From a Quiet Maine Island

Across this vast country, the sounds of clinking metal are a sure sign that the tomato cages are coming out of hiding. From garages and garden sheds to barns and potting benches, the stacks are being separated and set into place over fledgling vines. But, not at our cottage where the tomato cages remain on duty year 'round. You're probably thinking-who is she trying to kid? In Maine??? Yes, our tomato cages are out all year to protect our rare clusters of Pink Lady-Slipper orchids (Cypripedium-from two Greek words, cyperis and pedilion, meaning Aphrodite's slipper).

When we first moved to our cottage, we found one lone plant, which we covered with a cage. Since then, the Lady-Slippers have spread. They nuzzle into the deep duff we keep in their territory and regain the home ground once lost to a closely sheared lawn. Although the Lady-Slippers are supposed to bloom here in May, we always have them through the month of June.


I love to sit beside a Lady-Sipper and watch and listen. Our fuzzy bumblebees shoulder aside the fat pouches and push their way inside in search of food (which she won't find, but that is another story). The orchid shakes, and the bumblebee buzzes loudly as she tries to find her way out of the slippery walled flower. Finally, she pushes under a pollen laden anther, her furred body picks up a few life giving granules of pollen, and she transfers them to the stigma of the plant she is in or onto another. A bumblebee life insurance program. Sometimes I think that I am the president of the "Bumblebee Appreciation Society." Care to join?

Gardening in my nightgown (as usual).



Blessings of nature,

Sharon

On The Road Again

Dear Friends,

I am writing this blog entry from a hotel in Moab, Utah. We are heading east for my keynote address for the Annual Educational Conference for Herb Society of America in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It will be so wonderful to see many old friends and to make new ones. Herb gardeners are old souls connected to the past with an ancient lineage of plants used by mankind for thousands of years. Herbs, what would I do without them? Sometimes when I am worried, just walking among my beds of herbs, stroking their scented leaves, and talking to them makes me feel better.

The past few weeks are a blur. Together with my editor, I have been going through nearly 300 pages of manuscript, checking, rechecking, polishing, and making it fit for all of you to enjoy. Writing is a lot like tending a garden–I need to tend to it daily, watch it grow slowly, weed out anything extraneous, and step back to enjoy it.

Last week was a whirlwind happening. A wonderful photographer Miki Duisterhof (see http://www.mikiduisterhof.com/) and her assistant Tiffany Howe (http://www.tiffanyhowephotography.com/), and a photography director from Workman Publishing came out to do a photo shoot for the new book. The photographs were to help replace the lost 238 illustrations and to give the book a totally new look. I love, love, love what they did and think that you will too.



Showing your child the life within



Nature table top museum




Tea party inside the runner bean tepee

As the photographers worked their way through my home, studio, and garden, my husband Jeff took a few quick shots for this blog so you can get a small taste of what is to come.

I send you all the blessings of simple pleasures,

Sharon

Spring is in the Soil (and air)

Oh, it is amazing how energized I become in the spring. It is nearly dark, but I can't stop gardening. So much going on and I don't want to miss a thing.

This afternoon Jeff and I put up a beautiful 8 foot tall tepee in the middle of the garden. I am going to grow 'Painted Lady' runner beans and tiny pumpkins all over the framework. I will love sitting in there and watching the birds, and I know that my grands will love it too.

So much enjoyment out of just a few dollars worth of supplies and a mound of seeds I saved from our porch garden beside the sea in Maine.

Spring blessings,

Sharon

Everything AND the Kitchen Sink-More Year of the Magical Re

I fell in love with old fashioned (and sensible) farm sinks years ago when I visited my dear friends Jack and Jane Hogue at their farm Prairie Pedlar in Odebolt, Iowa. All across the countryside and back to California I searched and searched for such a sink, but to no avail.

A couple of years ago we were scouring Ohmega Salvage in Berkeley, California, and I found the sink I wanted, but alas, it had just been sold. We were planning to visit a niece and a friend in San Francisco for a few days and decided to check back again, though the sales staff said they seldom find the big farm sinks. As we were leaving one of the yard workers said, "Well, if you're going to be around for a couple days just leave me your number." We gave him our number and figured we'd never hear from him again, but we did. The next morning he called us and said, "Some people wanted to get rid of a sink in a kitchen they're demolishing, so we went in, carefully removed it, and brought it to the yard. Can you come see if you want it?"

We zoomed over the bridge and returned to Ohmega and lo' and behold, it was the one of my dreams. It took 3 men to load the 500 pound cast iron baby into the back of Jeff's Saab wagon, but they did it.

