Happy Summer!

Hello zucchini, tomatoes, eggplant, and pepeprs. Hello summer!

 Cucumbers are coming.

Beans are growing.

The romas are here. Can't wait for fresh sauce.

And breakfast tacos.

I have zucchini on the brain:
stuffed zucchini
zucchini lasagna
zucchini bread
zucchini lakes
zucchini tortilla espanola.

What are you doing with all your zucchini?

A baby bird fell out of a tree: on learning to fly

 We've become familiar with our feathered neighbors this spring: the hummingbirds who are always vying for ownership of the feeder, the little brown birds who fly around in a pair making high-pitched cheeping sounds, and the scrub jay family who are nesting in the tree on the west side of the yard, near the fence.

I was pottering in the garden yesterday afternoon when I noticed something tiny and fluffy flapping and cheeping on the ground in the fallen leaves near the fence. It was a baby scrub jay, fallen from the nest. One of the parents was hopping around near it, looking concerned. The little chick can't fly yet.

We didn't know what to do. They looked like a family in crisis, a nestling on the ground and the nest so high up. That little bird just a ball of dandelion fluff. I didn't believe it would last the night.

We did some research and contacted some wildlife rescue people. They said to leave the bird where it is, that it is a fledgling and often they spend a few days on the ground before they learn to fly. The parents will watch over it and feed it, and they will hear the baby call.

We kept an eye on it yesterday, concerned because we didn't see the parents around much. We kept the cats inside and hoped a raccoon wouldn't find it. I am so tender-hearted, even worse than usual these days, and that scared little chicky made me so sad. It looked so vulnerable, sitting on the ground in its tender baby fluff, about to spend its first night out of the nest.

I keep thinking of Pema Chodron's passage about the baby bird:

...Another image for maitri or loving-kindness is that of a mother bird who protects and cares for her young until they are strong enough to fly away. People sometimes ask, "Who am I in this image--the mother or the chicks?" The answer is we're both: both the loving mother and those ugly little chicks. It's easy to identify with the babies--blind, raw, and desperate for attention. We are a poignant mixture of something that isn't all that beautiful and yet is dearly loved. 

I feel like that baby bird a lot, since becoming a mother: vulnerable, uncertain, and completely ill-equipped for life outside the nest . Sometimes I lose the mother bird part of me, and all I feel inside are those hungry chicks, cheeping cheeping. Now I have to take care of my own inner baby bird, and my outer baby bird who always needs physical and emotional caretaking. (And my husband's baby bird, who I love as much as my own.)

But I can see what that baby scrub jay outside in my back yard can't: the parents are there, watching out, and so am I, a benevolent gardener. This is what's supposed to happen. This happens to all baby birds learning to fly: they spend some cold nights on the ground. It's lonely and painful, but a part of the process. This bird is lucky it fell on our side of the fence, and not the neighbors' side where the pit bull lives. Its feather will grow in and it will learn to fly. 

Surprisingly Delicious Use-Up-All-The-Zucchini Spaghetti

It is the beginning of June. Already we have a glut of zucchini. I harvested these from our Eight-Ball zucchini plant over the last couple of days, and there's a lot more coming. I am always on the lookout for zucchini recipes.

This recipe I picked up on my travels in Sorrento, Italy. I am not a huge zucchini lover, and when we made it in my cooking class at Mami Camilla's, I was doubtful I would like it much. But there's magic in Italian cooking. This recipe is so simple: zucchini, olive oil, parmesan, basil, salt, pepper, but the product is much more than the sum of its parts. Cooking the zucchini down until it is a soft, saucy mush brings out the natural buttery, nuttiness of the squash. Good parmesan, pecorino, and basil elevate this dish to a summer favorite. And, best of all, it is a fantastic answer to the gardener's dilemma of, "What to do with all that squash?" This sauce is best with fresh pasta, but dried will do.

Surprisingly Delicious Use-Up-All-The-Zucchini Spaghetti

6-7 medium zucchini, sliced in thin coins
a fearless pour of good olive oil
salt and black pepper, be generous
a large handful grated parmesan reggiano
a smaller handful grated pecorino romano
a small bunch basil leaves, chopped or sliced
1 pound spaghetti

Put a large pot of water on to boil.
Put a saute pan on medium heat, and add a good pour of olive oil. You want to cover the bottom of the pan, probably half a cup or so.
Slice the zucchini into thin rounds and add to the hot oil. Salt generously so the water will come out and evaporate off. Fry the zucchini until soft and lightly browned, about 20 minutes.
When the water is boiling, salt the water generously, add the pasta and follow the package instructions.
While things are cooking, grate the cheeses and chop the basil.
When the spaghetti is al dente, reserve a mug full of pasta water, then drain.
Add the spaghetti, cheese, and basil to the saute pan with the zucchini. Toss well. Add pasta water to create a creamy sauce. Salt and pepper to taste.


