The Promise of Modern Advertising

While I was strolling the laundry aisle over at my local Target this weekend, I discovered that there is a brand of Gain detergent called Joyful Expressions. I kid you not. Now I like the smell of clean laundry as much as the next person, but Joyful Expressions? Really? I can't say for sure, because I haven't tried it, but I think the people over at Gain may be smoking a little crack.

Cut Hay While the Sun Shines

On the last weekend in April, in an unusual warm spell, I cut the front lawn for the first time this season. As is often the case in the early spring, the grass was lush and thick. But my mower did the trick quite nicely. I debated cutting the back lawn, which was also thick and in need of a mowing. But I ultimately opted to play with the boy instead, figuring that I'd get the job done on some upcoming sunny day.

That sunny day never really materialized. And Saturday, after nearly two weeks of steady rain, the mower and I faced off against the back lawn. There are no before pictures because I was so ashamed of how things looked. My backyard had become a pasture, more suited to a couple of goats than a middle-aged suburban mama and her mower. I don't have any goats. So I set forth to conquer the field.

In the thickest section of the pasture, things were touch and go for the mower. I ended up cutting the grass in thin lines, doubling back over the entire lawn so as to more evenly chop the hay and keep the motor on my mower from being overwhelmed. It usually takes me less than 30 minutes to cut the back lawn. But Saturday's cutting was an hour-long affair. For most of it, I was in fear that my mower would just give up the ghost.

As a consequence, I am prepared to make this vow: Never again will I miss a sunny-day opportunity to cut the grass. The photo below is an after picture:
Please distract your attention from the giant piles of fresh cut grass by admiring the blooms on the dwarf apple trees in the back.

Gratuitous picture of the lovely dogwood in the backyard:
And our old friend, Mr. Tree:
The backyard is shaping up for yet another hanging around outside season. I can't wait.

Everyday Mama

I lead a strange double life. Most of the time, I am the on-duty mama, the only parent in my household, and I am responsible for taking care of my son. If I don't get it done, it doesn't happen. Then, on a Saturday morning twice a month, my son leaves with my ex and there is no child in the house. Though I know that I need the occasional break, I sometimes don't recognize my life in this in-between-zone. I've gone from being the parent who always has a child around to the parent of an absent child, a Mama with no immediate parenting chore to complete. It's a strange pattern and I don't reckon that I will ever get completely used to it.

He'll be home early this afternoon so we can share some time on Mother's Day. We've planned to plant some flowerpots together and maybe go for a walk in the woods. Tonight, he'll be tucked in his bed as usual. And I will be immensely grateful for the blessing that is my boy. In the nine years I've been a parent and especially the three years that I've been a Mama on my own, I've come to realize that it's the little moments that build a life.

And just one day, even Mother's Day, doesn't compare much with a lifetime. Though I enjoy a celebration as much as the next person, for me the happiness of motherhood is in the very ordinary state of daily life with my child. It's in the sound of his laughter. It's in the way we share stories about Tiger and Lucy. It's in the suppers we eat together, in a lazy Saturday morning spent hanging out, in the books I read to him at night, our laughter as we brush our teeth side-by-side, the afternoon bike rides we take, the pleasure I get when we walk through the garden together, in the way my heart swells with love when he smiles and says, "hi, Mama," when I see him at the end of each school day. It's in the everything and the nothing. It just is.

My baby. My child. My boy. Without a doubt, the daily presence of my son is the best gift I ever received from the universe. I love him with all my heart, so fully and so completely that I can't even imagine how it would be if he was not in this world by my side. And so that's what Mother's Day means to me. Being JT's Mama, everyday.

This week in supper

This week's secret ingredient is something that has become a staple in my home: pesto. On Monday, I made tomato-pesto pizza for supper and served it with a green salad with buttermilk dressing.
On Tuesday, the pesto was called into service for a grilled portobello mushroom with red pepper and provolone. I served that with couscous, and garlic spinach.
On Thursday, I left the pesto playbook behind and made butter & garlic noodles, a steamed artichoke, and a pecan & goat cheese green salad from Simply Food, a recipe that I have been making at least once a week since I first discovered it.
It seems that my creative streak in the kitchen is still going strong.

Real Life Conversations with JT: Subliminal Message edition

The backstory:. With the arrival of spring, JT has grown accustomed to a few after-school bike rides each week. But not this week, which has been rainy and wet. When the sun came out around 6:00 pm last night, he shot outside to play. Within a few minutes, he came inside and circled around me.

JT: Mama, can I ask you a question?

Mama: Sure.

JT: When do you think we'll be able to go bike riding again?

Mama (a woman who can take a hint): Would you like to go for a bike ride right now?

JT (restraining his enthusiasm, so as to convince me that this was all my idea in the first place): Yes.

And so we took a ride in the fading twilight and admired everyone's very green gardens. And just in case I haven't said it enough: I highly recommend that everyone go out and get themselves a 9 year old boy.

Tulip Wednesday

Last fall, JT and I planted a couple dozen tulip bulbs in the front yard. New bulbs around my place are always tricky because you have to account for the clever squirrels, who eagerly search for fresh produce of that variety. We're past tulip season around here and I had given up hope that the bulbs would produce. But last week, I realized that my tulip luck had not run out.
Happily, a few tulips managed to escape the cunning squirrels. The flowers should open by next week and the rest of the flower bed, filled with hostas, azaleas, and a rose of Sharon, is prepared to provide a lush background for the flowers.