We designed our entire kitchen around the sink, but it was worth every gray hair and the back breaking task of moving it around. We had the porcelain refinished, but the job is a poor one, so Jeff is going to learn how to re-do it. I'll add it to his list.

Blessings to you all,

Sharon

From an old garden book:

The Snowdrop

When snowflakes whirl and north winds blow

and winter's all around,

The plucky little snowdrop

Comes pushing through the ground.

She spreads her petals undismayed,

Though days are dark and drear,

To tell us shivering mortals

That Spring will soon be here.

Great Possessions & Small Blessings

Nearly 20 years ago, I picked up a copy of a book called Great Possessions, written by Old Order Amish farmer and naturalist David Kline. The book remains one of my most treasured possessions, always an arm's length from where I work. I turn to it for peace in a world too often riddled with strife and sorrow. David's book lifts my spirits and infuses me with hope.

Last year, when I was reading Animal Vegetable Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, who is a friend of David Kline, I realized that David is one of the editor-publishers of the Farming Magazine-People, Land, and Community. I looked for it on newsstands, but to no avail.

A couple of weeks ago, I received a wonderful e-mail from a woman named Emily, who is David's daughter and also works as an editor for Farming Magazine. Emily asked if I would like to write some pieces for them that would inspire children to garden. She mentioned that her young son Noah (also MY son's name) loved the hummingbirds in their garden last summer. So the piece I am illustrating and writing right now, "Small Blessings," is dedicated to her Noah, my Noah, and all the children whose lives will be touched and enriched by a garden and by the small miracles called hummingbirds.

Subscribe to Farming Magazine and you won't be disappointed. They do have articles relevant to farming; calf scours, farm almanac, horse logging, king corn, sustainable farming, Horse Progress days, but they also feature gardening, recipes, history, poetry, nature essays, and more soul food than one could ever digest in an evening of reading.

Subscription rates are $18.00 for one year, or even better, $32.00 for two years. To subscribe, click here or mail your check to:

Farming Magazine

P.O. Box 85

Mt. Hope, Ohio 44660

All blessings to you and yours,

Sharon

The Year of the Magical Re

Woops! What happened to January? I have been chin deep in the nature chapters for my new book, which Workman will release in the fall of 2009. Some days I work outdoors in my nightgown, then I move into the studio and dig into my text. I almost drove to the store the other day still wearing my nightgown.

This is the magical year of "RE." By this, I mean that I am going to rethink, reflect, recycle, rediscover, repurpose, reinvigorate, reinvent, and redo my life in a variety of ways, which I hope to mention during the next few months.

We've discovered the ReStore, an outgrowth of the wonderful Habitat for Humanity, which we love to support. Because of the ReStore we've been able to build a whimsical little laundry room and outfit it with great windows purchased for a fraction of their original cost. Also, we needed to lay a floor and got a bid for a staggering $1,100.00 for a 5' x 6' space. Jeff was able to pick up solid wood flooring for $45.00 and laid it himself. All thanks to the ReStore. Check on line for one in your neighborhood, and remember, when you're thinking of tossing old cabinets, shutters, wood, tubs, sinks, etc., donate them to the ReStore.

Even the laundry basket and hanging light are recycled. 

Large window (below) came from the ReStore.

Recycled Christmas card, from our friend and photographer Lynn Karlin (www.lynnkarlinphoto.com) , in a recycled frame. Photo of clothes pins on a snow covered Maine clothes line.

My good friends Kary and John,  who live in an old cottage nearby, also contributed to the laundry room. We traded two windows we had for a vintage fold-down ironing board cupboard, which they had in their laundry room. Jeff cut the entire cabinet out of their wall, sawed a hole into our thick stucco wall, and installed it here. I love using it then just flipping it back up and into the cupboard.

 
Phew! Now that I've said all this, I'm feeling re-stored.

Blessings,

Sharon

A Peaceable Kingdom

When I was growing up, one of my favorite images was that of the Peaceable Kingdom..."and the lion shall lie down with the lamb," which is what inspired me to do this drawing. I guess my Quaker roots and the paintings of Edward Hicks were my main influence. Now, more than ever, the idea of a peaceable kingdom is always on my mind. What can I do to make this world a better place for the innocent children who are too often harmed by our grown-up religious or ethnic intolerances? Think kindness.

This year I opted out of the traditional holiday tree. Although I adore the scent of balsam or douglas fir, I wanted more simplicity and a tree that would live and produce for us for years to come.