Buon appetito! 

Linked to: From the Farm Blog Hop, Independence Days Challenge, Tuned-In Tuesday Blog Hop

What's happening in the garden in June?

 

 The first tomatoes are ripening. 

 

 The coreopsis is blooming.

 The tomatoes have already overgrown their cages.

 We're eating little eight-ball zucchini squash. So far we're keeping up.

How I'm Protecting Basil from Slugs without Chemicals

We love our basil, strawberries, and other tender, green, leafy things. So do the slugs and snails! I am having good luck with the copper tape you can buy at the nursery in the pest control section: just wrap it around the flower pot so no slimy critters can cross. I think the tape cost about $7 for 15 feet, so that will get costly if you have large pots to line.

So, I looked in the plumbing secion. I wanted something copper and round to place around the stem of my plants, and I found copper plumber's tape, which costs $3 for 10 feet on amazon, and you use much less.

I just cut off a piece about 6 inches long, fashioned it into a circle, tied it together with garden twine, and set it on the soil around the base of my plant.

We'll see how this works over the season, but I feel clever and hopeful.

How do you protect your garden from slimy pests?

What's happening in the garden in May?

We are anticipating a bumper crop this year. The garden is growing and looking healthy. We do have a slug problem, I just need to go on some midnight slug hunting trips. Come by for a meal or some tomatoes.

Cherokee purple, Tye Dye, and a zucchini plant are all setting fruit in barrel number one.

This is the Eight-Ball zucchini. I pulled out the roma tomato that was in this barrel, and now it is taking over. We'll probably be harvesting the first zucchini in 2 weeks or so. I should really learn how to cook the squash blossoms, because aren't those everyone's favorite part of the squash season?

What's happening in the garden?

It's March, I know. A little early for tomatoes, even in California. But it's spring now! And the weather is so fair. Today I did some work in the garden.

Considering the good news for Monsanto this week, I'm thinking that the more food we can eat from our back yard, the better. I'd like to get four more wine barrels so that I can plant beans and peppers.

Here we have the first tomato vines. Cherokee purple, Tye Dye, and San Marzano. These three are planted with some aspirin tabs, a crushed egg shell, a handful of tomato fertilizer, and some root fungi stuff.

Next is Brandywine Yellow, San Francisco Fog, and Early Girl. I planted the San Francisco Fog on top of a fish head left over from dinner. It must be a carniverous plant because it's already growing like crazy.

The pepper on the left is a Cute Stuff Red, and on the right is a Fresno Chile. The flowers are ranunculus and anemone.

A new season

We had one of those summers where the babe took sick, the crops wouldn't grow, and my milk nearly dried up. Very Grapes of Wrath, I thought to myself all summer long. A very humbling, human experience. One of those seasons that takes a lot, but ultimately gives back a lot.

Growing tomatoes here, in California, is effortless. I stick them in the ground or in a big container, water occasionally, feed occasionally, don't overthink, and they they grow like weeds and there are more tomatoes than I can keep up with all summer long. Early Girl and Cherokee Purple are my favorites. The Brandywine yellow variety. Not this year. Nothing wanted to grow. The babe was in the hospital, and when I was there I fretted about him. When I came home for a respite and a shower, I fretted about the stunted tomatoes. I started gardening 5 years ago after a terrible breakup. I've learned a lot and the garden has given a lot of pleasure and satisfaction. But this year, the failed garden was just another source of pain, discontent, and powerlessness.

So something really opened up inside me last weekend when we pulled out the old tomato plants, gave the perennials a haircut, amended the soil, and planted lettuces, radishes, more peas, and carrots. We've already eaten a lot of kale from the garden and a lot of snap peas. See how tall those pea plants are? I repurpose some tomato cages to hold them up.

And this morning we woke up to sprouts! Leetle tiny radish sprouts, all growing and trying and bursting forth. I get a little excited.

I'm relieved. Hopeful. With my birthday and Thanksgiving coming so soon, and then the new year, it feels like we're getting a fresh start. Thank you little sprouts. We needed that.