The Gift of Asparagus

I don’t blame anybody for hating asparagus.  How can you ask someone to eat -- let alone enjoy -- a vegetable whose description often includes such stellar entries as “puke-y green colored”, “mushy”, and “stringy”? Another infamous quality is that this vegetable is usually sloshing out of a can with the tube-like reminiscence of a bundle of you-know-what. My husband's childhood asparagus-at-dinner story included his father's stern encouragement, "Are you a man or a mouse?" Weldon answered with a teary, "I'm a mouse, daddy!" Needless to say, he was let off the hook. I can agree that THAT kind of asparagus is gross. However, real asparagus is another story. Real asparagus is a spring-time treat that is nearer the garden than the canning factory or grocery store. Real asparagus is also prepared in a way that maintains a hint of tender crunch and highlights the unique flavor of this green, purple, or even white vegetable. Below are some growing tips and a tasty recipe that will hopefully redeem asparagus from the icky memories you may have accrued along the way: Steamed Asparagus with Lemon Butter & Herbs

When Wildflowers Bloom

Nothing is quite as special or as fleeting as the spring wildflower blooms on our homestead. Unlike so many other seasonal rhythms this one wears its finite nature proudly on its sleeve. The flowers come once a year and are here and gone in about ten days. Despite this, I find them no less glorious than the leaves of autumn, the garden’s bounty, or the majesty of a particular landscape. In our neck of the woods, this past week was what we like to call “wildflower week”. 

A Gardener's Dream

On Monday I was in my garden. Finally. Spring (or perhaps winter, depending on your perspective) has been a bit reluctant this year.  It wasn't until late last week that the tide seemed to turn and spring established itself. The past few days the temperatures have climbed into the balmy seventies. The fire in our wood stove was abandoned over the weekend. The windows have flung open their eyelids to take in the world and the warmth. Naturally, the plants are responding with countless buds and blooms. These were all the signs I needed -- on Monday I was in my garden.

Demolition Derby: And The Walls Came A Tumbling Down

Nothin' but blue skies

We're coming down the home stretch in our crusade to tear down an older brick house as we salvage building materials for our dream cabin-y cottage. Saturday was another major milestone as the crew (which this time included my husband, brother-in-law, and our good friend along with three of his buddies) finally took apart the frame from rafters to sub-floor. I finished the day with Sheetrock dust in my hair, tiny splinters of framing lumber in my forearms, sore (and stinky) feet, and a killer t-shirt tan. Don't worry, I only did enough sweaty work to earn the ice cream cone for afternoon break...I was otherwise in charge of photo ops, lunch feast, first aid administration, and hydration patrol. As the photo above makes plain, it was a highly successful day.

Spring Break

Our county schools are closed this week and I find myself experiencing "Spring Break" in a whole new light. Though it's been nearly a decade since I was matriculating anywhere, I've recently gone back to school -- as a teacher (of sorts). For the first time in my life I have a "9-to-5" job from which to have such a "Break", call it spring or otherwise. My new state of employment came with no lack of soul-searching. Am I breaking the Homesteaders' Creed by taking a full-time job away from home?