So here is our wonderful espaliered apple tree. This tree has three different varieties of apples, the bottom two limbs are Dorsets, the center two are Gala, and the top two are Fuji, which are all fruits that thrive in this area. The day after Christmas, Jeff and I will plant this sweet tree in our herb courtyard where the thick walls will reflect the sun and help this tree flourish.


May the blessings of the holidays be showered on you and your loved ones,

Sharon

Fire!

The phone rang, and before I said hello, my friend Kary said, "Look out your window. I've got my cat in the kitty carrier and I'm ready to go. Flames are coming up over Terrace Hill." I ran to our front door and saw a line of smoke and flames licking up the ridge about a mile from our house. Fires were raging in Santa Barbara and Montecito, and it looked as though San Luis Obispo would be next.

Jeff and I gathered some boxes and began a short, very short, list of the things we would save if the wind changed and the fire headed our way. Funny, but I found that the only things that REALLY mattered were the very simplest things imaginable.

First, I grabbed a basket of photographs from the chest in front of our sofa. Instead of traditional scrapbooks, I keep the photos out and available to everyone and find that nobody can sit in the living room without pawing through the basket of memories. I'm no exception. I can't imagine losing the years of images of beloved people (and dogs) the basket contains.


Next, I took my Grandmother Lovejoy and Grandmother Clarke's framed recipe from the kitchen wall. They were both famous for their Heavenly Pie, and I feel so lucky to have their recipes written in their hands.



Great, Great Grandmother Mitchell's Pennsylvania sampler, Great Grandmother Baker's Pennsylvania sampler, my old teddy bear Patience and her side-kicks Acorn, Raggle-Taggle (the earless bear given to me by Beth Mather), and Tiny Tim, the fearless bunny followed.






Jeff, ever the practical and dependable, checked business records, computer files, and insurance papers off the list. I searched for my box of family recipes and pulled my orginal art work out of the storage cupboard as I reached for a stack of family letters from the late 1800s.

"No more THINGS," I said. Let's take photos so we can remember everything, but I can't handle any more stuff," I said as I closed a lid and tucked the four flaps inside. 

Within the hour, the 60 mph winds shifted, and the fire that raced down the hillsides did an abrupt turn and began to climb up the ridge. Borate bombers dropped chemical retardants and firemen from throughout the county fanned up the hill and fought it in a hand-to-hand combat style. 

We were lucky, much luckier than those who lost their life histories, but not their lives, in the fires that raged through our parched California landscape. The common refrain we heard was exactly what we said to each other, "as long as our family, friends, and animals are safe, we'll survive." In the end, what really matters are the intangible and immeasurable things in our precious and fragile lives.

Grandmother and Nonie's Award Winning (and delectable) Heavenly Pie

1 1/2 cups sugar
1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar
4 eggs (separated)
3 tablespoons lemon juice
1 teaspoon lemon peel finely grated

1 pint heavy cream


Sift together 1 cup of the sugar and add the cream of tartar. Beat the egg whites until stiffy, but not dry. Then, gradually add the sugar mixture, continuing to beat until thoroughly blended, use to line bottom and sides of a 9 or 10 inch greased pie pan being careful not to spread too close to the rim. Bake in slow oven at 275 degrees for 1 hour, then cool. Beat the egg yolks slightly, then stir in the remaining 1/2 cup of sugar, the lemon juice and peel.
Cook in a double boiler until very thick, about 10 or 15 minutes. Remove and cool. Whip the cream, combine half of it with the lemon and egg mixture and use to fill the shell.

Cover with remaining whipped cream. Chill in refrigerator about 24 hours. Serves 6 to 8.

Holiday blessings,

Sharon

Autumn Harvests

Autumn is my favorite time of the year, though it is both exciting and bittersweet. Bittersweet because we close our old cottage on the island and leave it shuttered and alone 'til spring, but joyful and exciting because we return to our family and the new-old home and gardens where we work from morning 'til nightfall.





Here, in California, my citrus trees, lime, kumquat, meyer lemon, blood orange, navel orange, Kaffir lime, and tangerines are in full scale production, the strawberry tree (Arbutus unedo), blazes with yellow, orange and edible red fruits. My guavas, which I started growing in pots 40 years ago, are drooping under their load of fruit, and even some tomato stragglers are still producing. Luckily, the basil, which hasn't suffered any cold, is flourishing and readily picked for meals.


Time to plant borders of cabbages and kale, clusters of rainbow-stemmed chard, and a few dozen spinach, mache, and arugula. I can't stop thinking of Virgil's words from 70 B.C. "And let no spot of idle earth be found, but cultivate the genius of the ground." I'm trying NOT to let an idle spot be found.

