Garden Update 17 August 2012

Wow.  It's been a couple weeks.  Things have been busy at the homestead lately.  Here are the latest garden happenings:

We finally have some peppers setting fruit.  These are a couple of tiny peppers that will eventually turn into this:

I found this beautiful orange pepper hiding behind the swiss chard when I decided to pull out the greens and get them in the freezer.  Those greens were beautiful!  Even with all the harvesting for fresh eating, I wound up with 12 portions of swiss chard in the freezer for wintry stir fry dinners.

There were a few random beets left in there also.  So pretty and so tasty.  I grew Bull's Blood beets and they are so sweet and wonderful.  My husband ate them and actually asked for more.  Win!

Speaking of beautiful things...the eggplant has gone barking mad and has become super productive since the temperatures cooled down about a week ago.  I have so many eggplants, I just don't know what to do.  Fortunately, I hear my boss likes eggplant.  So I may have some brownie point material here.

The cucumbers have been producing like crazy.  I've put up a couple jars of 'Sun Dillies' and they just keep on coming.  They don't look all that good in this picture.  I think there is a fungus amongus.  But it doesn't seem to be affecting the fruits or the fruit set.  I'm almost tired of cucumbers.  Almost.

Here is my last pic of the day.  These little fellas are Tennessee Spinner Gourds.  They only get about 2 to 2 1/2 inches long and they are the cutest little things.  I planted four different kinds of gourds.  Two types actually germinated and only the spinners are producing.  But, I think I might be on the verge of actually getting luffa flowers.  There were a few male flowers today and a couple of female flowers that looked like they might be considering a courtship.  Time will tell.  I will report with pics if they have a successful rendevous.

Unfortunately, it didn't occur to me to take pics until it was far too late.  I harvested about 50 jalapenos today.  As an experiment, I sliced them all up and put them in a 50:50 vinegar:water solution with some kosher salt and I have the jars sitting out back on the concrete paver with the Sun Dillies.  No, I didn't put dill in the pepper jars.  I'm hoping they make nice pickeled jalapenos and I don't have to process them with a water bath canner.

Lastly, I have some pole beans getting close to being of a size to harvest.  Not many just yet.  But I'm hopeful.  There sure are a lot of flowers out there.

Going Solo

For most of my life, I have preferred to go it alone.  An introvert by nature, my instincts lead me through a life where the only person on whom I must depend is myself.  That is what makes this story so disconcerting for me.

About 20-odd years ago, I started practicing yoga in my living room with a video tape.  For a number of years, I was content to practice along with the lady on the TV screen.  Over time, I mastered what I thought was the 'routine' of yoga through her instructional videos.  I thought it was pretty cool.

Then one day I happened to catch a TV program about yoga and my eyes were opened to the possibilities.  I always knew there were classes out there with impossibly thin and limber young women coercing others into pretzel-like shapes with calm aplomb.  I knew that the attendees would wear either long-sleeved leotards or organic cotton/bamboo blend yoga capris with hand-embroidered lotus flowers on the backs of the calves.  Tres chic.  And so NOT me.

What I didn't know is that a real yoga class is made up of real people wearing sweatpants and t-shirts and yes, the occasional yoga top and/or capris.  Real people with tight hamstrings and sweatpants and bandanas who actually started to sweat when they got into it. Real yoga classes had chanting and breathing and actual meditation.  Meditation?  For real? I had no idea these things happened anywhere near where I lived. I thought they were all out in California or on some mountaintop somewhere where people had nothing but time to intone aum and contemplate the tip of their noses.

I happened across a studio one day while visiting our local farmer's market. So, throwing caution to the wind, I tried a class. I was immediately hooked. Soon I found myself entangled and finally almost 2 years later nearly suffocated with it. After a less than stellar exit from the studio following my final class there, I promised myself I would never do that to myself again. I would never let myself fall into that same 'joiner' trap.

But of course I did. That's another blog with a similar ending that I haven't had the courage to write yet.

This blog is about going solo as the name implies. And I am getting to the point.

I had just had a falling out with the woman who I saw as my primary teacher over, of all things, my desire to learn to teach. I loved her. I would have done anything for her. Then she cut me. Deep.

