This is my garden.

Just kidding, of course. This is the reproduction of Thomas Jefferson's garden at Monticello. If you're ever in the area, definitely stop by and take a look - they're spectacular. It's impossible to take in this gorgeous view and look around at the gardens, orchards and other symbols of joyous abundance without experiencing at least a shiver of regret and grief knowing that the landscape was tamed by slaves. So often personal joy and existential sadness commingle and Monticello is no exception.

My own gardens are coming along. I need to buy yet more dirt to fill the containers that will hold tomatoes and peppers. These will be grown on the second story deck (veranda? I am south of the Mason-Dixon Line, after all) to avoid the deer/squirrel/rabbit problems that plagued us last year. I've bought eight seedlings to grow plum tomatoes for canning and drying, two for slicing and two different cherries - one red and one yellow. Three kinds of bell peppers and two hot round out the mix. The little salad garden is giving me great happiness - it's time to thin the sprouts, which I hate doing but I realize that it's necessary. In a few weeks we'll have mesclun, radishes and thin little onions for fresh salads. Really looking forward to that.

I'm also looking forward to tonight's dinner. We're having a macronade made with red wine gravy left over from last night. It's become cool-ish again here so this is just the thing to keep us warm through the night when it's too cold for a fan, but too warm to turn the heater or electric blanket on. First, cook up a pound of your favorite noodle things - I like rotini or elbows for this, but it really doesn't matter - in some nicely salted water. When they're cooked and drained, put them back in the pot and mix in enough gravy to moisten and flavor them without having them swim in it. You want the noodles to be nicely coated and slippery. Adjust the seasonings if necessary and then pour them into a casserole which has been rubbed with a garlic clove. Top with grated parmesan cheese and run under the broiler just until the cheese is melted and is a nice goldeny color. Serve with wine and salad for a delicious, quick dinner.

I've used jarred commercial gravy for this and, while it's not completely sucky, it's not really what you're looking for either. Leftover liquid from stew is nice, though, and worth saving in your freezer for just such occasions. For tonight I'm using the gravy that I made from the cooking liquid used for a Swiss Steak: beef broth, red wine and diced tomatoes, seasoned with salt and pepper and thickened with a flour slurry. Yum...is it dinner yet?

Not a lovely day here in Charlottesville. Cold, misty, rainy, and just generally not pleasant (at least not what we've been led to expect over the last lovely weeks). Tonight is expected to be even worse, causing me to use quart size canning jars as cloches over some of the more tender new plantings so the money and effort they've already claimed is not wasted. I'm beginning to think that gardening is sort of like yacht or horse racing. Remember the old joke? How can you end up with a million dollars in horse racing? Start with 10 million. In gardening it's probably more like "Want to enjoy the beauty of $500 in new plants? Start with $1,500 in new plants."


I haven't come anywhere near spending this much, but I can see where it's possible. For example, I've become quite taken with double impatiens and decided that, this year, I'd like to have a few in what is now the ex-hosta bed. Turns out they're $3.00 a piece in my local garden center. Of course, the good folks at Burpee offered seed, but I'm still kind of klutzy when it comes to growing from seed so I decided to buy six and fill in with other stuff, like these beautiful confetti lantana. At these prices, though, I'm becoming more and more motivated to get my act together with regards to seeds. My new motto may become: buy perennials, grow annuals. That is, until I next visit the garden center and get sucked into buying some annual I'd never seen. My resolve is weak, indeed.


The strawberry jam turned out well. For the first time ever I'm actually pleased with the texture - not too firm (I hate jams and jellies that are like the skin on old gelatin desserts - shudder) - but not to loose. The color is also particularly fine. Occasionally I'll have a batch of jam that tastes fine but takes on a grey or brownish tone after processing. Fine for home use, but not terribly giftable. No problems here this time - I'm glad I took the time to do it. Giant has mangos on sale this week so I might make up a batch of mango jam this weekend. If I'm able to get to it my jam needs for the year will likely be covered. Think I'll stop? Yeah, right. Not with blueberry, raspberry and blackberry seasons still ahead. And let's not forget peaches and plums. A canner's work is never done.


