get some great deals. 48 arugula plants, broccoli, cauliflower, red leaf lettuce, romaine, fennel, and two hungarian wax hot peppers. I also found (ack) 4 new heirloom tomatoes that I put in last night - Fourth of July, Amish paste, Russian Black, and Pepper tomatoes. I also put in 6 more Romas for good measure. That takes us up close to 90 plants. It will be a lot to eat. IT will be a joy to share with friends and the food bank. I also found butternut squash and we put in 2 of those.

It is a joy to grow. I love when my hands go into the earth and it crumbles. The soil on Green Hills Farm is very rocky and needs to be amended. It is a lot of work gretting a garden in place. We bought one of those giant double compost tumblers about a month ago as we compost everything. Andy owns a catering business and all of his scraps - about 5 huge bucketfuls a day - are turned into compost. We save everything from my house, too, and I eat a lot of veggies and fruits. Common scraps that would normally be tossed in a landfill nourish the earth. A good thing.

What’s next? Well, still have about a thousand plants to transplant. Andy’s dad is going to help me saw and point new tomato stakes. More seedlings need to be started. Welcome spring!!!

July 17, 2008

Assorted updates first!

First of all, I would like to give a shout out to “Mary” who took the time to e-mail me today through this website to ask if Ryan liked camp. Wow - someone other than just my wonderful former spouse reads this schtuff. Thank you, Mary! Read on #1 fan!!

I picked up Ryan from his 3 days away at college graphic camp yesterday. He was at the Pennsylvania College of Technology in Williamsport, PA - home of little league baseball championship games, the college and a WEGMAN’s of all things. For those of you NOT familiar with Wegman’s, let’s just say we have one here and the store is amazing. They make tons of fresh food on premise and carry abut everything you could possibly need. It is an adventure every time we go there.

The drive was a blur because I hitched with friends who had business up there, coincidentally, and I took Dramamine before I left because I have horrible backseat motion sickness. I was knocked out. Ryan was awaiting our arrival by the dorms with his advisor. I was happy to see him, but I restrained the mother and child reunion. He got in (”Yo…”) and we went to lunch at a place called Haywoods. They are Food Network Channel famous for their HUGE portions. (Thank God I did not pack my Kitchrics scale and start weighing stuff.) My friend Mike (our driver) had a burger named after a football player - it was like a pound of beef topped with sausage, peppers, onions, mushroom, assorted melted cheeses and 2 fried eggs. And a side of onion rings. Heart attack on a bun. Yep, he ate it! I got my favorite Reuben - although I only ate the handcut fries and picked at the slaw on the sandwich. Brought the rest home. Ryan had a cheesesteak and I ate his onions and mushrooms on the sly. Filled me up. Renee had a huge turkey wrap, oh, and we got the world’s largest hot dog to bring home to Andy. It was ginormous — footlong topped with chili, beans, kraut, onions, relish, ketchup, mustard, cheese sauce. Weighed about 5 pounds.

If that was not enough, we stopped first at another local landmark - Mr. Sticky’s. They make these addictive sticky buns. I ordered one of each to bring home - regular, walnut, cream cheese and peanut butter with chocolate shavings. And an extra cup of cream cheese frosting. I waited until 7 p.m. last night to try the plain one. I ate all of it in an hour AND the frosting. My pancreas is not happy with me today! And neither is Andy because he had not seen me all day and I was asleep by 8 p.m. TOO MUCH SUGAR!!! I slept through Wife Swap and Super Nanny!

(OK … I have officially outed myself to the wonderful peeps who have hired me to shoot an infomercial for them in 5 weeks … no worries. I will NOT eat anymore junk!)

I power walked an hour this morning in the heat. I love the heat!! Feels good to sweat it all out. I think my droplets running down my face tasted like cream cheese frosting. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm. If only!

It has been awhile since I updated the Green Hills Farm. We are so happy with the way everything is working up there. Just enough rain to keep all of the established plants moist. Save for a few baby lettuces, we have not lost much in our first year. We are learning … I think the only thing we would have done differently thus far is plant the brussel sprouts in the back. They are huge plants and they are overgrowing our pathway.  They take a long time to mature, as well.

