Ikebananas

Last week I took an Ikebana workshop with my husband and mother-in-law through our county park system. Ikebana is a Japanese art of flower arrangement. I still couldn't tell you much about it, but Wikipedia does a great job. 

It was held at our favorite park, Deep Cut Gardens, and I think I signed up for it because I was hoping it would take place in their magical greenhouse (it wasn't). But I find floral arrangements to be one of the great pleasures of life, along with watching a baby nap, sheet cake that's better than it needs to be, falling asleep on the couch, and The Met. Plus, I'm always looking to add to my bag o' tricks.

Once we arrived, I was excited to learn a different approach to flower arrangement that uses materials, shapes, and proportions uncommon to the Western style. All my arrangements tend to look the same. I do a lot of round stuff with one kind of flower. Any time I diverge from that, it gets awkward. 

We each made an arrangement, and mine was OK. To be honest, I'm not sure I know good or bad yet, it's so foreign to my eye. I'm not a natural minimalist, and I didn't think my materials vibed together all that well. I wasn't sure if I'd do it again by the book, but I was inspired to try again with plant materials from our yard.

So today, after Mother's Day brunch, the babe was napping, the mister was mowing the lawn, and Pip and were looking for something to do to pass the time until our next meal. (Why not put it bluntly.) She came with us to the Ikebana workshop and was eager to try her hand at making her own arrangement. We took clippers outside and found a ton of good stuff to use. 

I gave her a traditional vase and I used a wide, shallow bowl more typical of Moribana (the style of Ikebana we "learned" -- that's a stretch). We had two colors of Japanese maples, azaleas, lilacs, and Japonica. There are a lot of specifics to the proper placement and geometry of the branches in Ikebana (refer to our handout up top), but I despise following instructions in all circumstances except when giving my children medicine, so we wung it. Basically: tall thing, slightly less tall thing, wide thing out to side, something protruding toward you, something heavy down low to anchor it. This is probably blasphemy but I find it works.

Mama Ikebana

Pip took a more maximalist approach and made the most beautiful arrangement I've ever seen (I'm not exaggerating because I'm her mom). I'm telling you, you'd have to pay $130 in Brooklyn for this thing. It is hauntingly beautiful, and all from found clippings in our yard. I would have been hard-pressed to summon the freedom to make something so luscious and exuberant and great.

Pippa Ikebana

It's something I've noticed whenever she paints too -- she has an innate understanding of beauty. It's direct, it's colorful, it's free, and she knows exactly when to stop. Picasso said, "Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once you grow up." Kids. You learn something from them every day, if you pay attention.

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On a side note, the babe is ten months today! She has her bottom right front tooth, and all the others seem to be just below the surface. She loves to eat real food (clementines! ricotta! meatballs! banana!). She isn't quite crawling forward yet, though she just figured out how to get over her other leg, and she loves to do "So big!" and clap for herself. She says "da da" all the time, and yesterday she said "Pippa" (we both heard it). So far she has no interest in saying "Mama" -- not even for Mother's day.

Deep Thoughts From The Porch

We have a book called "What A Seed Needs" about a pig who is also a farmer. He plants a few different kinds of seeds and the book walks you through all the things that are required for a seed to grow into a flower, vegetable, what have you. Sun, a place in the dirt, water, time, and a little love and care. 

But did you ever really think about it? How amazing it is to plant a little tiny spec of something in the dirt and then get bushels of tomatoes, or hundreds and hundreds of flowers? I have been sitting out on our porch overlooking our gardens and find myself awestruck this summer. Almost every day for the last two weeks I have been harvesting a pint of sweet orange cherry tomatoes and picking a bouquet of zinnias. Sometimes for us, sometimes for neighbors and friends.

 As I nurse our little baby, who similarly came from two specs and grew into the most lovable and spectacular little person, I can't quite believe how long I've been taking the miracle of life for granted. I mean seriously, have you ever really stopped to contemplate how things grow?! Is this why people love science?! Amazing. 

Garden State

We went full teepee this year!

It's BLT Season

Holy Tomatoes, Batman!

Since we knew we were looking to move this summer, Mr. SevPrez planted at garden at his folks' house this year. And it's a beaute -- fenced in to protect the crops from deer, and complete with bamboo teepees. These are some killer tomato plants!  See for yourselves.