Remember the tomato/olive relish/chutney/sauce thing I made the other night for the tuna? I came out just as I hoped it would. In fact, I'm going to look into the canning possibilities - i.e., whether or not it can be hot water processed or if pressure canning is more appropriate. Anyway, it's super easy: add to the heated contents of a jar or can of diced tomatoes (since I'm out of home canned, I used Muir Glen's fire roasted) two or three cloves of garlic in a very small dice, half a cup or so of cured black olives (kalamata or liguria are good) and a teaspoon or so of balsalmic vinegar. Salt and pepper to taste, although you're unlikely to need much in the way of salt.


That's it. Just lovely on the tuna and my husband thought it would be good on a burger, too, although he's not to picky in that regard so who knows. A girlfriend suggested that if the olives and tomatoes were diced fine enough and enough liquid was cooked out it would make a lovely cracker or bread spread to go with an aperitif. Since there's nothing I like better than the prospect of cooking research that includes alcohol I'm going to try it on the next nice day. Here's hoping that Weather.com is wrong and that my chance to see if she's right will come sooner rather than later.

Don't you just love phlox? I'm definitely going to have to get a few more of these - I'm thinking they'd make a nice border to the brick walk leading up to the house.


Today's first order of business is the warm weather foods ideas - great ideas, people, but we need recipes! I've had several e-mails with some truly yummy sounding things on the order of salads, soups, grilled items, but no recipes. I'm still willing to compile a little booklet so I'll give it a few more days to see what happens.


Second, I bought some strawberries yesterday. I'm determined to get this jam thing right - last year's was pretty loose and so I tend to use it warm as a sauce. Homemade jam made without commercial pectin tends to be much softer than the commercial variety, but I'm looking for a bit more firmness this year so I might cheat just a bit and add some of Pomona's Universal Pectin, which is much milder than the more mass market brands but still gives you that slightly pulled together texture that you really want in a jam. Hopefully the jam thing will happen tomorrow - it's not supposed to be too hot, so it should be a good day for canning.


This morning after soccer we headed to the Downtown Mall, which isn't a mall at all but rather a pedestrian shopping/leisure/lifestyle area, to pick up my Father's Day present to my dad. We're giving him John Grisham's latest, signed by the author himself. Apparently, Mr. Grisham has a relationship with this local independent place and is rewarded with huge posters of his grinning mug in the store's windows. Strange, but nice - especially when someone you love enjoys his books. As long as Grisham remains as prolific as he's been lately, I'll never run out of gift ideas for dad.


As it turns out, today was the Dogwood Parade and the parade route skirted the edges of the Mall. The Boy Wonder was thrilled to see bagpipes for the first time, old fashioned fire trucks and horse-drawn carriages. As we left he said, "Mommy, I don't think I like parades. But I like this one. It's the bestest. Can we see it again?" Next year, kiddo.


I've got some beautiful tuna steaks for dinner tonight. I'm going to get the grill doing for the fish and make a sauce-y thing out of roasted tomatoes, balsalmic vinegar and olives, with the whole mess served over Moroccan couscous. I have a clear idea of the taste I'm heading for - rich, somewhat salty, sharp and sunny - and will let you know how it turns out. I'll need some bread and a nice crisp, light white wine and dinner will be complete (with homemade lemonade for the Boy Wonder - so I can fool myself into thinking he's getting vitamin C and that it's "healthy").

Spring has sprung in Charlottesville. These beautiful things live on my front steps, where they make me quite happy.


We've managed to accomplish quite a lot in the last week, despite the rapid approach of the end of the semester (we can gauge how close we are to the end by my husband's mood - the worse it is, the closer we are and this morning he was just miserable - happiness should arrive again in early May). The garden bed that used to have hostas in it is now cleared and ready for its next incarnation and the herb garden and just needs its dirt. That's one of the funny things about home ownership and gardening - buying dirt. When you were young, did you ever imagine that you'd actually buy dirt? Cool clothes, lots of make up, books and airplane tickets, sure, but dirt? And not just dirt but top soil, compost, peat, mulch, sand and on and on. I do compost, but that only supplies a small fraction of the inputs we need to be able to grow anything at all in our very dense red clay.


