peony

first harvest

small radishes, from the yard: crisp and slightly spicy, toddler x greatly enjoyed plucking them from the ground.

a friend in the yard

much to the delight of everyone, the baron found this toad under the water hose.  later in the week, on a pre-dawn morning, the husband found him sitting on the back stoop.  it's been decided: he's a friend, possibly a prince, and worth keeping an eye out for.

sky blue sky

dandelion day

hammock time

sunday morning on the lawn

some hedge trimming, some sun shining, some seeds sprouting...

finished!

the baron has finally - FINALLY! - finished her english paper pieced quilt.  it was her first - and most likely her last - epp project; it is entirely hand sewn, except for the binding, for which she used her sewing machine on one side.  the final product is around 5 feet square, in white and varying shades of grey and orange.  the back, which you, reader, can kind of see peeking out below the binding in two of the three photographs here, is pieced together from two fabrics (one orange and white, the other grey and white).

this quilt has been a fabric specter, haunting the baron every day she was not actively working on it.  she kept it in her bedroom, on top of her dresser (for ease of reach - a hearty joke), and so it lurked there in its off hours, reminding her of the enormous and impossible amount of work left to do.  the quilt was conceived of and made for the baron's daughter, for her second birthday (a milestone 6 weeks past now).  the hexagons and restricted color palette feel modern and clean to the baron, and she's hoping daughter x will want to keep this quilt in use for many years to come.

outside in the springtime

study in potty training

yes, that is a potty training seat, minus the insert, so that the smallest member of the baron's family may pee directly onto the lawn while comfortably seated.  the solitary pink flip-flop really makes the scene, right?

bouncing for spring

in the yard

fly a kite

why yes, the baron did use square lashing and a clove hitch, as well as a trash bag and washi tape to make this kite!  what a keen eye you have, reader!

also: no, it did not fly.  but much fun was had anyway.

shades of harlan pepper

all the dogs look forward to spring, but none so much as harlan pepper, he of the flinty gaze and and speckled chest.

so, because the weather has been looking up, enjoy yourself a photographic ode to harlan pepper.

it's been a long time, reader

reader, the baron is pregnant. still. she's about three and a half weeks out from her due date, though really? isn't that due date just a best guess? so at this point the baron is pretty much on tenterhooks trying to listen to her body's every tic and sigh. as in, 'hm. is that the baby kicking or the start of labor?' it's kind of distracting, actually.

her behavior - this constant self-monitoring on the lookout for labor - is not a recent development -she's pretty much been obsessively listening to her body for the past nine months... thus, she has no real, good excuse for her prolonged absence these last few months. where has she been? the answer to *that* question is, she's been nowhere. let's chalk the silence up to job stress and nesting distractions, how's that?

so.

three and a half weeks out. this home stretch is taking forever, in the baron's opinion! she's very much feeling her weight now, as well as every little shift the baby makes. she's tired all the time, and wanting to sleep all the time (these developments having come on in the last week or so)... but has a hard time sleeping for anything beyond three hours before having to pee again. and the pee? can still be measured in teaspoons. her blood pressure is elevated, and she's having nausea again, as well as wicked, wicked indigestion. though she knows it's best for everyone if he makes it as close to 40 weeks as possible, the baron is kind of ready to expel baby x post-haste. well, ready except for the lactation specialist she and the husband have yet to find. ready except for the pediatrician they have yet to interview. ready except for the hospital bag that languishes on the bedroom floor in anticipation of ALL THE THINGS YET TO PACK INTO IT.

so. mostly ready.

however, things aren't entirely bad for the baron. spring is very nearly upon her, and the last week was gorgeous beyond the telling of it. she and the husband had a baby shower, thrown for them by very good friends, and baby x is ready for his converse closeup. and that last photo? that's a cheesecake with apricot glaze and strawberries. baby x, see all the wonderful things waiting for you?

harlan in repose.


baby shower courtesy of gina, kathy, and kevin.

itty bitty converse courtesy of lady x.

cheesecake by the baron.

from the yard in may

reader, you may remember - from about this time last year - that the baron and the husband are big BIG fans of working and playing in the garden. in previous years, they pulled out vegetable garden seeds and flats, to start seedlings inside well before the last frost date. this year, however, they were late seemed to make a tacit agreement NOT to do things that way. instead, around the last week of april, after the husband and built three very sturdy vegetable boxes, they direct sowed their vegetable seeds into the soil. below, the cucumber is making its way - so slowly - toward a chicken wire support structure.


besides the cucumber (of which they planted two varieties), the baron and the husband also planted: tomatoes (garden peach, cherry, black krim, pineapple, and mr. stripey (reader, how could the baron pass up a tomato called MR. STRIPEY!?!)); artichokes; asparagus; beans; watermelon; brussels sprouts; okra; two varieties of lettuce; mustard greens; and edamame. if everything goes to plan (though, really, how often does that happen?), the baron and the husband will be rich will the fruits (and vegetables) of their labors.

the baron's favorite type of plants are the ones that do something for her; her feeling is that - after putting time and work and water into something - there should be some kind of reward. in this way, the vegetable garden suits her well.

however.

there are some things in her yard that are even better. they are the fruit bearing plants that REQUIRE ALMOST NO WORK on the part of the baron.

for instance:

these blueberries - the baron has 6 plants of three different varieties - require nothing from her but mulch in the fall and water in the spring. and you know what, reader? if it rains, she doesn't even bother to water them.



