We moved into our house in late November, and after a full December, only got around to planting daffodil bulbs in January. I was convinced they weren't going to show up at all this year. But just like all the gardening advice columns I consulted, it looks like they're going to be late bloomers. Last … Continue reading Jardin Journale: Greet Spring
On the last day of freedom before our sheltering-in-place began, Libby and I made our way over to Mount Vernon to soak in some sunshine—both the actual rays on this first spring Saturday of the year and the sunny, yellow fields of daffodils. The farms weren't open to the public, so we had a socially … Continue reading Jardin Journale: Gardening, not cancelled
Winter is on its way out and I am counting down the days until spring blooms. Our jardin is steadily being prepped for planting seeds: I'm slowly getting rid of major weeds and an invasive ground cover plant that I hate. After I finish adding compost to the soil next weekend, we are going to … Continue reading Jardin Journale: Late winter inspiration
It's been raining nonstop for the past month. But this week was one of the worst yet. Day after day of unrelenting rainfall left me feeling like I might drown in the growing mud puddle surrounding my house. So when the clouds parted Friday afternoon and I saw blue sky for the first time in … Continue reading Jardin Journale: After the rain
We don't wake up with the sunrise to get out in the garden. It's still winter, we're still young and waking up slowly and sweetly is too lovely to give up. Besides, we know that just as much can be done in the warmth of a setting afternoon sun as in the morning. In the … Continue reading Getting our hands dirty
Leaves fall, a breeze blows. The transition to Autumn is easy this year. One reason for that is this Victorian town: a beauty in fall. I find most solace from the warmth of another; close on those cold days.
Three thoughts from road tripping from Port Townsend, WA to Santa Maria, CA and back again on Highway 101. 1. Sand beneath fingernails is one of the most uncomfortable feelings I know. But I put up with it for the sensation of running my hands through it; hot, dry sand that you pile on top … Continue reading Sand, salt, bark