Today is not supposed to be as hot as the last three so I'm planning a day of errands with the Little Diva. I need new oven mitts - I've come perilously close to burning myself too many times - and some of those summer-time bobo sneakers. The Boy Wonder also needs sneaks, but I'm becoming disheartened at our inability to find some that don't scream "made in China by happy Folun Gong volunteers". I guess it never hurts to look. Anyway, I'm also hitting the library, the kids' consignment shop and maybe the new needlepoint shop to see what they have. Tonight will be dedicated to work-for-pay activities. One of my clients needed some writing and she thought of me - yay! It's very nice to have that kind of relationship where we trust each other and she knows I'll get the job done quickly and well.


I am actively soliciting ideas for warm weather cooking. We had chicken ceasar salad for dinner the other night (made with that pre-cooked and sliced chicken breast stuff) with bread and it was really nice. The night before that I made a big tray of nachos, which we drank with lemonade. Very simple and easy to clean up. Last night, however, I broiled up some chicken breasts that had been marinating in a kind of chipotle sauce. It took, what, 10 minutes to broil them but the kitchen was H-O-T. (Which reminds me, I need to check out our propane situation for the grill.)


Send your ideas for easy cool kitchen meals to me at HotWaterBath and I'll compile them to share with our little readership. Be sure to include your name and your approximate location so I can give you due credit. Many apologies to our friends in the southern hemisphere who are heading into winter - I haven't forgotten about you and I hope you'll send one of your favorites, even if it's not something you're making at the moment.

Central Virginia is hot today, with an expected high of 88. We usually hit our highest temps in the mid-afternoon so this morning was dedicated to outdoor work so we could get as much done as possible before things got too warm. We became a bit uncomfortable around 1, so we had lunch (fruit salad and peanut butter crackers) and are now putting the Boy Wonder in for rest time (not nap time, as he repeatedly points out because he's "too big for naps").


I'm pretty pleased with how much we've accomplished so far this weekend. The Boy Wonder and I planted radishes, mesclun and bunching onions in the one small raised bed after spreading peat and compost over the layers of newspaper and kitchen waste and then moved on to putting some flower containers together for the front steps. I pulled out two rather anemic roses, some creepy groundcover thing (the main job of which appeared to be sitting around looking ugly) and a huge stand of distressed looking irises (which didn't bloom last year and showed no sign of doing so this year). At our house it's perform or get out.


Since the green area we euphemistically refer to as a "lawn" is really just a mix of rough weeds, we decided to be proactive and create a little 5 X 8 space near the patio to be a soft play area for the babe. First we mowed the weeds down as close as possible and then overseeded with some grass that we've been assured can handle our region's extreme wet/dry cycles. Because grass can continue to grow even when it is cut short, we'll do that through the summer hopefully killing the weeds while allowing the grass to take a good hold. Since we operate on a great deal of theory around here, all I can say is, "We'll see".


The big project for later (when the sun begins to fall and the air becomes more comfortable again) is to complete the Great Hosta Removal of '04. I really don't like hostas and I have a bed that is just covered with them. Out. Out. Out. Getting them out takes some doing, though, because they've filled this entire 2 X 8 bed and they're all connected under the soil. So I'm chopping, pulling and twisting their moist little alien bodies a bit at a time - I took almost an hour to clear a 2 X 2 area and I'm guessing I'm looking at another day of hard time before I'm rid of them at last. Once they're gone I'm going to just go with bedding plants through the summer and put in some bleeding hearts and lilly of the valley for next spring.


The final project is to lay the landscaping fabric down where I want the herb garden. This is another long and narrow space, maybe 3 X 10. I've promised myself that I won't spend a dime on plants until I've sketched it out and decided what to put where and how much of any given thing I need (i.e., want). In other words, to do the job right. I know I want a couple kinds of basil, some cilantro, a few scented geraniums, two or three mints, thyme, rosemary and lavender. Then there are things like verbena (which I love), catmint and a host of others.


If you have or wish to have an herb garden, what would you plant? What would you leave out? Why?