I pushed everything about it away. I pushed my practice away. I shoved my desire so far down it was impossible to see or even feel anymore. For several years. I told myself that there was no point in even trying. I stopped practicing. I packed away my yoga books and equipment. I got on with my life.

Then, I ran into a friend from that studio on facebook. She's teaching yoga and ayurveda in Iowa these days but she comes to town on occasion to teach. Meeting with her re-ignited that old flame in my heart. As time goes by, the flame glows brighter and I feel drawn back to my practice.

Then, of course as it always happens, reality smacks me in the ass and I have to stop and think. I realize that I can't go back where I was and the logistics of finding and attending a new studio are complex with my current lifestyle. So, naturally, I did the only thing I could possibly do in that situation.

I gave up. If I can't go to a real class with a real teacher and be a part of something 'real,' why bother?  Well, I'll tell you why.

A couple days ago I read a blog post on elephantjournal.com about practicing at home. The author was talking about the fact that, as a teacher, she encourages her students to develop their own home practice. After all, yoga is about only one person, isn't it? It's about developing yourself. It's about...okay this is out there. It's about finding yourself and then being okay with what you find.  Very new age of me, huh?

So I put away the DVDs that I didn't want to do and turned off the computer and rolled out my mat.  With Deva Premal wafting from my boom box, I sat on my mat and started. I had no game plan. I had no idea where I was going with this practice. I was just going to go. I had my blocks and my strap and a brand new purple bolster. It was shakey, treacherous ground for me the woman who requires a list and a plan for everything.

Aaaaaaaannnnnnd GO!

It was magical. I spent 45 minutes twisting myself into my own little pretzel designs stiff though they were. As I came out of savasana, I had to stifle a laugh. What the hell had I been thinking? It still makes me smile.

So that's it. That's what going solo is all about. It's about knowing something about myself, then forgetting it only to have karma come back around and remind me of the fact that I am, by nature, a loner. How in the world could I let that slip my mind?

Thanks to Lisa Munger  and her blog From the Ground Up for lighting that flame in my heart again. I owe you one, aum girl.

Namaste.

Saying Good-bye

I am always surprised when it happens. I am always surprised when I have to say good-bye to someone and it does not come easily. Even when I know it's a good thing.

Yesterday was a friend's last day at work. He and his family are re-locating to Oklahoma. He found a fantastic job that will let him stretch his abilities and grow in his career and I hope he will be happy and really come into his own there.  I am very happy and excited for him and his family. What an adventure they are embarking upon!

He and I worked together for 14 years.  That's a pretty long time in this industry. Add to that the fact that he taught me the basic job that I do every day at my desk and in the lab at my bench. Every single day, I use the skills that he taught me when I was a novice chemist. When we said good-bye yesterday afternoon, after his going away speech and after everyone wished him well, we shared a friendly hug and when we parted and smiled at each other, I could see the tears I felt stinging in my eyes reflected in his. If I'm not careful, they'll come back again today with a vengeance.

The only things he and I have in common is our profession, the enjoyment of a good belly-laugh, and our passion for living life to the fullest possible extent. All the details are different for us. Still. I find myself missing him the way you miss a favorite, comfortable chair when it finally gives up the ghost and you have to discard it.  It's not something you want to do. Something...someone...familiar is gone and although I know he's only an email away should I choose to write one, it's just not the same.

I feel sad. I am attached to things the way they were and now they've changed. Recently, I've come to learn that being attached to things...even to people...is the source of much of the pain in life. I've made an effort to loosen my grip on some of my personal attachments with varying degrees of success. I am, after all, a work in progress. Part of my process of letting go is just allowing myself to sit with the attachment and feel whatever emotions that attachment evokes in the current situation. Last night, as I sat on my yoga mat in the darkness of my room, I let the twinges from this separation twang at my heart and I reminded myself that all is as it should be.

In an effort to wrest myself free of this particular attachment, I would like to share something that has always been special to me. My favorite teacher in high school (Hi Mrs. Caleca, wherever you are!) sent me on my way in life on my graduation day with this blessing. Even though I know he likely will never see this and I am not a religious person, he is a Christian man and I know this would be something that he would like. I did not get an opportunity to share this with him yesterday.

So here goes.

Ahem.

For my friend, Matthew:

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

So long, Matthew. Godspeed.