Jodi Arias? Guilty, first degree.
Sentence? Tomorrow.
Ducks vs. Red wings? We shall see… tonight!! Game 5. Yea!! Will be there cheering!
Fabulous children? Three.
Harvest from the garden? Homegrown red onions with thick green tops.
AP exam? Calculus
Menu? Organic
Generous, amazing and handsome husband? Lucky me.
Loads of laundry washed and folded? Four.
Best early mother’s day gift from V? Our two hour chat and thoughtful gift.
Freshly harvested on May 8, 2013
Continuing with the Herb theme:
To me, oregano speaks of Italian or Greek culinary delights. Pizza sauce or a Greek salad wouldn’t taste the same. The distinct peppery green flavor of oregano can usually be substituted with marjoram but otherwise it has no equal.
The name ‘oregano’ comes from the Greek for “joy of the mountain.” Early Greeks allowed their domestic animals to feed on wild oregano to make the meat tastier. Ancient herbalists used oregano in tea form to aid with coughs, digestion and even treat insect bites.
Because our climate is similar to this Mediterranean native, we can easily grow it here without much watering once established. There are over fifty types of oregano and I have a Greek variety with dark green, velvety leaves and a variegated species with yellow-green leaves and white markings. Oregano tends to spread and can take over, so it makes a sensible and scented ground cover, perfect for stony paths, steps or gracefully spilling over in rock gardens.
Snip off long stems and dry upside down in your kitchen and you will have dry oregano all the time. One tablespoon of minced fresh oregano=one teaspoon dried, crumbled oregano. I store mine in washed out, sterilized, recycled glass jars of other foodstuffs.
Oregano works in lots of different dishes. Get creative. But the tried and true partners of oregano include any tomato dish, and/or feta, mozzarella or ricotta cheeses, especially. If you make your own garlic bread, manicotti/lasagna fillings or pizza sauce, sprinkle it on liberally.
On Being PAMPERED
There’s nothing like taking a cat nap, stretching as you awaken to the sound of birdies chirping or soaking in a warm and scented bubble bath.
It’s the little joys like having lunch on a balcony, reading curled up by a fire or sipping herbal tea with a friend that feed me.
I search and find time to escape to my tree house, breathe in the scent of blossoms and chat or text with my children.
I realize I live a charmed life. I am provided for, encouraged and nourished. I am grateful beyond words.
There’s nothing like taking a walk by the shore, releasing tension as you cry under the streaming, steaming shower or collecting shells, stones or pinecones on a stroll.
It’s the small celebrations like smiles, courtesies and embraces that soothe me.
I seek and take time to play in my garden, smooth lotion on my skin and prepare creative dishes.
I sense many angels watch over me. I am never alone, bored or impoverished. I appreciate this wonderful world.
There’s nothing like cycling downhill on your bike with the wind rushing through your hair, dining out with a loved one or traipsing through a museum and having the time to read every bio that interests you.
It’s the tiny details like my children’s’ or husband’s voice, a lemonade brought to me poolside or striking a match to light a fragrant candle that caress me.
I root out and make time to visit with friends, get a massage and go to a musical.
I admit I have a lot to be thankful for. I grow, reach out and cry too. I feel blessed to be alive.
I had taken over the small back lawn to grow vegetables. All that remained now were brick planters, a patio, a huge pool and a kiddie swing set area. We had obviously outgrown our postage stamp lot. Considering the climate we live in, in OC, I was disheartened by the teeny, cramped outdoor space allotted to our outdoor living.
My husband and I are both from back east and we grew up in wide-open, green spaces. I don’t much care for block walls either. We grew up among soft hedging to divide property lines in the front yard and more private, wooden, earthy fencing around the back lots.
It is an inviting, accessible and liberal view and less divisive, closed and concrete looking than six-foot high stucco. It just seems friendlier.
With three little ones in tow, we launched the grand search for land. We drove to Lake Matthews and viewed the smog line from the top of two and a half acre lots, we checked out OPA with its horse friendly clientele and we visited parcels with wide street frontage. Our budget was fixed but our dream was flexible. Still, nothing said “home” to us.
And then one spring day, my husband saw an advertisement for a “just reduced” piece of real estate in Villa Park. As I waited in the front yard for the realtor to arrive, it seemed all the square footage of grass and dirt was frontage. The backyard was probably not what we were looking for (a place for me to garden, our three kids to run around in and enough lawn to throw a football for my husband).
I walked right through the interior of the house to the backyard. I called back my husband; he threw our offspring into our van and headed over.
