• Squirreling It Away

    I’m not a pioneer storing enough root vegetables to see my family through the winter. I don’t need to can tomatoes and beans or make pickles and jams that will last until next spring. Cub Foods is five minutes away, and they aren’t going to run out anytime soon. But the impulse to preserve the harvest seems to be encoded in my DNA.

    Part of it is the pleasure of perfect ripeness—it all tastes to so good. Tomatoes, sweet corn, green beans, and eggplant are tender and flavorful. Basil, mint, and cilantro are at their fragrant best. Sweet juicy peaches and crisp apples are delicious. I want to save all of those fresh, wonderful flavors.

    Everything’s cheap, especially at the farmer’s market. How can I resist? Truthfully though, my urge to preserve isn’t really about saving money. By the time I’ve driven to a few farmer’s markets to hunt and gather . . . well, savings isn’t exactly the point.

    Some of it is pure celebration. So many fruits and vegetables—a feast! There’s joy in the bounty. Someone (not me) planted, watered, weeded, and protected the crops, and Nature delivered again. It’s very reassuring. If you do the steps, food will grow.

    After rhapsodizing about the pleasure of harvesting and preserving, you’d think I must be in a canning frenzy this time of year, but no. I like the idea of it, but I’m lazy. I’ll probably make and freeze a small batch of pesto that has the exact right amount of garlic. I’ve already frozen about 18 cups of ginger peaches—my favorite fruit. I can enjoy them when snow is on the ground and spring seems a long way off.

    Something about those efforts satisfies my innate need to squirrel away food before winter.

     

    , , , , , ,

    6 responses to “Squirreling It Away”

    1. Karen Martha Avatar

      You’ve made me so hungry, I’m going to the co-op today to get some peaches. They’ve been just heavenly this year. Ginger peaches? Do I just sprinkle them with a little ginger?

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        That would probably work. I do something more elaborate— boiling fresh ginger to make a tea, tuning that into a simple syrup 😁

    2. Susanne Avatar

      I have never canned anything but admire those who do. It is a LOT of work. I remember my mom canning produce and making jams all summer long from the first ripe strawberry to the last green tomato. I enjoy farmers markets too. They’re like vegetable jewelry stores. Your ginger peaches sound heavenly.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        Love the comparison — all those fruits and veggies a pretty as jewels— and collectible!

    3. bbachel Avatar
      bbachel

      I like thinking of you enjoying your squirreled away ginger peaches come winter.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        Maybe you come and sample them 😉

  • Shake the Marbles

    As a kid I coveted my brother’s denim bag filled with marbles. The cool surfaces of the aggies, cat eyes, tigers and shooters. The odd tactile sensation of a steely or clay. I wasn’t supposed to touch the bag, but when he was at baseball I poured those tiny balls on the carpet and sorted the wealth into groups.

    Like my brother the bag of wonders is gone. Toys were divided by gender in those days so I doubt if anyone thought a girl might cart pounds of glass, metal and clay into her future. The remnants of his childhood that I still carry are a Boy Scout canteen, a varsity track hooded sweatshirt, and books.

    My husband recently had a nasty biking accident. Comments about shaking his marbles loose or losing his marbles brought back memories of that blue denim bag with its grimy string. As each specialist completed their exam and shared results the bag refilled, the bits of information building a report that suggested he would need time to heal, but would be okay.

    When this crisis is closed I’m going to sew myself a bag, leave it outside to fade and get dirty while I search antique stores for marbles to commemorate all that has been good in our lives. Some day when we’re downsizing, and our kids think I’m being weird, I’m going to carry that bag to a new place. Now and then I’ll look at each marble chosen in honor of the memories of the family of my birth and the family my husband and I made. dqxAg4RVSx64bVUg0%6uLg

    , , , , ,

    3 responses to “Shake the Marbles”

    1. Karen Seashore Avatar

      I also loved marbles when I was a kid — and gave my children marbles in nice bags when they were young…marbles have a mysterious healing and calming quality for me still, and you have captured that so evocatively…time to find some nice old marbles for my grandchildren.

