What's Springing Up Now

After years of gardening and micro-farming, you'd think we would be desensitized to the debut of new buds and veggies each spring, but I tell ya it gets us every single time. Each year when our first artichoke pokes up its head, we cheer. When we uncover the red of a strawberry hiding beneath the plant's leaves, we get giddy (which, lately, is quickly squashed when we find that the chickens have eaten the berries...). The most fun of all is seeing growth we've never seen before—like the emergence of almond fruits on our young tree. Here's a springtastic look at what's going on at our house right now:

So many Meyer lemons. And a mockingbird nest in the tree. Watching Papa bird ferry twigs over all week has been my favorite break from writing marketing copy.

We've been eating a lot of artichokes. There are dozens in the front yard right now and we just can't keep up. Mr. W decided today that we need to make spinach-artichoke dip with them, so that's on the dinner list this week.

Buddha-guarded basil tastes extra good.

A friend kept bringing me chard from her garden because she had so much. Then Mr. W decided to plant some and we have such an abundance I'll probably start giving it away soon.

One of our first almond fruits! Woo hoo!

Sweet onions mixed with a couple marigolds to try to keep the bad bugs away.

A half-eaten strawberry. It would have been our first one of the season but someone else got to it first.

Buds breaking on one of Mr. W's many grapevines.

Purple broccoli. We tried to eat a fair amount but it goes to flower so quickly, it's hard to keep up.

Funkytown purple broccoli. I have no idea what happened here but it looks like a caterpillar took over the plant.

These suckers had been in their box for months but they still turned out ok and tasted quite good with a little sea salt, olive oil, and rosemary.

New plum tree (we think...it was a freebie from Mr. W's dad).

My sweet little cactus flower that bloomed and fizzled out in 3 days. So pretty while it lasted.

Baby tomato plant that I so badly want to grow and start gracing us with the fixins for Caprese salads.

Each season is a delight and I'm hopeful that we'll have more time to devote to the garden-farm (farden? farmden? garm?) now that our major renovation projects are winding down.

Wait, what am I saying? The construction around this place never stops. In fact, just this weekend we started building a new fence in the side yard because those feathered little wienerbeaks Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte, and Samantha kept breaking out of the "fence" we had. Yes, the quotation marks are more than necessary because the "fence" consisted of one of the closet doors we ripped out of our bedroom + a piece of the previous fence propped up by 4x4s and a metal pipe + a scroll of chicken wire, under which the girls kept escaping. It was a sad, sad yard barrier.

 

Naughty, naughty sneaker-outers.

The new fence should be a heck of a lot prettier than the ramshackle one we had, and will hopefully do a far better job of keeping the chickens where they belong. You know, in the planter boxes, eating all of our strawberries...

Sleeping Buds Are Wide Awake Over Here

While many of my Midwestern and East Coast friends have been freezing their tooshies off, buried in ice and snow (hi, Nilsa) I've been basking in warm sun, trying to keep my plants somewhat hydrated during California's worst drought in decades. Although I did get buried in an avalanche of ad copywriting work this week, so I can relate to the feeling of being trapped in your house by a terrifying vortex...

The strange and sad byproduct of our drought and ridiculously high temps is that most of the trees around town think it's time to wake up and start celebrating spring. I first noticed bursting blooms several weeks ago—the trees in town were completely covered. It's a really strange sight to see so early in the year, and made me worry about the state of everything come summer and fall. I'm sure our fire danger will be pretty darn high this year.

But even though it seems wrong for so many flowers to be stretching their arms and opening their sleepy eyes, it sure is getting pretty around the yard...

I think this is a peach tree. We'll probably find out sooner than later...

I thought this was an apple tree but I'm not sure whether apple trees flower in the spring. Clearly, I have a long way to go before I can call myself a real farmer.

These girls have popped up two years in a row—cute little volunteers. I had to look them up because I didn't know what they were. Spring snowflakes. Adorable.

In December, we got hit by a pretty bad frost that wiped out all new growth on the Meyer lemon tree. It's just starting to recover and I couldn't be more excited. Mr. W and I have been drinking warm lemon water every morning as part of our new 2014 routine.

The bees are pretty psyched to have so many flowers on the rosemary bush.

I had to get a new camera in the fall (the other got cupcake icing in it during the move...) and for the life of me I can't get the macro feature to focus. Anyway, the lavender has begun to bloom along with all the others and I hope it comes in strong so I can make relaxing sachets with it later in the year.

The calla lilies are lookin' good and kind of making me anxious for Easter.

The roses still look a little haggard from the frost, but they're working hard to detract attention from all the weeds speckling the front yard.

In spite of the drought and untimely spring activity, the Buddha is still smiling. “Three things cannot be long hidden," he says, "the sun, the moon, and the truth.”

Springaling

I know Spring doesn't officially start for another few weeks, but when I looked out my bedroom window this week and saw pretty pink flowers popping on our peach (apricot?) tree, I felt like the season had already arrived.

There are other signs popping up around the yard, despite the fact that several of the trees are still bald. The fig tree is making an effort (this is a bad shot, but there's a little baby leaf coming from the branch in the foreground):

And the carrots are starting to work their way up out of the soil, even though they're not yet orange.

I wish the beets would catch up. I think last year I got only two beets from whatever we planted. And I can't quite remember when I picked them. But they were tasty with some goat cheese and honey.

Sadly, the broccoli got some sort of bugs. Aphids, maybe? So I had to lop off the stalks. I suppose I could cut the few little florets that have grown, but it seems sort of sad. Also sad that this plague supports my dad's disdain for broccoli—because it's a "bug" vegetable. I guess he's right...

On the upside, the lettuce is rockin'. I've had several salads made with backyard leaves. I do love to grocery shop right outside my back door. I can't wait until there are lots of crops (and eggs!) to be collected when we live in Santa Ynez permanently.

The same day I took all these pictures, I was passing by the sliding glass door of our house when a moving shape caught my eye. A coyote had made his way into our backyard. I scrambled to get the camera, and he crawled under the fence and into our neighbor's yard.

He's the fourth coyote I've seen around town since Christmas. One of my shaman friends (yes, I have more than one shaman friend, which I think is pretty damn cool) says coyotes represent trickster energy. They flip things around and rile things up. I watched this one go to the lawn area and roll around just like a domestic dog.

I couldn't help myself—I walked to the top tier of our garden and peered over the fence at the coyote. He looked up at me and I asked him what he was doing back there. He stared. I waved my arms up in the air to make myself look big and menacing. Then he got up and started walking in the direction of my fence.

Having recently watched a coyote climb over a 5 foot fence, I ran like the wind down the stairs and back to the safety of my dining room. I don't think my heart stopped pounding for about twenty minutes. I'm hoping he doesn't decide to try to come through our screen door and make a meal of my cats!