We're hoping to can some of the harvest, but it looks like a lot of work. Any tips?

On Spirea

I fell in love with spirea as a young kid. My neighbor had a bush on the side of her house that faced ours and I spent a lot of time alone running around the yard, looking at stuff, concocting teleplays in my head and taking special notice of anything remotely exceptional. I loved its unassuming profile, just a run-of-the-mill green bush most of the year, but for a month in the spring, it took on the most magical, lacy, bright pink blooms. Mrs. Havisham in magenta. 

At some point that bush either died off or was removed, along with a lilac and a bridal wreath on the border of our properties. The old woman who lived in the house passed away. 

I always held a candle for that ethereal pink plant. It was imprinted on my memory like a lost stuffed animal, the smell of my Grammy's back pantry, a favorite cartoon long off the air. It was decades before I ever saw one again, fleeting at first, then they started popping up. When I dropped my water bill payment off at the municipal building, then shopping at the supermarket. I learned their name: spirea. I told my husband that we needed these in our newly landscaped lawn. An absolute must. Once we found them at the nursery he loved them too.  

Now they are everywhere, if you know what to look for. But I took special pride when both our mothers asked to cut a small bouquet from our blooming bushes before they left Fathers Day brunch at our house. They had never noticed, or never heard of spirea, my long lost friend. 

Great Attempts

Killing time at the unopened MAM, employee entrance style.

We were all set to take a day trip into New York and go to the Met on Thursday. We were up early and out the door to the bagel shop, minding our business eating our breakfast sandwiches, when we let the local news put a fright in us about winter storm Hercules… Ominous music plays in the background. When did they start naming winter storms!?!! We had planned to be on our way back before the snow started, and we weren't really buying into the hype, but we got scared about all the other people who would be fleeing the city before the snowpocalypse. We saw ourselves sitting in tunnel traffic and aborted mission before we even began.

We wondered what other museums we could visit. We entertained the Liberty Science Center but both decided it sounded lame. (This could be wildly off base, but I prefer art museums.) We ended up heading to Montclair to see the Montclair Art Museum, which also houses a nice collection of Native American Art. 

We got there at 10:15, ready to embrace our new day trip when -- wait for it -- we found it didn't open til noon. Ugh. 

Montclair is a pretty cute town to kill time in if you have to, but it was about 20 degrees, so we didn't want to wander around too much. Still, there are some beautiful neighborhoods and really spectacular homes that we had fun touring. We made a pit stop at the Van Vleck House & Garden, which was special even in the bitter cold. Mr. Van Vleck was an avid horticulturist who created a yellow rhododendron -- gasp! We very well may have to get our hands on one at their plant sale the first weekend in May. 

We went downtown for shopping and lunch and ended up at Raymond's, a bustling high class diner I'd heard about. It was pretty good, but the little one had a meltdown, you know, throwing crayons, screaming, going limp and floppy when you try to pick her up, the normal stuff… I carried her out to the back hallway and after what seemed like an eternity, managed to talk her down. The good news is that it was so loud that I don't think anyone really noticed. After that lunch experience, the car seemed like a refuge. Trying our luck back at the museum seemed unwise, so we decided to head home. 

Later that night as the snow fell, we debriefed and decided it was actually nice to explore a new town (the homes are really to die for) and get out of the house, but it was also about three-quarters of a rigamarole. 

So, if you're keeping track on my birthday resolutions: Go to the Met - 0, Eat more vegetables - 1 (I had a kale salad for lunch in the face of all day brunch). You win some, you lose some.

Wondering around the Van Vleck House.

Tomato City

Tomatoes are warming up the front stoop for pumpkins in the fall. We've taken to harvesting our crops early since we have soooo many and our tomato plants outgrew their stakes and cages leaving our garden a bit chaotic. 

Tomatoes make quite the festive summer touch!

I ❤ SPIREA

In Bloom

With all the peonies and rhododendrons we've planted, I actually brought myself to cut some flowers to bring inside today. Fresh peonies smell unbelievable! The whole yard is perfumed.

