CSA Loot

Last fall I signed up for a CSA membership for PrairiErth Farm, an organic family farm located near L-Town.

CSA stands for Community Supported Agriculture. Basically, members pay upfront to "invest" in the farm for a year. Then, in return for their investment, members receive a weekly "share" of in-season vegetables. If the farm has a rough harvest of something, you might not get much. But if the farm has a particularly good season, you'll be eating organic vegetables a-plenty. It's a great way to support local family farms, to get exceptionally fresh produce, and to ensure you know exactly where your food is coming from.

I was incredibly excited to snag the last spot in the CSA for L-Town, because memberships like that are hard to come by in central Illinois.


After months of updates from the farm and (somewhat) patient waiting, the deliveries started at the beginning of May and will run through October. Our first couple of weeks, not surprisingly, have been all about the greens--lettuce mix, kale, chard, spinach, that sort of thing. And a lot of it.

We had more great greens this week--all of the above, plus some tarragon and chives.

And, better yet, the big bouquet of incredibly fragrant, incredibly lovely flowers you saw above.

Can't beat that!

Wishing You a Happy Mother's Day

As you probably know, today is Mother's Day. (If you didn't know this already, hurry! It's not too late to call your mother and let her know you're thinking of her.)

Although I think many holidays are manufactured by the greeting card industry in order to increase their profits, I think Mother's Day and Father's Day are particularly important. Parents deserve our love and appreciation every day, but sometimes life gets busy and we forget to show and tell them just how much they mean to us.

And so today is the perfect day to tell your mother (or favorite aunt or grandmother or friend who is a mother) how important they are to you.

I hope that my mother knows already just how wonderful she is and how much I admire her and how I hope that I can be even half as good of a mother as she has been to me.

But, Mom, because those words went unsaid when we spoke on the phone a few minutes ago, now you have them in writing, accompanied by some photos of the flowers I planted this afternoon. Consider this an extra Mother's Day gift to you, along with the one we already sent.

And these well wishes and admiration also apply to Conservative Mom. And to all of you grandmothers out there (Grandma Phyllis and Grandma Barb, plus Conservative Hubby's lovely grandmothers ... and Grandma Collins, who's celebrating Mother's Day in heaven this year with her honey).

Happy Mother's Day!

Tiptoeing Through the Tulips

Unlike their friends the daffodils, the tulips in the front yard don't think it's absolutely necessary to be among the first flowers to bloom each spring.


Sure, they're excited to make an appearance and to open toward the warm April sun. But they're going to wait until they're good and ready to do so.


Good and ready happened to be, for the most part, last week.

This also happened to be when the rain showers and thunderstorms and tornado warnings settled in. So today was my first opportunity to snap some photos of the trembling tulips as they danced in the breeze.


Most of the tulips in our front yard were planted long before we arrived in our house. They were a pleasant surprise our first spring.

This year, however, I supplemented those tulips with a few bulbs of my own.


Once they bloomed, I realized just how different these bulbs are from the ones that came before.


A little variety is kind of nice, isn't it?


Butter thinks so too.

Little Pretties

A steady stream of little pretties appeared this week ...


in the palest of pale yellow


and purple


and more purple.

And there's more on the way too ... for months to come. Hooray!

Spring Flowers

Rejoice! Spring has sprung in our front yard.

It actually began a couple of weeks ago, with some new buds never before seen on our property.

That's when the first of the smattering of bulbs I planted last fall made an appearance,


starting with the anemones.



Followed closely behind by the giant hyacinth.


And then the crocuses.

Pretty little buds signaling a pretty wonderful start to a new season, wouldn't you say?

Pretty Little Flowers

The last couple of weeks, I have been grocery shopping on Monday or Tuesday nights. And I've hit the jackpot each time I pass the flowers: Buckets full of seriously clearanced buds that still look beautiful. The other day, I snagged three bouquets of various sizes for $2. No joke.

And so I have been scattering little vases of fresh flowers around our house.

Only this week, I shopped on Saturday. And I wasn't about to spend $7 a bouquet for the sale flowers, so I went home empty-handed.

But then I realized that was just plain silly, because I have my own zinnias to cut.

In the backyard, two transplants (one pink and one yellow).


And in the planter out front, a few zinnias I planted from seed are finally blooming, with the most lovely petite blossoms.


This has led me to believe that I should include more flowers in next year's garden.

Because there's something so wonderful about a little bouquet of colorful blossoms you've grown yourself—blossoms that have not been drenched in pesticides or shipped from who knows where—sitting on the kitchen table.

Don't you agree?

The Backyard Garden

The little perennial garden I started last year in the backyard isn't nearly as lovely as the one in the front yard.

It has had a few growing pains and could still use a little work, yet slowly but surely the plants are growing and flowering and making our back patio one of my favorite places to work in the morning when it's cool and even in the afternoon when I don't mind a little heat.

Once I situated a couple of small fences so Butter couldn't use the new garden as his personal bathroom, he's taken ownership of the site. He regularly watches over it to ensure there aren't any intruders.

Usually there aren't. But you never know. In Butter's world, you can never be too cautious.

The newest additions to this garden are the two zinnia plants I added last week. They were a bit of a splurge, because I was dying for some more vibrant color and wanted a few plants for cutting flowers.

