Please Come Visit Me at Potager Cottage!

HEY! I've started a new blog designed to follow my life at Potager Cottage. If I'm not here, I'm probably doodling around over there. Please, come visit! You can click the Potager Cottage link at the top of this page, or just click

HERE

Milton, Myrthful, and Potager Cottage

My grandpa, Milton, was a watermelon farmer. 

He grew other melons too, but watermelons were his big crop.  I remember loading up his truck to drive the melons into town to sell, just like they're doing in the photo below.

Grandpa Milton, Grandma Myrthful, and helper.

 When we were young, my brother and I would spend summers with my grandparents on their Arizona farm, and later, on their Idaho farm (pictured to the left).  My grandparents (the Mundalls) were extremely conservative, hard-working folks. No TV; not a lot of toys; no shopping days or restaurants; no parties; no air conditioning; just farm.

On Saturdays they took us to a tiny church that smelled like old hymnals and dentures.  And, during the week, if we worked enough rows of melons, grandpa would take us into the Weiser town pool to go swimming.

I remember missing my mom immensely during these long summer visits.  But, I also remember all the smells sounds and feels of the farm.  It was always hot, even at night.  We left the windows open, turned on the loud square fans and stood in the cold shower with our pjs on just before bed in hopes that the wet clothes would keep us cool enough to fall asleep before they dried.  Mornings came early and were cool enough to be comfortable for a millisecond.

The house smelled like comfort, like fresh-baked wheat sticks.  I don't ever remember going to a grocery store.  Grandma, Myrthful, made everything we ate from scratch, mostly from ingredients grown in her gardens.  She had a large deep freezer in the garage, the kind you had to use an ice-pick to dig the food out of, where she froze fruits and veggies for the winter; and a large canning pantry filled with jars of peaches, applesauce, apricots, green beans, and any other garden treasure you might imagine.  She grew everything.  And I had the privilege (not that I appreciated it) of working right along side her from dawn to dusk.

Myrthful in her garden.  Notice the stick-made bean poles.

We took scraps to the hens and cleared the boxes of the fresh eggs. We milked the cows and carried the buckets to the mud room, where they sat to be skimmed (seems like there was always a bucket or two of milk in there).  We climbed the ladders to collect fruit from her many fruit trees.  She would send me into the towering tomato plants with a metal-handled bucket and a mission to pluck off every last pudgy green tomato worm.  We sat on the porch and snapped beans, shucked peas, and husked corn (which I liked to make dolls out of).  In the kitchen I had a stool in front of the sink where I would wash and halve apricots, carefully removing the worms form the center.  I set the table, cleared the table, washed the dishes, and collapsed into a cozy chair when the day came to a close.

I don't ever remember hearing a radio, just the crickets, toads, mosquitos, train whistles, chicken clucks, cow moans, tires rolling on rugged dirt paths, and the whispery whistles my grandma would compose while sewing or crocheting in the evening.

Grandpa was a smallish man, I think about 5 foot 7 inches tall, but he was huge in my eyes.  He always donned a woven cowboy hat the smelled of straw, sweat, and shampooed hair.  When he came in for the night he scrubbed his hands with irish spring (or a soap that smelt of that).  He laughed in bellows and told "true" stories of his many adventures with bears and lions and caves, that only seemed possible in the world of fiction.  He worked his fields with fierce determination.  If I was lucky, I got to ride in his tractor, or beside him in his farm trucks (known to be missing doors) over the dirt roads when he took his melons into town.  He called milk "cow juice" and soy sauce "bug juice".  And he was my favorite.  I would begrudge my brother who got to run off to do chores with grandpa while grandma made me stay in and learn to sew.

We got to play sometimes too.  My brother and I would sit at the irrigation ditch and use the mud to make bricks for houses.  We would spend hours there.  To this day I love the smell of the irrigation ditches when I drive on old farm roads.  I roll the windows down and inhale the cool air and childhood memories.  We would climb the hay bales in the barn and jump from great heights to piles of hay below.  We would put milk bowls out for the random farm kitties that were always skittering about.  We would catch grasshoppers and toads.  And, we always enjoyed spinning around in the tire swing hanging from the tree out front.

