They're HERE!!

COUNTERS!!! 

Beautiful, incredible, glorious COUNTERS!!

Oh my. Oh lovely. You really can't understand what it's like to be without counters until you ARE without counters for almost a month. Nowhere to PUT STUFF, man. You gotta have someplace to put stuff. And now I do. 

We ended up going with bluestone-- locally sourced and milled-- and I couldn't be happier with the decision. It fits, y'know? It jives. Though it looks practically black in these photos, in real life it's pretty close to the floor color-- sort of a deep moody blue-gray. 
The hardware has also been put into place-- and lemme tell you, it's amazing what a difference that makes. Funny. We ended up going with these bin pulls and these simple handles, from Amazon. They are solid brass, and, at $2.95 each, I thought that was a terrific deal. (Restoration Hardware versions run $14 each.) But while the pulls and handles were terrific, hefty and polished and nice, the screws kept snapping, snapping, snapping. So we ended up swapping most of them for solid brass screws... caveat emptor, as they say. 

Whew. We are down to the very last things here, people! Obviously tiling the whole wall above the sink with subway tile will be a big job-- and that tile is going to continue along the little half-wall behind the stove, which you can see here:

...to make a backsplash. Then the wall above the sink is going to get chunky walnut-stained open shelving. I need to paint the toe kicks. I need to cut and nail our baseboards and our door frame back into place, and caulk and paint. There are two lights above the peninsula we haven't installed yet. And, of course we need to put our appliances in place and finally put our house back together. WOO! We're that close. Still really far away, but the daunting stuff is behind us. 
Now, ahem, if you'll excuse me, I have a big whopping party to host in 28 hours. And some cleaning must be done.
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Garden scenes, early June

I took these last night, right after the first of what turned out to be three downpours. It's been a good spring, but the last few weeks were dry, dry, dry. We needed those downpours. 
Some things always do better than others. This year, the tomatoes are charging along while the broccoli and, mysteriously, the potatoes grow kinda feebly. Feebly for potatoes, at least. This is the best potato bed, above (I planted them in my raised beds this year); the others are sprouting really unevenly, which is strange. Ah well, the year is still young.

In the "salad garden" the kale and chard are doing really well, and the beans, cucumbers, and melons (Sweet Granite, something I've never grown before) are germinating. I definitely stretched the definition of salad garden this year, but I'm going to have to, periodically, to keep on with crop rotation and all. 

This little circular garden is really a joy for me. There's something about the geography of it-- the tall Syringa on the right, and the tall hickory on the left, and the currants just beyond, and the way all the flowers I planted last year have filled in around everything so obligingly (once I got the %$#* bishop's weed outta there). There's something about the way it leads to the garden-- to dinner-- every night, starting this time of year. It adds a level of joy to my walk to the garden-- almost, a level of occasion-- which is really lovely. It's an extra place to stop and wonder, a reminder of the glory of this place and this time and our work here. 

Moving on. Ahem. This has definitely been the Year of the Shrub. Two weeks ago, I think I planted twelve things in one day. BIG things. First there were the tartarian dogwoods, then I noticed one of my orchard trees hadn't survived the winter (after three good years! BOO!) so I had to replace it. And while I was in the business of replacing a cherry tree, why not buy an apricot tree, too? On sale? Self-pollinating? For the far corner of the vegetable garden? Why not? And why not also buy two hydrangeas, a butterfly bush, three chokeberries? 
The same day I was planning to plant the hydrangeas, apricot, cherry, and butterfly bush, my neighbor came over with two Sargent crabapples and two redbuds-- leftovers from his Arbor Day Foundation free trees. Thus I added to my agenda planting two redbuds, and moving two walnut trees to plant the crabs. 
I think I slept well that night. Moving on...

Chard.

The homestead. Chickens in pen on right. Del is the reddish smudge just in front of the garage. Orchard behind the garage. Garden in foreground.  

"Cheddar" pinks, bought new last year. Why on earth do they call them cheddar pinks? I have no idea, but they are gorgeous.

Meanwhile, along the front side of the garden, the peonies I've planted at every post and the salvia I've been planting between them is doing splendidly. The peonies were mostly here; some came from neighbors. The salvia I started buying our first year, I think, inspired by the gallon-size plants I found on clearance, in July, at Lowe's, for $5 each. I cut each $5 plant into two or three pieces before I planted them, and now, three years later, the salvia is just taking over. Muscling its way out into the grass and dandelions, staking its claim. I had no idea salvia would do exactly what I was asking it to do-- thrive on neglect, do well without being weeded, bloom all summer long. Lucky one, that.

I'll end with this picture of the loveliest little chamomile cultivar-- not sure which one, exactly, but I know I bought two of them last year and they are the most obliging things. 
It's a good season to be here. What did I ever do in Binghamton, before I had endless projects like all these to fill my time? That feels like many many years ago. A past life. This one's a lot richer.
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There and back again

We went there, and we came back. Our favorite restaurant in town was closed (they had a fire literally two days before our trip!) but we had a great meal anyway, Jason Isbell only played nine songs, but they were his nine best songs and we had a great time anyway. In the end, it was just nice not having to weed anything, or clean anything, or paint anything for two days. It was nice being by big water (oooh, those Finger Lakes) and nice soaking up the perfect, perfect weather. Nice being on vacation. 
Now, roll on, party prep and cleaning, cleaning, cleaning. Woo hoo...
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Checking in

Sorry to disappear on everyone there for a week and a half. I've been feeling the big, mega, furry, crazy-eyed CRUNCH to get things done (both inside and out) for our open house thingy we do every year, which is next Saturday. June 7th. Eight days. Eight days, and thar she blows:

Oh my. I am having to back off my hopes just a bit. The counters will be in, and that is so big. Living without counters is HARD. The sink is plumbed, and hopefully the dishwasher will slide itself into place, in the eleventh hour, once the counters are in place. Things that are iffy: hardware, baseboards, ceiling paint. Things that won't be done yet: the white subway tile backsplash, and the open shelves that live on them. 
But, things that are certain: good food and drink, friends and family, laughter.
And this all just means we'll have to have ANOTHER party, maybe in, I dunno, August, when the kitchen is finally officially completely DONE. Right? Right.
Moving on, then.

