Wednesday, June 03, 2015

a thousand pounds

With wood chips, shavings and chopped leaves piled high at the end of our driveway, we decide there's enough to spread some around the huge maples toward the front of the farmette.

You'll rarely see a photo of the front -- neither the land nor the house are very attractive at the roadside end and we've done little to fix things there. Oh, I planted a row of strawberry and cream hydrangeas so that it looks like whoever lives here actually cares about color and, too, I did move hostas to the bases of the maples, but it's only a nod toward public appearance. All the flower beds are private -- meaning they fan out from the internal courtyard that you cannot see from the road.

Why this secrecy?

Much of it is circumstantial. The maples provide plenty of shade and a dense root undercover. Not much can grow there. Nor are we ever focused on that part of the yard except when we eat breakfast in the front room during winter  -- it looks out toward the road, but of course, all we see then is snow.

And so it is what it is, an indifferent front yard that is merely a portal to the heart and soul of the farmette. But today that front yard got a decent layer of wood chips around the massive tree trunks. How much? Would you believe one thousand pounds of wood chips? (Just a guess...)

We did this after a breakfast. By now, the mornings have grown warm and inviting and any meal outside is heavenly. And so of course, we eat on the porch. So much do I love eating there that I have to think it must be at least in part the last thread of a memory I have -- of summer meals on my grandma's verandah in the village house in Poland. The verandah wasn't as open as our porch is, but it had windows on two sides and to me, it was as good as eating outdoors.


Funny how memories seek out new places and spaces within us, where they can be tucked and carried into the future...

I want to show you just a few photos of flower groupings. A commenter noted that it's always nice to see the entirety (in addition to, or maybe even instead of the single blooms). I agree, but we are just at the cusp of the blooming season. By July, a palate of colors and blooms becomes a regular Ocean feature. Now, only the occasional flower pops open. Most are still richly green, waiting for their favorite month -- July... -- to display they true color.


 But slowly, ever so slowly, I'm beginning to see these delicate groupings.


Even as single cultivars still grab my attention.


And speaking of things making me (Ed too) gasp -- our strawberries this year are out of control. We'd written them off as too easy a target for our beastly visitors (deer, rabbits, groundhogs, chipmunks and of course, the cheepers), but this year there are so many that maybe we can share...


Okay. Afternoon. It is, of course, with Snowdrop. I'll show you just three photos. Maybe they're a bit silly, but they're my favorite from this day: Snowdrop on the kitchen table...


Snowdrop in the stroller, giving you her special stroller face...


And finally, a self-timed photo (does that make it a selfie??) of Snowdrop doing her very favorite thing these days: standing proudly.


Each of us has a talent. Wouldn't it be grand if we could be as proud of it as little Snowdrop is of hers?