With peonies, whose bursting blooms cause their stems to arch to the ground, cutting actually feels like the right thing to do. When all of our hydrangeas are in bloom we will be approaching cutting garden status, something I've always dreamed of. No guilt!

At The Nursery

Gasko's Family Farm out in Monroe Township is a magical land of plentiful plants for rock bottom prices. We joined the hordes of bickering married couples overwhelmed by the bargains, unwieldy carts, and clotted aisles, enduring it all in the name of a more beautiful lawn.

Baby SevPrez arrived asleep and woke up in her stroller ready to party. She ran all the aisles, and ultimately fell in love with some tiny blue perennials and loaded up 4 of them in the cart. We inspected all the shoots of hosta peeking their way out of the soil, and then packed ourselves into a car that felt like a jungle by the time the last door was closed: one 5' Southern Magnolia, 2 Leland Cypresses, 3 Snowball Spirea (bridal wreath, my favorite flowering bush of all time), 3 Rhodos, 1 Hydrangea, and a few of Pippa's perenials to boot. Couldn't have fit another thing!

Nota bene: Gasko's only accepts cash and checks. Smart, or else you might by the whole farm on plastic.

Garden Update

The tomatoes are growing like crazy! And we have a couple tiny jalapenos. My friend Treehouse Chatter came down and got the full tour, and snapped this picture.

Yard To Table

Boston lettuce, collard greens, and romaine lettuce.

Mr. SevPrez was inspired to plant a vegetable garden in our backyard this spring. I was extremely skeptical, knowing that I wouldn't have much to contribute. Until two weeks ago I was getting home at 7 every day, with not enough time or energy to take care of my existing obligatgions. And my track record is not good. I have killed cacti. I have barely been able to keep potted flowers on our deck alive... I always start out with the best intentions, but with plants I tend to have the wrong instincts.


Thankfully Mr. SevPrez refused to listen to my nay-saying and went ahead with the garden. He chose a sunny spot in our yard, measured a plot around 4 by 16 ft, and started digging. Apparently, it's all about the soil. And we knew we didn't have good soil, as we can barely grow grass in spots of our lawn. Somewhere underground there is a pool that previous owners filled in when they had a baby. So we have issues. But he dug on, and double dug, and got a few bags of good soil from the nursery, and started composting. And it seemed to be working: Mr. SevPrez announces with great pride and excitement everytime he finds a worm. Apparently attracting worms to the garden party means you are doing something right.


Flash forward a few months and we have been enjoying the "vegetables" of our labor. All three of us have had collard greens sauteed in garlic and oil. Our lettuce varieties are growing fast and furiously so we've had lots of crispy salads, which is extra fantastic because even though I love salads, I hate buying salad greens at the grocery store because they always end up going bad before we can eat them all.


Is there anything worse than having to throw out spoiled vegetables? Not only did you manage to avoid eating the healthiest thing in your fridge, nature's bounty went to waste. Double whammy. I have really enjoyed composting because if I am forced to throw out any spoiled product, I don't feel so bad knowing it's contributing to future harvests. We also generate a lot of peels from making homemade baby food so it's very satifying to put it all somewhere that it will do more good.


Aside from all the herbs we've got going on, we are looking forward to beets, zuchini (Baby SevPrez's favorite veggie), leeks, onions, bell peppers, and jalapenos. Tomatoes will come in late summer. We planted blueberry bushes that should yield a couple pie's worth of berries in about a month. And we have a little pot of strawberries that the birds kept beating us to before we got nets.

The early bird gets the strawberries.

I am happy to say I am a garden convert. It's amazing to watch all the veggies grow before your very eyes. And there is nothing, nothing more exciting than being able to say, "I'll be right back, I'm going to pick the lettuce for dinner." Nothing.

Mr. SevPrez wanted me to share this quotation from the book that inspired it all, The Earth Knows My Name: Food, Culture, and Sustainability in the Gardens of Ethnic Americans by Patricia Klindienst: "If you cannot see where your food comes from, you are doomed to live in ugliness." Pretty heavy. But when we haven't gone grocery shopping all week and manage to throw together a healthy salad for lunch because we can walk outside and harvest our own lettuce, it all feels very light.

P.S.
Thanks to my readers who asked me where I've been. Sorry for leaving you hanging! More to come!