An unexciting day,
after the thrills of yesterday. Archie and I got once around the garden; step
count 2480.
Here’s a picture
of Joe and Becca and Ella:
No knitting.
And very little in
the way of deploying yesterday’s garden centre purchases. Maybe I’ll start the
micro greens off this evening. Barbara-Kay, (comment yesterday) my father grew
snow peas in his wartime vegetable garden in Detroit. I had never heard of them,
and remember them as sublimely delicious. When I started growing vegetables in
Kirkmichael, it was the first thing I wanted to achieve. I had successful
crops, but nothing ever tasted as wonderful as those wartime snow peas. My
father even sent me some American seeds, to no avail.
In those days, I
think, the stores didn’t sell them: or maybe that was because my mother didn’t
buy them. Nowadays they’re abundantly available, but boring.
I’ve been
re-reading Mitford, “Love in a Cold Climate” now that I’ve finished “Pursuit of
Love”. And it is indeed cold.
I had a bad
evening yesterday (after writing to you) when I couldn’t find Perdita. She
couldn’t have escaped (she likes going for walks) – there’s only one way out,
and Helen and the van man, loading her mosaic, couldn’t have failed to
notice a stout middle-aged cat going down the steps and setting forth along
Drummond Place. Even knowing that, I was anxious and unhappy for a couple of
hours. But she’s here, with no explanation of her absence.
Cats can hide in other dimensions when they want. I swear they all have a door under the bed, in the farthest, darkest corner, that opens only to them! When they finally feel like gracing us with their presence once more, we're supposed to pretend nothing ever happened.
ReplyDeleteI have grown snow peas, but when I do, I generally just graze them like a deer. Few make it to the kitchen. I have also given up on regular peas. So much work, and the frozen ones are pretty good.
ReplyDeleteThe photo of the new parents is so charming. They look proud as Punch to have produced that baby who is quite healthy looking.
ReplyDeleteMy cat can do that: hide herself away for hours. She is 17 and totally deaf (the vet could find no explanation for her deafness) and so I worry when she disappears. I understand your concern. She always appears when she is hungry. And shows her displeasure at how slow I am to prepare her dinner.
Possibly she was perturbed by all the activity. I once found a friend's cat in a space underneath the floor of a cabinet. I got an arm in far enough to feel his fur. (He came back out when he decided to.) If there is an opening, they will find it. It could be an indoor adventure, searching for openings.
ReplyDeleteInteresting snow pea story! I was born in the 1940's, but didn't experience snow peas until the 1970's. By the way, my little Midwest town established Thursday afternoon shop closing during WWII to allow all to work on their Victory Gardens. Here we are in 2021, and the same schedule continues - but I suspect few people remember why stores are closed Thursday afternoons.
ReplyDeleteSo glad you found Perdita, or that she allowed herself to be seen. As a new cat person I will add to the cat comments: Now that we have a feral cat who is training herself for the indoors, that is one big difference I've found between the dogs and cats: the range of places a cat might be is so much greater.
ReplyDeleteThe new family is lovely. Joe looks so much like Alexander- his uncle, I think?
ReplyDelete& your sunny afternoon on the stoop with your neighbors - my goodness, what a pleasure after these long dark lonely months!
Beverly in NJ