There's something about the rituals of everyday life that begin to heal over wounds and grief. We know this, of course, but it's hard to trust that it's true when one needs it the most. Then it turns out to be right - you realize that you had completely forgotten to be in pain while you, say, fold the laundry or get out the summer clothes. It doesn't completely go away but you get a break and the breaks get longer every day and, pretty soon, it become just a dull ache. Because of this truth I've decided that it's not a betrayal of my friend to get on with life and the things that need to be done, but rather it would be a betrayal of myself not to.


With this realization I began processing carrots for pickling. I still have several pints but, for some reason I can't remember, I bought ten pounds more and something must be done with them. So pickles it is - I've canned things like carrot cake or other sweet breads in the past but doing so is no longer recommended for long term storage and I really hate sweet relishes so spicy dilled carrots are just the thing. We covered pickles here in depth already so I won't go on too much about it but this time things will be just a little different - I'm documenting the process with photos and text for an online craft and DIY site. Should be interesting, no?


Other than the pickles I'm still formulating my canning plans for the summer. Cherries and berries will be first and I can't wait. Last year's strawberry jam didn't set up so I've got lots of "coulis" (some of which was used in Easter Sunday's trifle) so I'm trying a new recipe and a different type of pectin. I'm not sure why various pectins work differently - maybe it's kind of like yeast in that way - but I intend to find out.

We're back from J.'s funeral. It was awful.


She did give us all two final gifts, though. The first was the opportunity to visit with long missed college friends who came from far and wide to support her husband and say goodbye. Sad that it took this horrible event to prod us to seek each other out, but there you are. There were several receptions and wakes and there was much joy in sharing happy memories with each other. Of course, we've all exchanged phone numbers and e-mail addresses and made promises for a proper reunion next year. I really think it will happen, too.


The other gift was that we have all come to realize that we are not immortal and plans and preparations must be made. Many of us have children, aging parents or partners to whom we are not married and these people must be protected. One of the fraternity brothers (J.'s and my husbands are brothers - this is how we met in the first place) is an estate attorney and brought everyone information on steps we need to take now. J. died intestate - without a will - and this means extra hassle and expense for her family. A bunch of us wanted to head over to his office to talk right after the service, but he declined saying he had no intention of profiting from the occasion and he would make recommendations if we needed them. Very cool.


So now my husband and I have an appointment to create a will as a first step with the goal of putting together a trust within a year or so to provide further protection for the kids and to make sure that our wishes are carried out with regards to their care should we die together. We are also buying more life insurance, needed since we now have two children.


If you have not already and you have loved ones that require your help and protection even in the event of your death, please see to this. As we're finding, it will definitely cost (and we're gulping just a bit at the expected bill), but think how much more is at stake. If you can't afford the fees, at least write your wishes down and have the whole thing dated, signed and notarized. At least that way you'll have some record of what you want done in the event of your death. For more information, go here. Promise me you'll take care of this, o.k.?

One of the great gifts of having children is that it is impossible to wallow, whether in sorrow or anything else. One simply must get on with getting on. There are Easter baskets to fill, eggs to hide, games to play, meals to prepare and clothes to wash. I remember reading somewhere that immersion in activities is a good way to deal with grief, that doing so helps to remind of the life remaining to be lived and not missed in a haze of sadness. If this is true, then having kids is an excellent way to follow such advice.


So we're feeling a bit better today. I do reserve my right to have a meltdown on Tuesday, however. Despite the expected pleasure of seeing friends and long lost classmates, there will be nothing to distract us from the reality that we wouldn't be together at all if not for a monumental loss. There's a huge hole in our lives and, even if I'm cried out for the moment, I don't dare think that I'll remain dry eyed or serene as I say goodbye to someone I loved so much.


Yesterday the Boy Wonder asked me why I was sad. How do you explain this to a three year old? I told him that Miss J. has very bad owies and that the hospital couldn't make her better and that I wouldn't be able to see her or talk to her anymore and that I would miss her since she'll be living in heaven with the angels. And he said, "Mommy, why don't you eat some mango jam. I'm happy when I have mango jam." I smiled and started to cry (again) and he said, "Maybe Miss J. would like some mango jam, too, to share with her angels."