The old standbys are doing pretty well too. The first of the coneflowers are slowly blooming.

The Asiatic lilies and daylilies are in their prime right now.

And whatever this plant is (I can't recall and need to do some research), it's flowering too. I have mixed feelings about it, as it's not nearly as lovely as I expected. But I'm working through my issues.

Besides, variety is supposed to be the spice of life, isn't it?

Praising the Perennial Garden

Oh how I adore the perennial garden in our front yard.


I love the way the flowers sprout from the ground, spread their leaves, and form their precious blossoms without any encouraging from me.

I love the way the different hues bloom in rapid succession, beginning in May and continuing through the fall.

I love the way the garden looks from the front window where I stand and appraise it periodically throughout the day. I also love the different views it offers from the lawn and the street. (I think the streetside view is the best, actually.)


Two years ago at this time, there was no perennial garden. Instead, there was a rather ugly bush. It wasn't removed until July, and that's when the perennial garden came to be.

Having never planted perennials before, I decided—as I do with so many things I try—just to wing it.

I purchased flowers that were already blooming and that I liked the look of. I selected ones with names that seemed familiar. I picked some that were on clearance because it was already July. I tried to make sure they were all suited to our climate and, when I could figure it out, that they were native.

Around this time last year, I added some mulch and a few new plants, but mostly let the garden do its thing.

And this year, I only added one new plant—a purchase from the master gardener's plant sale, one that will hopefully add a bit of late-summer color. Beyond that one planting, I have weeded and mulched and little else.


This year, it's all about enjoying the fruits of previous years' labor. Like the blooms shown here, which made their appearance the other day.


The first flowers of the season, all in hues of purple, are giving way to a more vibrant assortment of oranges and yellows.


Fun, isn't it?

Holding On To Spring

Why is it that just as the plants get busy, peeking up from the ground and blossoming and spreading their leaves, that I get busier too?


I adore all the seasons and the changes they bring (though perhaps long, icy winters least of all), and spring is certainly at the top of the list.

There's something about those first days when it's finally comfortable to step outside in flip flops and a t-shirt again, when the dreariness of winter gives way to the cheerful hues of new plant life, when the sky somehow seems clearer and bluer than it has in months, that I'm drawn to.


So it devastates me when it's also the season when deadlines come fast and furious, when there's a mad rush to present research and finish papers and a million other things on campus, when new opportunities that are much more time-consuming than I ever imagined get added to my already too-full plate.

And my only moments to enjoy the songs of spring come quickly, furtively, as I walk across campus or pull out of the driveway or stand on the back step for a couple of extra seconds when I let Butter inside.


In these brief moments of respite from the madness, I snatch a glance at the tulips that have bloomed without my permission, at the daffodils that have already long since opened, at the joyful spring attire of the flowering trees that is already giving way to new green leaves.

I file these details away in my memory, hold fast to them as the early spring blooms begin to drop to the ground and the pollen coats my car, trying to live in the moment rather than looking ahead.


And I think, with hope, that perhaps next year things will be slower. Perhaps next year I will be able to stand barefoot among the perennials that have bloomed in the front yard, that daily I may be able to breathe deeply beneath the lilac bushes that I pass, that I will be able to soak up every moment of spring and its glory.

Yard Work

Finally ... a weekend day warm enough for some yard work. And boy did our yard ever need it.


In front, it was attack of the sweet gum balls and dead leaves. In back, let's just say Butter left me a lot of little presents over the past couple of months I needed to clear out.


Yes, that was my discreet way of saying out backyard has been overrun with dog poop. (Sorry, people, but sometimes I just have to spell these things out.)


So Conservative Hubby got out the rake and set to work, while I handled the delicate work of clearing leaves and sweet gum balls from around the perennials starting to sprout up in my front-yard garden. (That's what you're seeing here, in case you were wondering.)


Then we bagged all the leaves and debris and I headed to the back for some more yard pick-up. And no, I will not share a photo of the little presents. I'm going to trust that you've seen that sort of thing before, although I hope for your sake you've never stepped in any of it. Because that's gross. I speak from experience, many times over.


I really hope my talk about dog poo isn't distracting you from these lovely green things. I'm ecstatic to see so many plantings making an appearance already.


Most of these were planted in the perennial garden last spring, so this is the first time I've witnessed them peeking up from the wet earth, slowly stretching out toward the warmth and sun and promise of spring.

Of course, there are the regulars that I've met a few years now getting ready to bloom too. Not many of the daffodils are to this point yet, but a few little buds are teasing me.


By Monday, I think this little one will be ready for its full-fledged greeting.


What do you think?

Greeting Spring

Technically it's not spring yet. That doesn't happen until a week from Saturday, if you listen to the folks in charge of the calendar.


But don't tell that to my favorite spring flowers, who abide by a calendar all their own. The daffodils (above) and tulips (below) began peeking up from beneath the mud last week.


And don't tell that to the other pretty green things making their appearance.


I checked back on last year's first flower post, and it looks like we're just a few days behind last year's progress. (The lovely 65-degree weather was a few days later too. But rejoice—now it's here!)


So consider this your notice: The flower posts are beginning. And spring has sprung!