Those years were a gift.  They rooted a love within me for playing in the dirt and living a simple, organic, sustainable life.  I feel my heritage when I'm digging in our cottage garden now.  I sense their  love for the farm and nature, a love that they passed on to their five daughters and beyond.  This little corner house surrounded in untamed dirt and weeds feeds that love in me.

It has been 4 months since we moved into this cottage in Benicia.  These have not been easy months. Our home has demanded patience, creative organization, and hard labor from us, nearly breaking us.  I have always named my homes, a practice I picked up from a short time at school in England.  I love how English homes are named.  Home is so personal to me that a name seems more appropriate than a sterile number.  We have debated names for this home since before we moved in, but have struggled to settle on anything.  We decided to just sit with it.  Live in the house and wait for her name to present itself.  At last, it has!  As I was wandering through the land of Pinterest the other day I came across the name for a vegetable garden that sits just outside your door; it's called a potager.  Perfect!  We have vegetable gardens just outside our front and back doors.  So we have dubbed our sweet little home 'Potager Cottage'.  She's not a farm but she has revived my sweet memories from those summer days and the two beautiful souls who instilled this home-grown love in me.

Potager Cottage

Saturday's Snippets (A Continuation of the Friend/Family-a-thon)

The Motion of Laughter.

The Warming of Hearts... and Toes.

And Marshmallows...

Lanterns! More Patio Garden Play

My patio garden is evolving...

Look what I found on freecycle!  

A rustic plant stand which also serves as storage for spare pillows.

I've lugged this metal wall art around for years.  It's never been my favorite piece but I'm trying it out in the garden.  

Sometimes I have to sit with something for a few days before I know if I love it or not.

I found this hanging gas-lantern (on the right) at a garage sale for $2.00!

And everyone's favorite addition...

These fabulous chinese lantern string lights which I found on freecycle.  They turn the garden into a mystical place at night.

Two questions for my fellow gardeners:

1. My hydrangeas seem to be losing their color.  What might be causing this?Have the blooms just lived out their days?
2. My tomato plants are small and have shriveled and sometimes dead leaves.  I've harvested a lot of little tomatoes from them but the plants don't look healthy.  What should I do?

Happy digging!

Making Peace With 'Less is More'

As I've mentioned before, I live in a small two bedroom house with my three kids, three dogs, and a guinea pig named Princess. It requires a great deal of medication creativity, but it's happening.

It hasn't always been like this.  A few years back I lived here:

Spent weekends here:

And drove these:

It was nice. I won't deny it. So far, from my experience, many aspects of life are easier with money.

BUT... The STUFF. That was a lot to manage. The book keeping, the cleaning, landscaping, furnishing; making enough of a living to keep up with it all and then managing that. I remember wishing I could find a way to simplify. 


I remember missing the single mortgage and no car payments. I loved that my kids were living such a comfortable life, but I was overwhelmed with it all. But knowing how to (0r wanting to) deconstruct what we'd worked so hard to build was beyond me.

DONE

What I didn't think I could do, the universe did for me (and for way too many others). It was a painful process. 

I remember the first thing I sold. It was a garden fountain. I couldn't even be there when the buyers took it away. I hid inside my bedroom until it was over. I sort of just went on auto pilot for the rest of the purge. Detached. Let it all go... 

I remember my load lightening even with the pain. A sense of loss mixed with acceptance. Of course, I'm not suggesting the transition was that simple. I still dream about my homes, that life. I still feel it all slipping away...

But I have been given something fantastic.  LESS.  I am constantly amazed at how little we need to be comfortable, functional and happy.  And it has been a wonderfully creative challenge to learn how to live well in a smaller space.  I refer to it as "Jewel Box Living".  It is liberating and can be very beautiful.

There is a whole movement of small space dwelling out there.  I have found countless blogs and websites providing tips for simplified living.  People are embracing this lifestyle for a variety of reasons.  Obviously, the economy has been a major unsolicited motivator for many; but there's a large number of people choosing to live with less for environmental reasons, or to escape their hectic jobs, or to simplify what they manage, or to afford living in a city that they love, or to free their funds up for experiences like travel, etc.  

I'm loving the decor/design inspirations I've been finding.  This is a great example of an eclectic living room from a small space design contest hosted by Apartment Therapy:

I also enjoy the blogs on patio and balcony gardening.  It's fun to explore the possibilities of these frequently neglected retreats.  The blog, Small Place Style, posted this sweet pic of string lights:

My mother was a single mom for many years.  She was also a born designer.  She created beauty where ever we lived.  I learned from her that financially challenged doesn't equal trash, it just fosters greater creativity (if you let it).  What a gift she gave me.