Today as my family celebrates rebirth, resurrection and salvation (both the big-S and little-S kind) and see all around us signs of spring, we remember all of our gifts. The gifts of pleasing those we love, of sharing our bounty and of having known a dear friend at all. It's not about having lost her, it's about having found her in the first place.

J. died on Wednesday. Sorry to be so blunt about it but that's pretty much how I feel - terrible and terribly blunt and raw around the edges. She's gone and I hadn't called her on Monday as I intended. I'll call after Easter. I've got these cookies to make and she's probably busy anyway. And, the pool opened last week so she's probably not home. But she was home and it was the last day I could have talked to her, to have laughed with her, to have learned the latest cool thing her son was doing, to have made plans for our annual beach vacation. My last chance to talk to her was Monday and I didn't call.


I didn't call R. right after the baby was born, either, even though she asked me to let her know as soon as I could. I'm so tired. I'll call tomorrow if we have a good night. We've got company now, it wouldn't be fair to them. I'll wait another week or so until things calm down. So I didn't learn about her attempts to conceive again or how her son and husband, K., were doing in Daddy-n-Me Soccer. I didn't hear all about the plans for the elaborate holiday celebration that R. and K. put together every year, with eggs and bunnies and homemade marshmallows.


I will never forget R. calling me in the middle of the night to tell me she had met "The One". I was cautious on her behalf, as girlfriends often are, because she'd been hurt badly in the past. I needn't have worried. K. turned out to be every bit as charming, kind and intelligent as R. said he was. K. was quick to smile and slow to anger and he totally adored her. For this, if for no other reason, he earned my respect and friendship. K. couldn't keep all of R.'s many friends straight and the first time we met he bestowed upon me the moniker "Miss Marsha from Buffalo." So I remained for 11 years. And now K. is gone.


There was no warning, no indication at all that our time with these dear, loved people was ending. K. was buried last week and Monday we head to Philly to say farewell to J. The pain is crushing and I feel as if I'm suffocating.


Please call them. Whoever "them" is for you, just call. This week I have learned this brutal lesson in the cruelest way I could have ever imagined. Just call.

Well, I lied.


I ended up getting consumed by another project but thinking that I still had lots of time to post the chocolate sauce recipe. I kept yawning, though, and couldn't understand why I was so tired when it was still so early. Then the baby woke up to eat and I finally looked at a clock and saw that it was one in the morning. So I fed her and we went back to bed.


It's my own fault - I should have planned my time better and been more mindful of the schedule, but I'll tell you, this daylight savings time thing is killing me. I want my hour back and I want it back now.


But that rant is for later and this is for now: Chocolate sauce. The recipe is derived from a couple that I have tried and this is a good base recipe - clear, creamy chocolate flavor, rich and deep. It's perfect for filling little tarts, spreading between the layers of a cake or just plain plopping on top of ice cream. It will never let you down. Plus, because there's nothing in it that can go bad or rot it needs no processing, just sterilized jars and lids.


Mix together 8 oz. of cocoa powder (this can be a regular grocery brand like Hershey or something fancier if you're inclined. I use a bulk cocoa from Atlantic Spice), four cups of sugar, an a quarter teaspoon of salt. Pour these thoroughly blended and non-lumpy dry ingredients into the largest stock pot you own - while the sauce is cooking it increasing geometrically in volume and you'll want to be prepared.


Next, add in the liquid ingredients one at a time: 1/4 cup maple syrup (I use B grade) and 1 1/4 cups light corn syrup. Blend into the dry ingredients so that you have a dry, grainy paste.


Over low heat, slowly add between 4 1/2 and 5 cups of water. Once all the water is added, increase the heat and bring to a boil, stirring every now and again. Once a boil is reached, reduce the heat again to the lowest you can use and still keep the sauce at a boil. Boil for 9-10 minutes, stirring frequently (you'll need a pretty long spoon for this).


Pour the sauce into hot, sterilized jars - I used pints the first time, but have now switched to have pints which is a better amount and easier for gifting - and seal with sterilized two-part lids. I sterilize my jars by either running them through the dishwasher or putting them on a rimmed baking sheet in the over. Either way, it's pretty easy and you must do one or the other (or boil them in your canning kettle). The sauce won't go bad on its own, but you can still introduce lots of nasties if you don't sterilize your storage media.


