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Posts Tagged ‘Photography’

I have a tendency to overwater African violets. But when I tuck them in a sunny nook where I forget about them … voila! New green growth and several blooms in a lovely shade of purple.

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I may have let these plants get out of hand but for some reason I don’t mind. At least not yet. I do forsee a trim sometime soon.

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garlic harvest 2021

It was a little scary planting the cloves last fall. Was the spacing right? Would there be enough sunlight? What about the darned squirrel that keeps digging in the dirt? In the end, it turned out alright. Only lost one bulb to the squirrel.

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basil from the garden for pesto

Yesterday Steve and I were looking down at a single sheet of paper. His last will and testament dated August 2018. In that year during that month just a few days before that will was completed we had sat in a doctor’s office, the top in his field. He stared intently at a scan of Steve’s brain. He eventually nodded and essentially said I see where it is, it is growing fast so how about we do the surgery early next week.

What followed was this blur of activity as Steve kept us focused on the practical like preparing his office to be without their scientist, contacting financial institutions, filling the fridge, making sure I knew passwords, and of course sharing the news with family and friends. We had been in the process of updating his will and doing my first will anyway. But there was no time to complete that process so the lawyer coached him through what to put on that single sheet and to sign with witnesses present.

As I have told Steve over the years he attracts a strong team and the medical team was strong for the surgery. And they were strong for the unexpected second brain surgery that took place the following year and the subsequent intensive physical therapy. In between the two surgeries my youngest brother died in Virginia. Steve couldn’t travel with me. Following the second surgery my second oldest brother died. Steve determinedly made that trek. He could not do so when my eldest brother died only a few months later of cancer during the midst of the pandemic. Nor could I.

And in the midst of all that we closed on a house just as the pandemic struck. It was one of the most onerous processes I’ve ever been through. We moved ourselves in. The backyard was a demolition area but we managed to use every nook and cranny on the side of the house to grow a garden. Steve had his tomatoes and basil. I had my herbs and flowers. I accidentally hoarded eggs instead of toilet tissue and Steve was able to work in the basement and build us a dining room table. We zoomed zoomed zoomed like everyone else for work and to connect with family and friends. We did make excursions around the neighborhood with me constantly snapping at Steve to pull up his mask. We were cautious but not afraid. In a sense we were resolute … you deal with what comes at you because that’s all you can do.

Before August, nearly three years later, we will have our official wills completed. That’s why we were looking at that older document, to remind ourselves, and to reflect, “Wow. Three years? Is that when this whirlwind journey began?”

The yard that was a demolition project is now a full-fledged garden with different raised beds that Steve built. He has retired, more or less, and now enjoys the ability if not the outright necessity of impromptu midday naps. I was able to remain employed and of late have been given leave to do more writing and historical research. I’m committed to resuming photography and more creative writing, with what extra time I don’t know.

Soon Steve and I will go outside to pick some basil. Pesto will be made along with dinner. He moves a little slower in the kitchen in the evening hours so I will be sous chef and perhaps take some photos for instagram. I’ve had more pesto this year than in all the earlier years of my life. I can’t complain. I don’t think I can complain about much of anything.

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An impromptu lunch with items from the fridge, from the garden and homemade on the spot (Steve’s seasoned mayo). Feel very grateful to have access to such goodies.

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If I were to write about petunias I would be writing about my mother. She grew them in these narrow wooden raised beds my father made for her. It was easy for us to go out near dusk and pick the spent blooms. I think it was a pleasant activity for her. So each time I walk past this container and the others in the yard, I stoop to look for blossoms to pick and I think of her with a smile.

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red onions apple cider vinegar and thyme

It took me about a year but I finally stopped just dreaming and talking about pickling onions and finally just pickled the darn onions.

white onion red wine vinegar and oregano

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I think I have the most eclectic garden ever but the birds, bunnies, squirrels, possum and occasional wild turkey don’t seem to mind. Now I’m just waiting on the butterflies.

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