Thursday, December 7, 2006
Stop the Car #1
The photography nut who is not traveling alone must use this ploy sparingly, but Ralph is a generous companion when we’re not on a tight schedule. I spotted this scene on our approach to the town of Stratford, Ontario where we go each summer to see plays. We’re always anxious at that point to get to the place we’ll be staying and then be off to our first play, so I had to make a mental note to be on the lookout for the same place on the way out of town later in the week. Then it was just a matter of climbing down the bank at the side of the road to be closer to the rows of sunflowers. What I liked about this farm was the uncluttered look of the barn as a backdrop. One of my dreams in life is to see a field of sunflowers stretching off into the distance the way we see them in postcards of France. All that will require is that I be in a certain area of France at the right time of year on a nice day traveling in a car with a driver who will accommodate me whenever I implore him to stop the car. At least I know I can accomplish that last part if only the planets will align for the rest of the dream.
Wednesday, December 6, 2006
Wrapped in Memory
Christy has decreed that for the little children’s sakes, and in order to preserve the Santa-Christmas present connection, there should be no gifts under the tree serving as decorations all through December as in the past,. In addition, we should minimize the use of such time-saving strategies as Christmas bags and the filling of pre-wrapped boxes that get saved from year to year. It is necessary, therefore, to get the wrapping operation in gear now, and I have dragged all my favorite papers, ribbons, and labels up from the basement. Rochester friends, please do not “just drop in anytime” until I give the all-clear signal, because I’m making quite a mess. Gift wrapping is no chore for me, however. I love to make things look trim and beautiful and don’t even feel the pangs of loss and desolation as ripped paper mounts in a pile on Christmas morning in a fraction of the time it has taken to create the perfect and bountiful tableau. Going back 50 years, I was the designated wrapper of presents in my family; in fact, I even wrapped the gifts I would receive a few days later from my parents. My mother would hand me boxes and say, “This one’s for Elaine…and this one’s for you, so use some nice paper that you like.” Although this may be hard to believe, I didn’t mind and actually keep that scene as a happy memory. I wasn’t even tempted to peek or shake. An extreme example of this willingness to suspend the normal curiosity of childhood occurred the year I was in sixth grade. There appeared in the living room of our tiny apartment a large box-shaped object covered with a sheet and pushed against the wall; my mother cautioned us not to touch or peek at it. I exclaimed, “I know it must be a television!” since by 1955 a t.v. had appeared in most of our acquaintances’ homes. My mother said, “It could be a washing machine…” and I believed her. I’m pretty sure my sister also resisted the temptation to look during the next few days leading up to Christmas. Joy of joys, it did turn out to be a television, proving to a child who still dwelt in The Land of Magical Thinking that virtue is rewarded and not peeking had turned the box into a treasure chest in which we would discover The Lone Ranger, Lassie, and Shirley Temple re-runs.
Tuesday, December 5, 2006
Our Gang
I would describe myself as a person with a wide circle of acquaintances but not many friends. Most of my preferred pastimes are solitary pursuits, and I have become accustomed to seeing only family members for several days at a time without regret. There is one circle of friends, however, whose company always gives me satisfaction. It is not just that we have our livelihood in common or that we share the links to colleagues and former students naturally arising from the culture of a school. I believe our bond stems partly from the fact that we are so dissimilar—in upbringing, life experience, and current interests—and yet we accept our differences, most of the time uncritically and frequently with admiration. If I were going to the doctor to discuss a serious problem, I’d want Karen with me to draw on her encyclopedic knowledge of brain, body, and behavior. If only I had Sandy to keep my social calendar current, I wouldn’t have to examine old emails frantically to figure out when I was supposed to show up for book discussions or quick suppers with the group. (Actually, if it weren’t for Sandy, there wouldn’t be many such events.) Try and stay grumpy when Charlene is telling a story, often with herself as the fall guy. Joanne doesn’t know how to place her own interests above those of the group or ahead of anyone else’s. If Alice has ever spoken ill of another person, I was never there to hear it. Gail’s sense of adventure leads her to the nooks and crannies of every place she visits, and she has proven herself a steadfast friend and comforter to many of us just when she could use a little herself. Carol is clever and resourceful and can squeeze more results from an hour of labor than anyone I know, and we have all leaned on her for help with one task or another. Without their having to say it, I know they care about me, admire my rather ordinary accomplishments, and are willing to endure my grandma anecdotes without rolling their eyes heavenward. They take nothing from me and give so much.