Anyway, set the lidded jars on a dishtowel to cool. After a couple hours you should start hearing the little pings that indicate the the jars are sealing and will be storable. I get about four pints total from this recipe - in half pint jars it's just the right size for Christmas stockings or Easter baskets or a hostess gifty.


Now, this is just the base recipe. I've been toying with adding a liquor to the liquid ingredients, reducing in the amount in kind from the water. So far, this has worked well and I'm testing its impact on storage. Theoretically, there should be no change in the storability, since alcohol doesn't go bad. So far I've tested both raspberry and orange liquors and they were both delicious at the jarring stage. I'll open them up in a couple weeks to see how the flavor lasts.


You can also add a quantity of a good quality, high-cocoa butter chocolate to the recipe to increase the fat content and overall deliciousness. Grate or chop a smallish bar into very small slivers and add them into the dry ingredients. When adding the liquids, stir vigorously and then when heating make sure to stir away every trace of solid chocolate. Warning: this is good but very, very rich. It's really almost too much, but a severely afflicted chocoholic might find it just right.

I remember reading - before I had children - of an interview with a well known author who was asked why her writing contained longer sentences and more complex grammar as her career progressed. The author pointed out that her career progressed at the same time as her children grew and as the kids became older she was interrupted less and less. Hence, the ability to construct longer and more complex sentences.


I don't remember who the author was, when the interview took place or where I read about it (although, for some reason, I'm thinking that Toni Morrison is in here somewhere - but I don't know if she was the author, the interviewer or was recounting the tale), but I know exactly what she meant. As I look over my last few posts I'm deeply dissatisfied with the flow, syntax, grammar, spelling, flow and transition from thought to thought. I suppose it doesn't help that I am frequently trying to type with one hand. I feel as if I have so much to say, but current circumstances are interfering with my ability to communicate clearly. So I rush from point to point, just trying to get it all out. The results are predictable - poor writing and confusing narrative. I've never appreciated the term "mommy brain" and to be living this kind of mental discord is deeply distressing to me. I hope you'll hang with me as I navigate the next few months.


I'm still planning on posting the chocolate sauce recipe today, but it will likely happen this evening after bedtime for the Boy Wonder. I'm finding that I'm more balanced emotionally if I spend the morning on household tasks, the afternoon on professional tasks and then the evening on creative pursuits. Saving the more personally rewarding activities for the mid to late evening sends me off to bed relaxed and more ready to handle the vicissitudes of infant sleep.

I ended up making a few batches of chocolate sauce with minor deviations so that I could assess what different additions or deletions to the base recipe would do for me. In the end, I opted for relatively few bells and whistles and the final recipe - which I think is a keeper - will be posted here tomorrow. I promise.


We have invited several of my husband's fellow students and colleagues for Easter dinner and I am gratified that most of them have accepted the invitation. Having these guests will require some slight alterations in our traditional menu because several of them do not eat pork (so no ham) and others are vegetarian (so no meat at all). I am unsure if the vegetarians eat eggs or dairy so I have developed two menus. My husband is in charge of inquiring after the ovo-lacto angle so the final menu can be established. Each menu consists of a pasta entree - one ravioli with pesto creme and the other penne with roasted root vegetables and garlic/rosemary olive oil. The ravs would be accompanied by ginger glazed carrots and the penne with sauteed greens. Each is rounded out with field greens, relishes and foccacia. If eggs are acceptable then the traditional deviled eggs will also be on the table. Dessert will either be a mixed berry crisp or a flourless chocolate cake.


Since I despise mustard and sweet relish in any form I make my deviled eggs without and use ranch dressing instead, with lots of fresh ground black pepper and usually some kind of herb. I think theu're much tastier, but other people seem to have mixed reactions - the eggs aren't what they expect, certainly, but no one has been able to tell ne if that's good or bad.

Look out world...my hot water bath is boiling and I'm ready for action.


First, a morning to straighten out the laundry situation and have the Little Diva checked out by the World's Greatest Pediatrician and then it's Chocolate Sauce City, with a small detour to the village of Unset Marmalade.


It's good to be back.