The last two weeks have been a blur of activity, although I'd be hard-pressed to tell you exactly what I did. There was weeding and the ever-present weed prevention efforts (file under: hope springs eternal), some watering, some dehydrating (more cherries), a spot of reupholstering, and on and on, with little actually finished. No, wait, we did finish reading Prince Caspian much to the Boy Wonder's disappointment (which came hand-in-hand with an excited rally over the next selection, Neil Armstrong: Young Flyer). Prince Caspian is a lovely tale of renewal, hope and restoration and a wonderful thing to read if you are, as I am, somewhat depressed about current events. And the Neil Armstrong book, well, it has its charms, too. The entire Childhood of Famous Americans series is admittedly a bit twee, but they do present compelling portraits of some really remarkable people in the process of becoming who we know them to have been. You know, child being the father of the man and all that, and as bedtime stories they really are nice. There is probably a reason there aren't many profiles of bond traders or product managers in the series - nor compliance specialists, for that matter (which is how I spend a good chunk of my day)- but it's not something in which I'll delve into too deeply here.

Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, getting things done. On that page I've been meaning to shout out to my former roommate and occasional commenter Meg to congratulate her on the addition of two (I think) children to her family. I dearly wish everyone in the family a lifetime of love and a smooth settling in. If she were in the room with me I'd ask if she ever looks back at the girls we were and wonder how we got from there to here. Myself, I'm shocked on a regular basis.

So here we are, waiting for enough beans to come in to make dilly beans, enough blueberries for jam or pie filling (actually, I prefer turnovers but you know what I'm saying) and perhaps even enough zucchini to become sick of it - although it's hard to believe that point could possibly come, this early in the season. Meanwhile, I've tasked Brainiac to the project of making some kind of rain barrel water-off-the-roof collection system, a job which I sold by reminding him that "specialization is for insects" and he probably shouldn't spend all his free time on keeping our cars running, and I'm trying to work out - again - how to knit. I think my problem was trying to knit left-handed, when clearly (it seems to be now) a girl who throws right and bats right probably ought to knit right, too, even if she writes and eats left. Right?

I have finally wrested the computer from Brainiac on the strength of my conviction that one cannot control the remote, the laptop and the satellite radio simultaneously. He loves nothing more than to surf the latest gearhead and/or medical instrumentation news while watching one of those wretched military history shows that feature re-enactments AND computer-generated "footage" of aerial dogfights. No more, I say, one must choose one's media input. We'll see how far I get with this.

Now that I have control of the laptop (which I am using while watching with him a documentary of the Six Day War which, although wrenching in many ways, at least does not offer much in the way in the way of computerized fighter jets - small mercies and all that) I must figure out something about which to write. I am on the record as having hated February and being somewhat non-plussed about March; April and May were merely trying. I am still waiting for June to bring results for my efforts to solve long-standing challenges and so feel a bit at loose ends lately.

So. Here we are. I'd love to share with you my latest project but I cannot because my younger sis reads here and it's all supposed to remain a surprise for now. Or I could show you the dining room chairs I trash picked and am prepping for recovering but that would mean putting the laptop down and leaving the room to get the camera and I cannot risk that the machine would be waiting here for me on my return (Brainiac's corollary to my "one media input" at a time rule is "if you put it down, it's mine" so you can understand my motivation to stay here until he plies me with so much wine that I have no choice but to leave the room). I could tell the story of how I taught the young Ukrainian woman living with us how to make tomatilla salsa - to her sincere and acute alarm, but now that I've come up with all these things I should do but will not I am now exceedingly tired and quite hopped up on Syrah and must attend to other needs. You understand, right?

This weekend we are taking the kids fishing (!) and I am confident that any number of amusing tales will result, and I am also planning to lay in a batch of both chocolate sauce and marinated mushrooms. With luck and the ability to avoid military documentaries, not to mention June taking the turn for which I am hoping, I should have lots to share. Stay with me, will you?

I read somewhere recently an old farmer's advice to plant triple of whatever it is one wants to produce and thinks one ought to plant: one third for the weather, one third for the critters and one third for the grower. This seems like sound advice to me, although I only followed it with tomatoes and bush beans this year. Oh, and the hot peppers. Hm, and basil. I actually planted less squash (three zucchinis only) and I'm having a bit of an anxiety attack about it, despite knowing that I've never had a squash shortage in any year I'd planted at least one.

There remains a bit of planting to do. I want to get another eight or ten bean seeds in the ground, and perhaps a couple butternut squash (I've never grown them, but I'd like to experiment with storage veggies this year). The Boy Wonder would like to try carrots, which I've never done, and although I fear it's a bit late I'm willing to give it a shot. Once that's done, we're solidly into "we'll see" territory, with watching and waiting as the primary activities.

In the meantime, I've been doing a bit of canning (tomatilla salsa, mango jam and pickled okra) and experimenting with the dehydrator that a pal gave me after she unearthed it in her basement and had no recollection of how it got there. I dried the last of our apples (until this fall) - they were getting a bit soft - with great success and have also made some cherry "raisins", taking advantage of the season. I can't say as I'll ever be a jerky and fruit leather kind of girl (as we eat neither of those foods in the first place) but being able to dry our excess of what we *do* eat has been nice.

And so there we are, in this neither here-nor-there time food-wise. I'd like to make up a batch of marinated mushrooms and perhaps even a bit of strawberry jam if I can get enough berries next week at the market. Oh, and chocolate sauce. It's definitely a good time for chocolate sauce so it will be matured and ready for gift-giving come the winter holidays. (Yes, it's true, I'm one of those people who thinks about Christmas in June. But I also think about my garden in January, so this doesn't strike me as inconsistent with my general behavior.)