Saturday, December 2, 2006
Putting the Canal to Bed
Right after Thanksgiving, the Erie Canal near us in Rochester was drained and appears to have dropped at least five feet. This has left a shallow basin of creamy brown water below the rocky inclined banks. I’d say the owners of this dock don’t have to worry about a wake from fast-moving boats for the next few months. The canal’s yearly cycle of water levels is controlled by the routine manipulation of guard gates spaced along the route rather than being determined by rainfall, although the focused rainstorms early last summer did cause flooding and damaged some of the locks, perhaps before the gates could be engaged. You can compare the water level shown here to the picture entry for Saturday, October 28, 2006 when the canal was still on its summer schedule. The Rochester Public Library has an online archive of Erie Canal photographs, including this page of winter images.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
I’ve Got Mail
Raise your hand if you rejoice at seeing “spam” in your email inbox. That would be nobody I know. Many of us have subscribed to the Do Not Call lists that have actually succeeded in eliminating the dinner hour phone solicitations. We even seem to be getting less junk mail. But I still get excited when my seed catalogs start arriving, even though the growing stack includes many I didn’t request. In fact, yesterday I got four: an old standby, Seymour’s Selected Seeds, but also The Vermont Bean Seed Company (~100 varieties of beans in addition to other common and rare vegetables), Totally Tomatoes (40 pages of tomato varieties), and one that makes me feel like a special customer, McClure & Zimmerman (Quality Flowerbulb Brokers for the Dedicated Bulb Enthusiast). I haven’t figured out why they all have the same address in Randolph, Wisconsin, since the catalog style and seed offerings differ substantially; maybe it’s just a catalog fulfillment center with a room full of computers and not a single agricultural item anywhere in sight. This year, I’ve made two great Internet finds. Dave’s Gardens, a consumer-friendly site with a lot of information contributed by home gardeners, has a Garden Watchdog section where readers rate and comment on the seeds and service of many sellers. That’s where I first read about Renee’s Garden which has to have the best seed packets ever and horticultural information on their website about every unusual variety they carry. The image that accompanies this entry shows the components of a sample Renee’s packet, along with an amaranthus plant in this year’s bridge garden. In the end, I will set aside a couple of evenings in January with a highlighter and last year’s seed list, make my selections from the colorful array of catalogs, and then order online. Even though I notice that Renee’s Garden does not even offer a “real” catalog and may represent the future of seed sales solely on the Internet, this is one arena where I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable going paperless.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Land of Plenty
On the way home from the airport on Monday morning at 5:00 a.m. there was a segment on NPR about how much food Americans waste. Who among us, four days after the usual bountiful Thanksgiving festivities, could hear such a discussion without some discomfort? Later that day, working again on the never-ending basement archaeology project, I came upon a World War II ration booklet with my name on it. It was 1943 and I was recorded as five weeks old and 9 ½ pounds. Several of the sheets of ration stamps are intact but some had been used. I asked my mother about the experience of using ration stamps. Her words: "I remember that red stamps were for meat, but there was also rationing or scarcity of sugar, butter (soon gone altogether), coffee, gasoline, shoes, and rubber for baby pants. The point was to have things for the military, but then the items just became scarce or totally unavailable. There would be long lines and a hassle to apply your points; you never had enough meat, so that’s when I learned to make dishes like dried lima beans and sausage. Beef was the highest price and points of all and hot dogs were lower. I made enchiladas out of green peppers, rice, tomato sauce, and hot dogs. Sometimes we had points but the butcher had no meat; other times we had points but not enough money. One time we scraped together the money for badly-needed shoes and the very day I was going to buy them the radio announced that [leather] shoes would be rationed so I didn’t even go shopping. It seems to me that canned fruits and vegetables were rationed but fresh ones were not. A truck would come around to collect used cans and other things we would now call recyclables. I don’t know why there would be so many unused stamps in that particular booklet." Perhaps it was because the instructions printed on the back include this admonition: If you don’t need it, DON’T BUY IT. Good advice, actually.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Panorama
One of the tricks that some digital cameras can perform is producing panoramic views. The LCD screen on the back of my Canon G6 helps by indicating where there is a seam between the previous image and the one being focused on currently. I then use a free “stitching” program, AutoStitch, that by some miracle combines all the images. The panorama that accompanies this entry, taken in the Japanese Garden at Seattle’s Washington Park Arboretum, was made from ten separate shots. Click on the picture to see it bigger; you may have to use the scroll bar to view the whole thing. A smaller view of a different part of this garden is made from three shots stitched together. Since a Japanese garden is really meant to be viewed as several small jewel-like vignettes rather than in a broad sweep, the panorama may not be as appropriate for this setting, but I sure do like the technology.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Surprise
A couple of very mild days have driven Farmer Jones outside to continue the late-fall cleanup. As predicted, the dahlias benefited from their careful propagation and wider spacing in the garden, so they’re airing out on every available horizontal surface before winter packaging. I took a final trek out back to deliver my 2006 farewell to the cutting and vegetable garden and found something wonderful: the cut-flower kale that we started from seed last April and found pretty ordinary during the summer had huge ruffled rose-like “flowers” at the end of long ridged stems. These specialty florist items are supposed to have a long vase life, but I have a feeling that we will be reminded before long that they are really cabbages. Usually at this time of year I have the nagging feeling that I should be writing down my evaluations of all my garden experiments, and I know I’ll forget a lot of my conclusions—which of the Talinum varieties was small and inconsequential and which produced graceful sprays of little jewels? which sage is hanging on and may actually come back next year? which of the celosias was multi-branching? But I won’t forget how the Brassica oleracea Sunrise and Sunset brightened the weekend after Thanksgiving. The only question will be whether or not to also buy the seeds of the varieties White Crane and Red Crane. What’s another tray of seedlings to garden lovers like the Joneses?