also, here is a three year old blackberry bush, limbs heavy with fruit. and, it requires nothing of her. so far, the squirrels have not yet discovered it...


the dwarf peach tree, also very low maintenance. this year, the third that the tree has been in the ground, the baron and the husband decided to protect is from the yard's wildlife with netting. so far, no peaches have been ceded to squirrels.


a strawberry plant, in a strawberry pot, that miraculously survived winter and came back this spring. so far, it seems to require nothing but water and has so far yielded 3 tiny red berries... and below, it looks like 3 more will soon be ready for harvest!

no one wields a pair of garden clippers like the husband.

photo essay: things they did last weekend

though the weather was bad the first weekend of may, the baron and the husband and the dogs were able to spend some time outside. the husband mowed the lawn, while the baron took photos of their nascent gardens...


a white poppy, the first one to bloom this year.












lavender iris, the first one.




vegetable boxes, built by the husband during the week the baron was away.






arugula, seeded last weekend.






one of many ferns that survived the winter.





stairs to the not-yet-built-patio.










the 2009 christmas card... which still needs some work.

change, or, you can't go back, but it's nice to visit

as she mentioned earlier this week, the baron is visiting her family and friends in california. she's staying in her childhood home in riverside, where her mother and brother still live.

though very few things have changed inside the house, the baron has noticed them all, each one an affront to her memory: that new bathroom tile? those area rugs? the jigsaw puzzle on the dining room table - since when does her mother do jigsaw puzzles? outside the house, even fewer things are different, but she spotted them too: the lavender is three feet tall now, and was there always a purple rose bush in the rose garden? the lantana has been shaped into a severe hedge, the olive trees have been trimmed to their nubs, and the lemon tree is square (really, a square, and really, it's weird).

------------------

the baron woke up just past 6:00 this morning, bullied into a corner of the bed by her mother's two tiny dogs (combined weight: 24 lbs). she pushed her way back to the center of the bed and tried to get back to sleep, but the sun - and the fragrance of orange blossoms - conspired to keep her awake. she decided to take a walk, an easy one around her neighborhood, through the streets, up to the shopping center, and back again. she had made this walk many, many, MANY times in her previous life, usually with a boy, and once when she was very drunk. in those days, before cell phones and the reinvention of apple, the baron took this walk with no distraction but the sights; today, she had her nano and the playlist from her new life.

it turned out, vampire weekend and modest mouse, the roots and the ramones were kind of inappropriate for her walk, reminders of the gym, and the husband, and maryland; she wanted something with a sublime feel to it, something easy and fun, something like the beach boys (but maybe not so pop as the beach boys). she scrolled through the playlist until she found something that felt suitable for the early sunshine, the morning's version of the gloaming hour. reader, she settled on pavement:



(isn't there something so great about pavement? something really californian about the music?)

with the perfectly appropriate soundtrack, the walk this morning gave the baron an opportunity to reflect on her childhood neighborhood, and reader, things have changed there too. she passed houses she used to know, or rather, houses that were once inhabited by families she used to know: the hymans, the avellas, the kennedys, the goldsteins, ms. farley's place. she's not sure how many of those families remain, the children having moved beyond riverside, the parents perhaps having moved to smaller houses, other towns. this saddened the baron, thinking about the change that had passed through the neighborhood - called canyon crest - that had once been the center of her life, changes that she had not even been witness to. changes that she had not even known were coming!

the streets on her walk reflected the change: every yard (really! every yard!) she passed was perfectly tended, perfectly manicured, a riot of color and growth. she saw outdoor patios, home additions, outdoor entry rooms, low stone walls and lots of bmws. she also saw many people walking dogs, enjoying the day before the heat set in, clutching a leash in one hand and a plastic bag (some empty, some full) in the other. these people, with their dogs, seemed happy to the baron. most likely, they had not noticed the changes, or, they were the change and did not know it.

the baron's walk was just 2 miles - if even that - and soon the she was back at her mother's house. the morning was still cool, but the forecast called for an 85 degree day. she came up the driveway, past her brother's truck (the one that had been their father's last and favorite auto purchase), past the squared-off lemon tree, past the lantana hedge, past the tiny birdhouses that decorate the path to the front door (these birdhouses? a new addition to the front walkway). she kicked off her shoes and was greeted by 24 lbs of fawn colored chihuahua and black and tan mutt. soon, thinking about coffee, and a shower, and breakfast, the baron's walk - and the sadness - was pushed to the back of her mind.

march 2, 2009

the baron, even after so many years away from her beloved california, still anticipates spring with the first of march. march calls to her mind the scent memory of orange blossoms; her childhood home - the one where her mother still lives - is two streets over from acres and acres of orange groves... every spring, as the blossoms open and fill the air with the rich scent of orange, the steady buzz of bees is all around. spring in riverside is a tricky time - warm during the days, but very cool in the evenings... in her pre-teen youth, in the springtime evenings, the baron would sit by her open bedroom window, enveloped by both an agatha christie plot and the heavenly smell of those orange blossoms.

so.

march in maryland? not so much.

these were taken monday morning, and while the dogs seem to be having the BEST TIME EVER, the baron was keenly missing the buzz of bees all around.

already?

this is a branch the dogwood tree that sits in the baron's front yard. it's a lovely tree, as the blooms plainly show. sadly, the flowers have already fallen, and are replaced by leaves. the leaves are nice, too, but there's just something about a tree full of blushing pink flowers...