I am pouring my heart into my jewel box and finding healing in it.  I would love to spotlight your petite spaces as well if you care to share. Inspiration is a fabulous motivator.

Just Me and My Boys

Kinsey was gone visiting family this week so it was just me and the boys.  They get bored without their sister, but we managed to keep busy anyway.


They washed everything on the patio with Palm Olive and the garden hose... everything;






Built domino/matchbox car towers (complete with lego man topper);











Mastered puzzles;










I took them out for scooter rides (well, I waddled, they rode).  






My attempt to alleviate my guilt from all of the tasty baked goods which Biscuit has been demanding.  


The boys jump, spin, race, yell accusations of cheating, seek out every possible puddle in which to splash muddy water all over themselves.   

And how I love the trees... 

We took advantage of the cool evenings with a fire and some marshmallow roasting.  






Still having issues with billowing smoke but the gooey goodness was worth it.

It was a good week.

Nature's BOUNTY

My little patio garden is doing pretty well...

We've already tasted several strawberries (one plant does not a strawberry shortcake make...).

And the tomatoes have been plentiful.  I ate this one in my salad tonight...

Gives you a picture of wholesomeness, doesn't it.  Cherie, growing her own food, eating off the land...

However

This...

is what pregnancy has reduced me too.

I've tried to resist.  
It's futile.  
Biscuit likes his baked goods.  And what good are brownies without a few varieties of ice cream, topped with a sprinkling of cinnamon toast crunch?  

He also likes lemons and cucumbers.  That makes up for it, right? 

**Sigh**

Patio Garden Play

Well, it's here.  

Summer.  

At noon last Friday, my kids climbed into my hot car after a half-day of classroom celebrations concluding their school year.  They had been counting down the days for weeks so I expected their excitement and energy.  What I didn't expect were the tears.  That's right.  We spent the rest of that afternoon wiping tears, looking at classroom photos and playing Bailey's class dance CD, which we had the pleasure of learning the routine to.  (I can now do the 'running man'.)


But the tears are all gone now.  At least the tears of sadness are.  The boredom is another thing all together.  Two plus months of summer heat, a small two bedroom house, no wii or X-box, limited cable, one computer and no money.  What to do?  What.... to..... do?

We decided to kick off the festivities by planting a patio garden.  So, after a hot, semi-chaotic, patience-testing, FUN filled trip to Lowe's, we plunged our fingers into the dirt (or manure - as my kids referred to it). 

I allowed each of the kids to select their own garden baby.  


Kinsey chose a watermelon and a cucumber.  Bailey opted for a cantaloupe.  Noah went for the strawberry.  










I added two tomato plants and some herbs to the mix.  

Considering that my patio is not large, I suspect we will feel a bit overtaken with sprawling vines by summer's end.  






No matter.  I'm looking at this as more of an experiment than a well thought out plan.



Regardless of the outcome, we have created a living, inspiring space to sit (or rock) in, share and laugh in, roast marshmallows in, and evolve in.

Dirty Fingers

I'm feeling pretty fatigued and uninspired right now. I want to write but the well is sparse. So in an attempt to boost my spirit and creativity, I played in the dirt a little.

When we decided to move from a house to a town home, I was afraid I would feel a big empty hole where my garden used to be. Initially, I did. But I have been learning that balcony gardening can be very nurturing. I even found a fun blog on Balcony gardens for inspiration.

This before picture (left) isn't the best, but sort of shows the lack of life that my balcony started with.

I've since added, let's see.... Gardenias, Geraniums, Hydrangeas, Dahlias, Impatiens, Jasmine, and ... hmmm... I forget the name of the little blue drapey ones.

I have really been wanting to grow a vegetable garden so, even though I got a late start, I decided to add some

Romaine lettuce, Cauliflower, Spinach, Chives, Basil, Sage, Blackberries, and YES! That is a RED STRAWBERRY!!! I am very proud of it.

I'm fairly certain I don't know what I'm doing. And that I'm not done doing it. I just know I NEED the green around me and the dirt in my fingers. So I play...