Category Archives: spring
I don’t think I could live in a tropical climate long term. I like food too much.
For the last week or so, it’s been a steady 30 degrees during the day and then around 20 at night. We don’t have air conditioning, so the heat never really abates.
In these temperatures, neither one of us feels much like cooking. Who wants to heat up the house any further by turning on the stove or the oven? I don’t even feel much like eating or drinking something hot.
Salad is great, and there are a million ways to make it. It’s a bit early for much in the way of local ingredients but we have used many of the garden herbs.
Ordinarily we have an early spring by Canadian standards, and so I’m spoiled with early edible blossoms and veggies at the farmers market.
This year it was cool and wet, so the dandelions and arugula were the first bonuses. The price I paid for scrounging them was a stunning array of mosquito bites.
I don’t plan on starting a raw diet, so I was happy when I heard the forecast for cooler temps over the next week. Then I can adjust to this scenario and come up with some other meals that work in the heat (besides salads and omelettes).
Perhaps I’m just getting slow to adjust in my advancing years? I haven’t even managed to unpack my summer outfits yet! Even if one were to say they didn’t believe in climate change (which seems hard unless you never look out a window) one would have to believe in some sort of adjusting, don’t you think?
What do you cook in the heat? I’d love to hear some new ideas. I’m certainly inspired to check my tropical cookbooks. Watch for new recipes 🙂
In the last week I lost my mojo. I looked daily for inspiration on writing and I came up empty every time. I haven’t been cooking anything except eggs and warming leftovers. I need to shake this off.
Our cool spring weather broke on the long weekend and we were inundated with heat. The first blossom to make a stand was a poppy.
Seeing it stand there, so striking and strong, I was encouraged.
As I approached to take a close up though, I noticed something…
I took it as a sign. I’m going to attempt not beating myself up for past behaviour and move forward. Tomorrow is another day. And another post.
I haven’t been able to do as much in my garden as I would like this spring. It’s too cold and wet. The ground is cold for the plants and the wind is cold for me. So, to cheer myself up I went to the nursery.
This might sound like backwards behaviour but I felt better as soon as I got there. I could smell the fresh cut flowers. I chuckled at the whimsical garden statues (who wouldn’t love to have a smirking dragon lying in their grass?). It was drizzling as I headed to the tables of plants under tarps; not many souls except me and a few foul weather friends.
In the end I splurged on a few plants I needed to replace – lemon verbena, globe basil and an heirloom beefsteak tomato. They were ones that are hard to find and they should be happy in my greenhouse for the next week or so. Just for fun I decided to include a few geraniums that will be my salute to Canada’s sesquicentennial.
Today is May Day, a celebration in many parts of the world – some countries have made it a workers day, and others have it as a celebration of spring, an evolution of pagan festivals such as Beltane. I am always struck by nature’s timeline on this day, perhaps because I live in Canada where the winter weather likes to linger.
It seems this year I am leaning more to the other side of May Day’s meaning – I need help to get out of my winter funk. I was in the garden this morning with my fingers in the dirt and that was a good tonic but wearing two woolly layers and still having my gumboots dampened my mood, if you’ll pardon the pun. My Lilies of the Valley have come up, but are far from blooming yet this year, so there will be no real “Fête du Muguet” for me.
The naval term “mayday” was created in 1923 by a British radio operator who came up with an easily recognizable phrase (he was inspired by the French “m’aider”, meaning “help me”). It is repeated 3 times when calling for help, to make sure everyone hears it correctly. It seems to me that wouldn’t be too hard in disastrous situations; one has a tendency to shout and repeat things. When the clouds get low and the wind blows day after day I feel like I should run out in the yard and send out this call.
I suppose a better way to deal with our long winter is to engage in the celebration of moving forward, though. I flipped the calendar pages and I will be planting the last of my greenhouse seedlings today. I will bake a pound cake to signify the sweeter time of summer with sunshine and warmth. (Historically, this was when grazing animals were put out to pasture to feed on the wild grasses and flowers, making butter and milk richer and more flavourful.)
I’ve always wanted to dance under a Maypole, but that will take some more work. There is something romantic and wistful about maidens in flowing dresses dancing with ribbons barefoot in the grass. Maybe I’ll put together a fairy garden. No one will notice if I tiptoe out tonight to dance with the little ones and have my own Beltane ritual.