We stood at the furthest back point of the narrow but deep lot. Overlooking the weedy sloped lawn, we clasped each other’s hands, looked towards the “as is” homestead and squeezed each other. We knew this is where we must raise our children.
That was sixteen years ago this spring. Our last chickadee is about to leave our VP nest. Although our house and lot was in shambles, dilapidated, neglected and mistreated, we saw the potential and the charm of our own nostalgia that drew us and kept us in Villa Park.
I’m Chicken Little. “The sky is falling” is a common phrase out of my mouth. I am a bit of an alarmist; quite the worrier and I can’t watch doomsday movies.
Over the past couple of weeks, we have been having issues with our pool equipment. It’s way too complicated to relay the back and forthing with the pool man and his team. Needless to say, they thought the best thing would be to put in a state of the art system.
Then, after weeks of a horrible noise coming out of our dishwasher, it finally broke. I have been hand-washing pots, pans, plates, glasses and flatware for the last several days. I have dishpan hands and need lots of lotion.
While I checked on our pool levels, leaks and status yesterday, I found out our sprinkler system was not working. The two boxes are situated side by side.
What’s next? Now what? How much is this going to cost?
I had noticed the dirt looked dry, but I just kept thinking the sprinklers would magically come on, perhaps the next day. I called and whined to the gardener immediately.
Well, then, in comes Mr. Wonderful with his cheery, can do attitude “don’t worry, it will all get taken care of, don’t stress.”
Lo and behold, He reset some button and the sprinklers are back on!!
Gracious me oh my, He traced the pool panel wire all the way around its trajectory and found three nicks in the wiring, spliced the wires…and voila, the system works again, saving us mucho bucks!!
I figured He was on a roll and asked him to check out the dishwasher. Unfortunately, that truly was a broken appliance that needed to be replaced but to my amazement (and so proud) as I shopped at Best Buy, Home Depot and Sears for that perfectly priced and fitted for our kitchen look dishwasher he called to let me know as he was removing the old one that he is confident he can install the new one!! My hero!
This man bowls me over with his capabilities, knowledge of just about everything and the patience of a saint when dealing with me, Chicken Little.
Was up in the mountains with daughter L.
I love the calm; the cozy and the cuddly feel of the cabin.
I could stay for days. But I also love the numerous hues and diverse textures of our home in VP.
At the tree house, I feel relaxed, renewed and rested at once.
My one potted plant full of tiny succulents lives on and thrives due to my neglect.
My bear and canoe lamp lights up its shade with mountain and pine tree shadows. It sits squarely in the middle of my beloved wicker chest with glass top I have had since I moved here, back in 1986.
Alongside it, is a picture of our family from our 2011 Christmas card. It was taken at Thanksgiving and is encased by a family of five bears’ frame. That is our family, now extending, growing and spreading out around the country.
Behind it, is a sign I picked up at a local gift shop crafted by a local artisan and it reads “Heaven’s a little closer when you’re in Lake Arrowhead.” How true.
And to the left, two ‘made to look like’ bark candles resting on a wave colored and shaped smallish tray, made of shelled aqua lacquer.
This little vignette speaks loudly of my affection for this place. The mantle is another stage and attraction. The maple-topped shelf behind the banister also shouts care. There is conscientious, thoughtful placement of meaningful objects and handed down, highly treasured family bequests.
This is not a house to raise your kids or to have large gatherings. This place is not a show off statement or a trendy sophisticated loft.
This abode disapproves of trouble and invites only rest. Rest for the eyes, rest for the limbs and rest for the soul.
Without the laughter, loudness and yelling nor the banging of doors and handprints on walls associated with children, this place resounds instead with quiet contemplation, peaceful thinking and an adult hush.
Without indoor pets to ravage furniture, soil carpets or litter the kitchen floor with tidbits of food, this place beckons you to just re-adjust yourself, bathe luxuriously and eat uninterrupted.
Without the bane of a landline, garden toil or errands to run, this place is a sanctuary of “no hurry”, a pause and a respite from the usual day-to-day schedule.
Although I love raising our children, petting our cats and tending our landscape, this place offers me the solitude to process my life, view everything in a new way and return back down the hill with gratitude and a renewed, refreshing joy.
Thank you to my loving, generous and clever husband for this gift of time, place and knowing.
