the glory of harvest

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blessings, Central Virginia, harvest, jam, summer

This time of year there is a subtle shift…the sun is in a different location.
Gardeners spend so much time planning for spring, that summer slips right in.
Time for harvest, time for county fairs, time for blissful naps in the hammock.

time to crack the jam cookbooks

This morning as I guided my little wheelbarrow around the gardens
before the sun rose,
before the dew dried,
I noticed how swollen the grapes;
how fragrant the lambs ear as I trimmed off spent blossoms,
how quiet the landscape before bees awaken.
The gentle burble of the Bluebird’s call,
the racking squawk of Mary Mockingbird,
and how different from the low coo of the Robin;
I catch myself thinking of fall!
And harvest!
And bounty!
And preserves!

plump local plums ready for jam

the path to righteousness

local, just picked blackberries called for immediate attention on Sunday

whirling divine

the last five cups went into this blackberry cobbler

Swallowtail Cottage is filled with heavenly aromas
as the process begins…

freshly capped jars ready for market

plum jam ready for labels

a dozing dove sits just outside my kitchen door, perhaps enjoying the aromas

peaches, nectarines, and plums, oh my!

same beekeeper; the jar on the left is summer honey and the jar on the right is spring honey. Either way divine!

Sending blessings for a wonderful harvest season.

Copyright © 2013 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

the cinnamon jar

Tags

blessings, childhood memories, happy valentine, lifestyle, memorable snacks, time of innocence, Valentine's Day, virginia countryside

Slightly dented, this little glass jar holds more than sugar and cinnamon.
It was part of my childhood, eagerly sought after school to add sweetness to buttery toast following the end of a long school day. This little jar waited in my mother’s kitchen cabinet for decades, quietly, still full of sweetness, until it became part of my household upon her death in 1995.

I drifted from this childhood ritual, yet recently found this little jar, still waiting quietly in the cupboard, ready to deliver me back to my mother’s cedar paneled kitchen and our seventeen-acre horse farm. Merely a glimpse transports me to a simple, fine time of innocence.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Copyright © 2013 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved

the thing about past loves

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Albemarle County, blessings, horse, life, season, Virginia

This week found me back on a horse following a twenty-six year hiatus.

Recollections of my first Virginia home always include horses, dogs, cats, goats, ducks, chickens and the tasks associated with their care. This was not a farm, per se, as slaughter rarely occurred. These critters found their way to Saddle Pond Farm through my mother’s passion and her riding school on Long Island. Although I rarely saw my mother ride, she imprinted this love onto two of her children.

While an adolescent, I endured the horse shows, the fox-hunting, the equitation competitions, to arrive at my truest love—riding alone in the Southwest hills of Albemarle County. There endless beauty prevailed.

As young adult, horse ownership melted into the life of college student, then into the life of an artist, far removed from her roots. Only twice over the decades did I ride—once in Central Park, NYC and then again in the Grand Tetons, Wyoming.

At long last, those distant memories manifested into reality. This week at the invitation of a new friend, I was once again on the back of a pleasant quarter horse in the fields of northwest Albemarle.

One of the last things my mother said to me before she died was, “you can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl.”

Full circles are just that—they welcome, comfort, reaffirm, and empower.

Have you rediscovered a past love recently?

the thing about whiskers

Tags

blessings

 

This day began before sunrise, as I dragged the hose around the yard, watering needy plants before high temperatures and humidity brewed. I adore quiet mornings here at Swallowtail Cottage, and there are many.

Feeling such a connection to nature as I toil, bringing life-giving moisture to vulnerable plants, propping up flower laden stems, plucking succulent tomatoes off vines before critters find them, admiring the agility of cicada killer wasps as they fly their tank-like bodies with ease, monitoring the vegetable garden before harvesting for a later meal, listening to songs of resident birds as they begin another busy day…life is good here, simple yet good.

What happened next topped the morning show outside; it was a gift that I found next to my office chair when I fired up the laptop. If you follow my blog, you know that my beloved Miss Kitty departed this life on the fifth of May. Weekly cottage cleanings since then removed remnants of her physical being, yet there, on the floor, next to my chair was a long Miss Kitty whisker. Are you thinking what I am thinking?

Yes indeed, I am reconciled with comforting thoughts that Miss Kitty resides with me still, in spirit and apparently in physical manifestations. After all we are the “Bawdy, Bodacious Girls” or “BBG’s” and I look forward to her incarnation as my ongoing muse. In the meantime her whisker tickles my imagination.

Copyright © 2011 by Diane LaSauce All Rights Reserved