dandelions, and more

Book revision, so far, hasn't really touched on the dandelions chapter, which is one of the better ones: I'm still trying to give seaweed a better shape, argument, point.  But it was a wonderful surprise to see dandelions on sale at Agua Fria Nurseries today!  Very healthy, flourishing dandelions, in the herbs section - but at the same time, they were looking like a book illustration, not least because they had the battered plastic of the greenhouse covering behind them.

It was the annual, start-of-our-summer plant shop - and I had a notably smaller cart than usual, and it was notably more expensive than even last year.  But I always love going there, even if I do seem to take photos of the same things (though the dandelions are new!) year after year.  This time I'll strip the lilies and seed-heads of their color ...

but I think I should keep the bright green of the nettles (tea! soup! I remember once having nettle and barley soup at a long, long ago health food cafe and shop on the Cowley Road, Uhuru ... a cafe long ago, to be sure, but I see that they are still going after fifty years! as a food shop.  Fifty years!  Congratulations to them.  They opened in my final year as an undergraduate... which I realize makes it fifty years since I did my Finals examinations, which remain pretty vividly seared into my memory.).

 

Moth would like you to know

that she is supervising my final book revisions, and she has a number of suggestions to make - most of them critical.

 

buffalo gourd

It's the annual resurgence of the buffalo gourds, bringing splashes of bright yellow to the verges, and starting off on their quest to bring into being the most bitter (and for that matter poisonous) fruit possible.  I know I've commented in the past that they have their uses (as purgatives, or for making soap), but I think I'll content myself with the knowledge that their function is to be cheerful.

 

from one house to another

Over the decades driving between LA and Santa Fe - or New Jersey and New Mexico - we've kept up the tradition wherever possible: flowers from the garden of one house go into a little vase or jam jar, wedged in place in a cup holder by paper towels, and then taken out once we've arrived at our destination.  So here are geraniums and basil and rosemary and ferns from LA, gracing our kitchen window sill in Eldorado.

 

morning, afternoon

Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, would it?  Alice managed a chemically-enhanced sleep, last night, pinioned in place with Gramsci on her feet. I had to cope with Moth wanting - well, what? - all night long.  She has a pretty little soft mew, but not when it continues all night.  Yes, little helpings of kibble shut her up for a bit, and then, just as I was back asleep and dreaming ... mew mew mew.  And then, in the early morning, she shifted into meditative Egyptian mode.

Safely back in Eldorado, at last.  We just missed most of this storm.  And now, it's flat out for me for the next six weeks, getting my book ready to send off, in final form, at the end of July.  Eeep!  Minimalist contact between me and the rest of the world, for a while.

 

on the road again (with cats)

Just as happened almost four years to the day when we turned up at La Posada, the car park was full of Corvettes (and the dining room full of their occupiers), en route to the Grand Canyon.  

The cats had no problem settling in - Gramsci is back on his favorite armoire, and Moth roaming around somewhere -

and I had no problem settling into a margarita, with a strange Route 66 centennial logo on top, and a background that has come out very oddly, and without deliberate input, like a David Hockney iPad painting.

 

the dream of the great outdoors

There is, of course, a screen between Gramsci and outside, and in any case, the window is never open as wide as this except when someone is in the room.  However, the only way to cool things down effectively is to have the window open in the early morning, run the ceiling fan, and - well, hope that the effect lasts.  We broke down today, and turned on the AC, in the end.  I think Grams is hoping that the birds are still nesting on the balcony: little does he realize that that's something which is unlikely to happen again, after the Mitigation Measures.