Laguna Beach from the North – April 5, 2013
It is always fascinating to experience and understand that in So. Cal. we can have four microclimates at our fingertips at any given time. To the north, we have mountains with its pine, daffodils and dogwood trees. It’s always at least 5-10 degrees cooler in the summer and the only place nearby we can avail ourselves of snow, due to its elevation. The colors are forest green, brooding brown and lemon yellow.
To the east, we have the desert with its cacti, succulents and outer space vistas. It’s always warmer. Hot, even. The colors are muted, earthy and warmer toned pinks and peaches.
To the west, we have the coast with its bougainvillea, cape blue plumbago and wide panoramic views of the blue ocean. It’s always perfect weather here. It smells like the sea and is clean. The colors are saturated. Aqua, hot pinks and oranges, deep blues and palm tree green.
It’s great to live smack center where we can host all of the above flora but also roses, ranunculi and citrus. Right here, where I am planted, gardening is plentiful; it is a sanctuary for all sorts of birds and butterflies and all the sports teams/musical talent comes to town. The colors are bright. Vivid shades of greens, sexy deep reds, fancy oranges, saffron and pastel yellows, baby blues and pinks, violets, fuchsias and maroons.
How wonderful that mountain life and quiet desert is only a little over one hour away. The beach is just a half an hour drive.
Yesterday, we spent a few hours in Laguna Beach, my favorite artsy, fartsy coastline small town. We visited the Art Museum, ate at the famous Las Brisas and waded, climbed and observed in and around the tide pools. We even saw a whale. The shot of spray coming out of its blowhole and its shiny, slick back rose out of the water and we all gestured and pointed excitedly at the same time.
Laguna Beach Shoreline/Sea Birds on Rock 4/5/13
Both the leaves and flowers of this plant are beneficial and edible.
Ayurvedic experts instruct you to roll a leaf around your index finger and massage your gums and teeth in small circular motions. Your teeth will feel clean and your gums will gently tingle.
It has been used for centuries in Peru as a remedy for coughs, colds and the flu. Make a tea from bruised fresh leaves by adding one tablespoon to a cup of hot water and let it steep for ten minutes.
After pirates brought the herb to England in the 16th century, herbalists called it “Indian cress” and used it to treat scurvy and digestive problems.
Fresh leaves contain a natural antibiotic that is effective with respiratory ailments. Herbalists recommend eating three fresh leaves three times a day. Or make the tea that dates back to Peru before the New World was discovered and drink three times/day.
I enjoy the leaves and flowers, chopped up in salads or sprinkled on soups or sautéed veggies before serving. It’s a stunning and peppery garnish. You can use it like watercress so if a dish calls for it, just substitute.
Nasturtiums demand lots of sun and do well in poor soil. Perfect for those dead zones in your garden. They trail, spread and cascade beautifully too. They hate, hate, hate to be transplanted. Always buy the seed and just stick the seed under the dirt with your finger. Easy Peasy.
After awhile (like late summer), they become diseased with mildew, black spots or aphids. I just yank them out and the following year they come back due to allowing flowers to reseed.
This is why I love it here. Camellia
Wisteria at Cal Tech in Pasadena this afternoon.
Pasadena is a tony type of town. From the sweet smelling Rose Parade – to slick and affluent Colorado St. in downtown – to the opulent estates in Old Town. Nearby in San Marino, go for a stroll or spend all day at the massive Huntington Museum and Gardens. The LA Arboretum in Arcadia is close by, as well. If you ever get a chance, these are all great places for a quiet, contemplative and floral visit. Behind every vista; the San Gabriel Mountains stand majestically tall and often with snowcapped peaks. In the immediate vicinity; lush, manicured and splendiferous flower beds, lie underfoot.
Red Jalapeño Pepper from our October 2012 Harvest
Time to plant your tomatoes, squashes, cucumbers, pumpkins, eggplants, peppers, corn, basil, etc. if you live in Southern California. It’s the season to sow seeds or plant young summer veggie/herb plants. Get ready to visit nurseries and prepare your soil!! April is one of the best months to start and continue to transplant and incorporate vegetables and herbs right into June. Expect to enjoy your harvest from right away with herbs to approximately May through October (and sometimes November). Keep your kitchen gardens watered during the heat and harvest regularly.
Please feel free to email me or call or post if you need help or guidance. This is your opportunity to have healthy, happy and delicious food right in your backyard, terrace or windowsill. If you haven’t had this thrill, do it, this year and begin or start planning and dreaming – now! I am eager to assist you! And stay organic (soil, plants and seeds if possible and any fertilizers). No poison. Yuk. You end up poisoning everyone’s water. There are plenty of other solutions. Let’s get gardening!!!