Gardening 101: Time to Plant

You've developed a plan, you've prepared the site of your garden, you've planted the early seeds. Now it's time to plant the rest of your garden. For me, that's tomatoes, bell peppers, some herbs, a fava bean plant, the various squash seeds I chose for the year, some cosmos flowers and zinnias. Lots and lots of zinnias.

I usually aim to get my planting completed by early May, once the danger of a frost has passed. This year, I went a bit earlier and planted the rest of my garden on the last weekend of April. We had a spot of unusual warmth with temps north of 90 degrees that weekend and I took it as a sign and planted. The basic layout had already been organized and I can't stress enough the importance of having a layout plan. Don't overcrowd the space. The tiny tomato that measures just an inch right now will grow to be nearly 3 feet tall, with spreading branches. If you want tomatoes, it will want space.

At the garden shop, you should choose healthy-looking plants.....no dead leaves, no suspicious spots, nothing dried out. If the plants look crummy, take your business elsewhere. Be judicious about how much you can plant. You may want 6 types of tomatoes, but if the plants are sold in sets of 6, that's either 36 plants in your garden OR the purposive wasting of plants. So pick a few (or, better yet, go shopping with a fellow gardener and split the plants).

Once you get the plants home, it's time to plant. Seedlings can stay outside for a day or two before you plant, but not much more than that. Keep them well-watered if you're waiting to plant. In terms of the garden plot itself, the soil shouldn't be too wet, but it should be moist. I count my plants and dig all my holes and prepare my furrows before I put anything in the ground; that way I can be sure that there is a place for everything. That's oregano in the picture below.
And here's a close-up of a tomato plant:
I plant mini pumpkins and squash in a separate row located just to the east of my dwarf fruit trees. Here's squash alley:
JT helped put those seeds in the hills (I like to pretend that he will also be willing to eat the produce of his efforts):
A note on mint: plant it in a separate, large pot. Keep it well away from the rest of your garden. Mint grows mighty quickly and will take root in your garden with a vengeance. The smell is lovely and a few mint leaves in some iced tea or lemonade is heavenly, but the stuff will commence to take over your entire garden if you let it. Don't fall victim to its wily ways.

The week after planting, I check to make sure the new plants are getting the water they need (about an inch of rain every 4 days or so....3 days if temps are warmer). I placed an old garden tile around a few of the more vulnerable looking plants but that won't last for too long. Gardens demand survival of the fittest. Next weekend, I will weed and add some organic fertilizer that I picked up at the garden shop. I will also set out tomato cages. I call this the waiting season and I check my garden nearly every day, looking for any sign that a new plant has taken root and started growing.
Though it doesn't look like much right now, it won't be long before I have flowers for my vases and a freshly-picked tomato for my supper.

Starting Off on the Right Foot

From the moment I stepped out of bed last Monday morning, I was behind. This is often the case as the end of the school year draws near, though I have yet to make my peace with this reality. So it was that last week, for the first time all year long, JT did not have any homemade desserts for his lunchbox. I scrambled to make up for my errant mothering. On Monday, I gave him a $2 to buy dessert in the school cafeteria, a treat he very much enjoys. On Tuesday, I talked him into believing that graham crackers were dessert. On Wednesday, I slipped him a piece of chocolate after I read a chapter of Farmer Boy to his class. For Thursday and Friday, I packed fresh strawberries and some chocolate for dipping in his lunchbox. In this way, I managed to stay just a half step ahead of Child Protective Services in the state of New Jersey.

This week, I was determined to start on better footing. Yesterday, I baked peanut butter cookies and triple chocolate brownies for lunchbox desserts.
I will share some of the largesse with my 15 A.P. students who will take their test today. Science has yet to weigh in, but I'm pretty sure that the sight of a homemade cookie on your desk helps to clear up any residual confusion about federalism, selective incorporation, and the role of interest groups and political parties in American politics.

If not, they will at least know how much I care. And for now, that's plenty good enough.

Real Life Conversations with JT: Patience is a Virtue edition

The backstory: When I was a kid, my father was the parent assigned wake up duty and, as I recollect, most mornings he would burst into my bedroom with a great deal of enthusiasm. I did not enjoy this. I can vividly recall one cold morning that he brought me a cup of hot cocoa and then placed the steaming mug on the other side of the room, thus forcing me to get up. I was not amused. Most mornings when I go to wake up the boy it's 7 am and I have been awake (and consuming coffee) for the past hour and a half. So it would be fair to say that I'm fully awake. I usually climb the stairs calling his name and generally serving as an annoying mama. And so it was on Thursday morning that I climbed the stairs to find the entire boy buried under the quilt on his bed.

Mama: Wakey-wakey, Taylor McBakey.

The lump in the bed is silent.

Mama: It's time to get up sleepy head.

Continued silence.

Mama: Up, up, up.

Finally, he speaks, in a voice that implied he was the grown up and I was the tiresome overly enthusiastic child in the household.

JT: I have a very small patience for you this morning, Mama.

Noted.

May 1st: Hosta-rific

It's the 1st of the month and that means hostas. This month, I have lots of them to show off.

The patch regularly featured here on the 1st is filling in quite nicely.
This patch is the largest in my yard. But it is just one of six hosta patches to be found in my yard. Here is another one, by the steps to the back deck:
And this one, at the edge of the garden:
And thanks to the transplants I received from my friend Jaxter, there's this patch, in the back by the grape arbor:
And this one in the side yard to the west of the house:
And this one in the front yard, facing east.
It may be that I have a problem. I prefer to think that it's just that my hosta bases are covered.