An Itty Bit of Spring in Wintry Poconos

Some strong winds danced among the trees surrounding Libby's house where we stayed for this schoolyear's winterbreak.[Our son  Zachary named the house after the real estate agent who helped us, thinking that was her house. So  Libby's house it is.]

The experience was both, eeriely scary and curious. The rolling winds coming and going leterally sounded like a tsunami headed our way. My thoughts stayed on one towering tree right in front of the house that swayed side to side with the wind, willing it to stay put.

In spite of our wintry winterbreak, I had a little spring growing in my kitchen.
Zachary's CHAYOTE. (Zachary loves this in chicken soup) My delay in cooking it  got  me in this situation.
I said, "Hello there CHAYOTE!" and It looked at me and gave me a nervous smile.

I inspected it and  decided to give it a chance to grow some shoots for me. Perhaps, I'll have a  feast of chayote  shoots in the summer. I will have to bring it back to Long Beach for its new lease on life. When I was in college, the house I rented with a roommate had a fence totally covered with chayote plant. It gave us quite a supply of chayote, but I particulary enjoyed harvesting the young shoots, steamed and bathed them with  vinegar and anchovies. Otherwise, they joined the vegetable stew pot.  I would love to see chayote shoots in the  Chinese market but my searching's to no avail. I'll try  growing shoots with this one.

So I situated it by the kitchen sink window (after a pictorial session) next to the flea market bottles to get some light while it waited for its next trip back to Long Beach.

an  itty-bitty promise of  spring 

Saturday noon, we left sunny Long Beach basking in spring weather for the Pocono mountains. Us pedagogues look forward to our yearly winterbreak every February . As we neared the Pocono Mountains, big fluffy wet snow greeted us. It fell until everything turned white. Every bare tree stood white and beautiful. I was entranced.

The next day, I went out and inspected the 3 blueberry bushes I planted last summer. The rocky soil they're in is not very hospitable but the plants are thriving. When our neighbor found out I planted  blueberries, she rolled her eyes and said, "Oh great!!! We'll have bears coming!" Wait till she finds out I'll plant more blueberries as soon as they are available. The rhubarbs have knobs peeking out. I wonder if the roses I planted will make it.

(pictures will follow when we get off the mountains and back to the city by the beach)

This winter that IS NOT is giving me the spring fever. I simply cannot wait to welcome back my perrenials. In fact, I already see some shoots peeking, obviously deceived by this not so normal season we are having. The flowers I took shots of last  spring/summer are the very ones I am giddily anticipating to see.





my white bleeding heart




dwarf pear blossoms





 dwrf apple blossom buds




dwarf apple blossoms



the apple blossoms turn white as the days  pass




even the dandelion puffs
(the flower inspector is mesmerized )



big splashes of red

shot in '09--my little squirt helpin out

 


these hibiscus stay only for a day



my fiery hibiscus

my moonface side by side my fiery hibiscus

blue/purple/pink hydrangea from one plant

pink hydrangea and asiatic lilly (this taken year '09)



peonies





my lavander

 


mini daisies




hot pink hydrangea



sideview --lily of the valley



dainty and faintly fragrant lily of the valley



columbine





alliums getting smaller by the year




columbine






peonies and  alliums




I can almost smell the  faint fragrance of this peony





I welcome even the lowly dandelion

 

my pink bleeding heart



crocus, of course, the harbinger of spring

 

Ms. Zygo, the Christmas Cactus

Last summer, I neglected to bring Ms. Zygo outside to have her share of beach air and sunny days. I thought the spot where she is sitting right now is good enough since it's slightly indirectly under my wee kitchen's skylight. Little did I know that she was none too happy about that. So last Christmas, she sat stoically on the same spot and never gave me one bloom. Not one bloom! Christmas flew by and Ms. Christmas cactus, so pissed, slept through the season. Today in February, she finally blooms but ONE flower as if to remind me she needs to go out when it's warm enough for her to bask in the sun.

I've learned my lesson well.

Ms. Zygo and her lone flower

Flower Inspector

When Zachary was a toddler, I called him the FLOWER INSPECTOR

Aaarrrgghhh...and he  squeezed my allium!!!!

If you can't beat them, EAT them!

 Some summers ago, I visited a friend in Hyde Park New York. She's the kind of person who sees a lint on her living room carpet five feet away, and must get up to pick it up. That's a preface to my saying that her backyard is well mowed and her vegetable and herb garden is well managed. Funny her mint stood in clusters and were sort of braided so they did not look wild. She is a neato, all right except that she could not get a handle on this particular weed that I happen to be very fond of. In my little garden, this weed is treated like royalty. I anticipate it's return every year and I replant them in pots. While both of us looked at the weeds that are growing back, after she pulled them out,  she asked me for advise about what she should do about it, and here's what I said, "If you can't beat it, then EAT it!!!"

"What do you mean?" she said. So I started to explain that she could make a salad out of it or simply steam it and eat it plain or put it in her stews. She was aghast...then she shrugged and thought I'm pulling her leg. Then I told her the truth, for what she and I thought is a worthless weed is in fact a powerhouse of nutrients topped with Omega-3. It is in fact the lowly purslane. Growing up in the Philippines, I used to see this weed by the roadside, or in between plants waiting to be pulled out, not knowing what healthful food it is until one day browsing through the farmer's market along 116th street station by Columbia University, I saw clumps of them for not so cheap dollars. I asked the vendor it's name and what I can do with it. Coming home, I googled purslane and there I saw the light. I was a convert. I knew I had to convince my friend too. My words were not enough for her for when you know purslane all your life as a pesky weed, you can't just chop 'em off and make salad out of them.So I printed information about them with accompanying pictures of course. The next time I visited her, her vegetable garden were littered with purslane plant,  top chopped off. She could not get enough salad out of them.

Henry David Thoreau had this to say about the lowly purslane:

                 "I have made a satisfactory dinner off a dish of purslane which I gathered
                  and boiled. Yet men have come to such a pass that they frequently starve,
                  not from want of  necessaries, but for want o luxuries."

Purslane

Some purslane growing  with basil and rosemary