We are eating off the land again, and that feels fantastic. Incredibly, we still have some of last year's frozen broccoli in the freezer, and we ate the last block of frozen beet greens (thawed, of course, with roasted red peppers and walnuts and raisins and capers, and drowned in mozzarella cheese!) for dinner last night. But in between, there have been SALADS. Spinach salad with hardboiled eggs, and shredded kale salad with apples and raisins and feta. Asparagus stir-fry, too. The tomatoes are in and kicking butt, the beans and squash and cucumbers and melons (!) are planted, the potatoes are charging forth. It's that season. Such a good season. 
I'll try to check in here next week, even in the midst of the madness. OH, and did I mention? We're going away for Sunday/Monday to see Jason Isbell again? Just saw him in February, seeing him again now, with Ray LaMontagne. Not sure if you've heard of him, or if he'd be your cup of tea, but if you like songwriting, and loneliness, and Alabama, give him a try. We're a little bit in love.
Anyway. Back Tuesday, probably, with a report. Wheee!
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Prettification, in full swing

Last fall, I planted yellow tulips. It seemed the thing to do. Browsing over the offerings (I think I was at Agway) I thought of how the yellow would look against the teal-painted house, and I was certain it was a good decision.
Last week, strolling past and looking them over (performing the thorough meandering flower garden assessment that happens whenever my mother and I are together between April and October) Mom reminded me that I've loved yellow tulips for a long time. I don't really remember, but of course I trust her. 

I guess I've loved yellow tulips a long time. I may even have painted our house teal, subconsciously imagining this sight.

I can't even tell you how happy they make me. So simple, and so lovely. Siiigh.
This is the time of year when I have a hard time not making every trip outside, and every trip to Frog Pond or Lowe's or Home Depot, about my flower garden. It only lasts a month, six weeks maybe, but for at least the whole of May all I want to do is watch new things unfolding, and wonder at the pace of progress, and bring home pots of pretty leafy things to fill in the (still plentiful) gaps. Just got home from Lowe's, in fact, with a few sticks of lumber for one last tomato trellis, a few cans of bug spray, and... $50 in clearance perennials, weed block fabric, landscape pins, and "river pebbles" decorative stone for an impulse extra-prettification project I couldn't avoid. 
Prettification is happening in all corners, at all hours. Over the weekend I moved 60 square feet of sod to widen and plant this bed here, on the side of the garage. 
I know it looks like sloppy, floppy, weedy hell, but bear with me. 

There are three tartarian dogwoods in amongst the mess. I have ogled these suckers for years, and pondered over whether they would be right for this spot, and finally decided they would be, and then finally also decided to NOT go the budget route and try to find 10 dogwood TWIGS for $20 or something ridiculous (I am tired of planting twigs. I have planted a lot of twigs here that have died. DONE WITH TWIGS.) and so I screwed up my courage and spent $150 on three freaking shrubs. Sting. But. Look at these fat gorgeous suckers. 

Woooeeee. In around there are irises, and in the front I set in a row of sedum, which I made from some of the big momma sedums lurking around the edges of this place. Once everything recovers and starts filling in, it should look right purty. 
Gardening is just the best thing. Right now I know I should probably better be installing baseboards or spackling or painting the rest of the kitchen (ORDERED COUNTER TOPS TODAY!) but I am not. I am buying pots of pretty things and planting them. It is way more fun than caulking or painting or spackling, and I don't care who knows it. 
It is May, after all.
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A Saturday hike

We had Patrick for both days this weekend. The next time that happens will be-- Lord willing and the creeks don't rise-- June 14th, so we all (Del and Pete and I included) made the most of it. There was a Saturday hike and Sunday morning pancakes and Sunday afternoon lawn-loafing with beer. Mexican food Saturday night. Just lovely. Just right.

We did our usual, our favorite. The Farm Loop. The most perfectest trail for humans and canine alike: a good hoofy 1.5 mile steep HILL, a couple of gorgeous old farms, one muddy farm pond full of tadpoles, pretty woods (we saw a tanager) and no one else for miles. Off-leash time for Del. Just right.
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No turning back

There's no turning back now. We're drowning in asparagus, drowning in baby greens, drowning in pretty green shoots in the flower bed, drowning in weeds. 
I believe we have had our last frost.
While the guys installed the cabinets on Wednesday, my mom and I headed to Frog Pond to buy flowers and have girl time, and-- sure sign of optimism-- I bought my tomato and pepper seedlings. They're not in yet, they won't be in yet for another week, but yesterday evening I went out and set up the trellis framing where they will live, and thought about the high-summer season ahead. The humid and the crazy and the sticky and the canning-- oh, it's all ahead.
And I thought about last year, walking around in my new red baseball cap as a hummingbird followed me, trying repeatedly to pollinate my head. I remembered last year.

The weeds in the circle garden, where now there are pretty flowers all around. The things that hadn't been planted yet, the stories that hadn't been started yet. The stories always yet to come. Oh, it's a good season, and a good time to be living. 
And, I won't lie-- I'm a little more excited and eager for it all, the canning especially-- knowing what a gloriously efficient and durable kitchen I will have in which to practice my craft. The countertop people are coming to measure today....

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