The tomatoes, all 90 plus of them, are growing like weeds - still. That is another issue. We staked all of them early on, but they overgrew them. Andy had to build make-shift cages out of wood surrounding the highrisers. They are all starting to get top heavy and bend, but we are not trying to do anything to stop that natural flow for fear we will break stems. I have been growing tomatoes for years and I have never had such a yield. Most of the plants, especially all of the smaller cherry varieties, are crammed with fruit. We have picked and eaten maybe 20 little ones so far. The Sugar Lumps, Grape, Juliet and Yellow Pear are all ripe.

Broccoli, cauliflower, first batch of arugula have all gone to seed. I want to pull it all out and prep for a fall crop, but Andy insists on seed collection. Our Napa cabbage is HUGE and ready to pick. We also have a great crop of green and red cabbage, cucumbers, green and yellow zucchini and spaghetti squash.

Having a garden is like having kids. These plants, mostly, were raised from seeds we started and it is truly like watching your babies grow and have babies. If you have never seen baby fruits and veggies - oh, my goodness. Is there anything cuter than a baby watermelon??? All of the squashes, melons, pumpkins and gourds have huge leaves and they are taking over the lower half of the garden now. We cannot walk in between the rows to admire the fruits of their labors. There is fruit and buds on everything now.

The flower gardens are breathtaking - most especially all of the coneflowers. I have every variety planted and it is a mix of color. Black-eyed Susans just starting to open and the daylilies we transplanted from my former yard have done well.

I started canning last week. I put up 8 jars of bread and butter pickles made with our cukes and 5 jars of raspberry jam made from wineberries we found near Andy’s business and a mix of local raspberries. I also made a big batch of fresh basil pesto as our basil is overgrowing, too! Canning is sooooo easy and it is fun to eat your own stuff. I will be making peach jam soon. My friend from QVC kitchen, Chris Pryme (the Lock and Lock Lady) and I get all of our peaches fresh from an amish farm this time of year. She has a goat farm in New York State and a huge garden of her own. She cans EVERYTHING - salsas, tomato sauce … she is amazing.

We will be farming new few weeks. Always lots to do, but it has helped to heavily mulch with newspapers and leaves. Had to swipe a big stack from a neighbors recycling pile today! Feels good to not use chemicals and it helps keep the weeds down. Soon we will have a plethora of fresh tomatoes. Looking forward to that.

Happy weekend!

ml

July 15, 2008

Let me begin today’s piece with an update: if you read yesterday’s blog, you’re well aware that my oldest son, Ryan, is now 19 years and one day old, has a miracle heart, and has been away from me for the longest time EVER (alone) since birth.

It has been three days … I am managing baby bird flying the nest much better than I ever imagined. He has called twice. Once to tell me there is no shower curtain on his tub and another to ask for Andy. (Girl talk, I suppose, given that Andy stopped playing golf long enough to answer about 20 back and forth missives (laughing hysterically as each new one arrived) and Andy does not stop golf for just anything

I stopped breathing into paper bags after 24 hours. I am no longer pacing. It was more comforting to eat an entire cheesecake all afternoon. I am preparing myself for the idea that this next year will fly by as fast as this last one and next year at this time, I will be stock piling Bed Bath and Beyond 20% off any one item coupons so we can get the best deals on desk lamps, under the bed boxes and electric spinning tooth brush refill heads. I will be saving QVC boxes to mail care packages.

That I get the chance to do this - something as simple as shop for Ryan’s room at college - another miracle I will relish and never take for granted.

Tomorrow, I get the 6 hour drive there and back to retrieve him. I will have 3 full hours to rehearse the reunion. In my heart, I will run from the car, in movie-like slow motion with my arms outreached and he will do the same, dropping his backpack and flinging his arms around me, giving me a crushing “God, Oh God have I missed you my mother ship” weeping, sobbing, blubbering hug.

“Take me home, mother love. Make me a fish sandwich and fries with tons of ketchup…”

A - hem.

Instead, I will pull up where he will be waiting. Unlock the door. Greet the advisor with a smile and he will get in.

“Yo …”

“Hey, Ry, how ya doing? Did you have a great time.”

“Mmmmmmmmmm. Uh. Huh.”

“Did you make any friends.”

“Uh huh.”

“You hungry.”

“Nope.”

“You sure because it is noon and you SHOULD be hungry.”

“Nope. MOm, Stop. I am NOT hungry.”

“K.”

And off we will go. He will divulge nothing. I will ask everything. In 15 minutes he will be sticking his long arm around the backside of the front seat looking for the stash of peanut butter stuffed pretzels I keep in the car for him. Because he is ALWAYS hungry!

It’s good to be mom.