"The prospect of feeding a hungry world has to be answered with smaller, not larger farms," said Charles Wilber, (who grew a Guinness world record setting tomato. Just think, if we all grew a bit of our own food. It makes me feel so great to practice my daily ritual of ranging through our small garden to harvest herbs, fruits, my own saffron!, garlic, shallots-I feel a sense of peace and pleasure that far outstrips our tiny plot of well tended land.



We are settling into the rhythm of our new-old kitchen. Abigail (named for my Grandmother Lovejoy), our beloved 1950 O'Keefe and Merritt, is a double-ovened wonder. She is able to roast a big turkey, bake stuffing and sweet potatoes, and host an array of sauce pots and skillets on her commodious top.



The tall green enamel coffee pot atop Abigail once belonged to my Grandmother. I found the pot and a stack of iron frying pans (of every size), a dutch oven, turkey roasting pan, and so much more when I cleaned out my Mother's garage and uncovered a trove of family treasures stowed since 1954. All the iron was in perfect condition though a bit rusty and crusty. I simply rinsed them thoroughly with clear, hot water, scoured them with sea salt and a scrub brush, rubbed them with olive oil and set them inside a warm oven to be re-seasoned. They are better than any modern product, and I imagine they'll someday be passed on to my granddaughter Sara May who so appreciates family traditions and celebrations.

Blessings to all,

Sharon

Gracie Allen's Recipe for a perfectly cooked roast

Buy a big roast of beef and a small one
Cook them both 'til the little one is burned to a crisp
The big one will be perfect.

Every Kitchen has its own Dance

Last year I was talking to a group of friends about my small kitchen. "I don't know how we'll all cook in there," I said. My friend, poet Sylvia Alcon, answered, "Every kitchen has its own dance!" She is right, every kitchen DOES have its own dance, you just wiggle around, thread through, juggle, side-step, duck, push, slide, and dance in harmony. What results is not only a great meal, but also great laughs, tastes, talk, and, most important of all, memories of those good moments.



Our kitchen in Maine was a complete non-functional disaster site when we moved in. The counters and back splash were covered with cracked, marbled-blue linoleum. Our cupboards were old plywood stained a dark orange brown. One tiny window allowed only a sliver of light into the room. Circles of fluorescent tubing were our lovely chandeliers. An ugly rusted water heater took up an entire corner of the tiny space, and a non-functioning stove arced a bolt of electricity across the room as we switched it on the first time.

It took my patient husband Jeff weeks to pry bar a thick coating of black linoleum glue off the floors and walls. Instead of replacing the old cupboards, we removed the doors, patched screw holes, and painted the walls and shelves delicious colors, an inexpensive and very do-able solution to stoking up the spark of life in a tired space.




We took our time to outfit the kitchen and chose only things we really loved. First, we visited antique shops, auctions, and flea markets in search of lighting, a stove, and equipment. Our local blacksmith, The Scottish Lion, fabricated hardware, hooks, and pulls in the shape of alewives, one of my favorite fish.  At an antique shop in Damariscotta, we found the perfect stove, a 1920's Hotpoint with a great shape and legs as shapely as my Grandmother Clarke's. I named the stove Augustine in her honor (in California, I have Abigail, short and stocky, just like my Grandmother Lovejoy).



Whimsical vintage kitchen towels were turned into curtains, old hanging lights with glass shades replaced the lovely fluorescents, and hefty slabs of soapstone became our new counters, backsplash, and sink, which Jeff installed. Instead of tile or linoleum, we opted for painted floors, which we can re-paint whenever necessary.

Our kitchen is the result of sweat equity, patience, and love. We did it with minimal costs liberally sprinkled with playful ideas and color, lots of bright, joyful color, which I love in every part of my life.  

Yesterday, I received an e-newsletter from one of my favorite places in Maine, Rabelais Bookstore  in Portland. Lining their walls, stacked on the floor, strewn across tables, and on restaurant trolleys, you will find the BEST selection of books for a kitchen lover. Cookbooks, world cuisine books, wine, gastronomic history, organic gardening and more...but back to their most recent newsletter.

I loved this quote, which is apropos of our times.  "Between the pending elections and the chaos on Wall Street, daily life is tumultuous...Cooking at home for our friends and family is the quiet eye of the storm. The crafting of a savory meal from whatever raw ingredients you have access to is remarkably satisfying and a pure pleasure that costs little and gives back so much." Thanks Samantha, beautifully said. Sign up for the Rabelais newsletter to learn about the best new and antique books available.  www.RabelaisBooks.com.

Spend time in your own kitchen, gather 'round your table, chew on food and good conversation and enjoy the simple pleasures of life!

All joys to you, 

Sharon