    2. Susanne Avatar

      Your memory of marbles triggered an old one of mine playing marbles as a little girl but then your story veered in an unexpected direction. Lovely lovely post.

    3. Eliza Waters Avatar

      Sweet memories carried forward, beautifully penned.

  • A Closer Look

    I’ve recently discovered the joy of flower arrangements small enough to fit in the clutter of my desk. A gift of an ikebana vase encouraged me to assemble pink and yellow snapdragons past their prime for the drama of a large vase, but fine in this setting. Since the petite vase is inches away, I see more details. To the right of the fading yellow flower are hopeful buds trying—as nature always does—to assert itself and establish another generation.

    The blue ageratum, so short that it’s usually overlooked for most bouquets, holds its own here. Its exuberant fuzzy mop has lasted for days, and more buds are opening.

     I’ve never noticed the sweet florets of the white loosestrife behind the green spear of its leaf. More often I’ve meditated on its name—loosestrife. Loose strife? I inherited this unruly perennial with the house, and it certainly has loosed strife in my garden, mobbing and obscuring several large peonies. Yearly, I root it out, but it comes back. Up close, it’s so dainty, it almost seems innocent in its mute insistence.

    And hosta, a determined survivor. Neither polar vortexes nor voracious bunnies can kill it, though sometimes I wish one of them would. In the yard, it seems so ordinary, but close-up, I’m struck by how graceful its cream and green leaves are and the way they mimic the loosestrife’s curve.

    This miniature holds the persistence of strife loosed in the world but it’s outweighed by enduring delicacy, grace, and beauty. In that I find hope.

    , ,

    14 responses to “A Closer Look”

    1. Judy Corrigan Avatar
      Judy Corrigan

      You’ve inspired me to add a bouquet of flowers to the mess on my desk! It might also be inspiration to clean up my desk! Lovely flowers, beautiful bouquet!

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        I focus on the flowers and ignore the mess! 😉

      2. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        I just focus on the flowers and ignore the mess! 😉

    2. Susanne Avatar

      I have a vase like that but didn’t know what it was called. And now I’ll have fun making tiny arrangements. Here we have purple loosestrife which is an invasive plant that sounds like a version of what you have. It is very pretty.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        Yep, the kind I have is called gooseneck loosestrife and it’s definitely invasive. I’m also familiar with purple loosestrife.

    3. bbachel Avatar
      bbachel

      Do I recall correctly that Cathy M’s mom practiced the art of ikebana? In any case, I loved your essay, which prompted me to spend an few overdue moments in my backyard, paying attention to the flowers now in bloom.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        Huh. I didn’t know that about Cathy’s mom. Glad I inspired you to visit your garden!

    4. Eliza Waters Avatar

      Very sweet arrangement, Ellen. Small vases are perfect for desks. I like having flowers close by where I can see the details close up and sniff any sweet scent there may be (sweet peas are to my left right now – ahhh!). Nature has the power to renew us!

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        I’m envious of your sweet peas. I’ll have to give them a try next year.

        1. Eliza Waters Avatar

          I highly recommend them! Fyi, they need to go in the ground as soon as the soil can be worked (prior to the last frost as they need cold to germinate). My first crop, many years ago, I planted too late & didn’t do well because they hit the heat of summer before blossom set. They love it cool, although new hybrids are more heat tolerant. Plant lots so you’ll have many posies. 🙂

        2. Ellen Shriner Avatar

          Appreciate the tips!

    5. Katherine Avatar
      Katherine

      A lovely arrangement, and an even lovelier mediation on it!

      1. Katherine Avatar
        Katherine

        *meditation*


Recent Posts

  • My New Rocket

    A whole new mode of transport

  • She Did

    On the day of our sale, when the buyer signed and I knew—really knew—that our home was sold, I felt the pressure of years gathering in my chest. Tears burst out. I was standing in the kitchen of our RV when the weight of it hit me. I was not four years old, or eight,…

  • Lazy, Crazy, Days of Summer

    What is it about summer that inspires such expectations? Eating ice cream in the afternoon? Walking in sand? Sitting on a bench with a good friend? A bad mosquito bite?